Huge thanks to @firmix for making this wonderful cover!
Now enjoy!
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"Let's all just calm down." Lumiere rose slowly from the bed with his hands raised in neutral surrender on behalf of both men whom were currently glaring at the ground but for very different reasons, "We all are still wired from the past few days. After everything that has happened, we are bound to be on edge."
Brandon turned away while reaching a jittery hand for his pocket and produced the pack of cigarettes he has been nursing since we left the hotel. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and warmed the end, despite being indoors. After a few long drags, he nodded in agreement to Lumiere's attempt at easing tensions.
"What happened is not Dustin's fault. If someone needs to be blamed, I'll accept it." Lumiere announced lightly, "I knew how bad Dustin got last time, but I thought he would be fine as long as he didn't remember his nightmares. Clearly I was wrong."
"We all were." Brandon said quietly. He shook his head, scratching at his jaw, and slowly – bit by bit – his apprehension dwindled with each puff he exhaled. He cleared his throat and handed the cigarette to his cousin, a form of apology I was unaccustomed to, "Sorry for getting angry at you."
Lumiere clapped a hand onto Brandon's shoulder, "No worries, I forgive you."
Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I was talking to Dustin."
Lumiere awkwardly pulled his hand back, "Right ... of course you were."
Just as Dustin was reaching for the cigarette, a gentle knock sounded from the door shortly before the heavy wood swung open to reveal a duo blocking the doorway; a man and a woman dressed entirely in white, holding matching white briefcases, and smiling as strangely as Erie whenever she addressed her guests.
The women cocked her head upon seeing Brandon and Dustin sharing a cigarette, "Smoking is bad for your health. In fact," Her smile, though it didn't so much as twitch, became something rather disturbing, "It will kill you."
Brandon straightened and put out the cigarette on the leg of his jeans, "Um ... can we help you?"
"Actually, it is us who can help you." The women informed kindly. She couldn't have been much older than Brandon but her hair was stark white from root to tip, as though she were beyond her years, and those long strands were pulled back into a tight ponytail that was seemingly the reason for her smile being so taut, "Erie sent for us. We were instructed to treat your wounds."
This must be the medical team Erie had spoken of.
The man standing beside the women was nearly identical in appearance with hair just as white and a grin just as bizarre, "We are already treating the young woman in your group, I believe her name is Corinth. She ran into us on the stairs and directed us here."
They entered the room on the same step and stopped in unison, then waited.
Brandon looked at Dustin, who looked at Lumiere, who looked at me. Being last in line, apparently it was my call for judgment. But clarity on this situation evaded me just as it did for all of them and I could only shrug, at a loss for any form of coherent explanation.
The women set down her briefcase and folded her hands behind her back, "The rest of our team is waiting downstairs for the remanding three. My partner and I are here to treat Dustin King." She bowed as she said his name, "An honor, sir."
"Are you not surprised," Dustin was skeptical, "To be talking to a deadman?"
Her smile was hidden from where she was arched forward and without sight of that feigned friendly demeanor, her tone sounded much more malevolent, "Word travels fast and whispers have begun, about the righteous death of a King ... and his rumored return."
Tension blasted through the room and Lumiere met my fearful gaze, "People know?"
"No way, there's just no way." Lumiere insisted, "We have been so careful, there can't be rumors already-"
"It must have been someone inside the Council." Brandon began, eyeing the unfamiliar odd pair, "It had to be, we obviously didn't tell anyone. The Councilmen are the only other people – at least the only living people – that know about Dustin."
That can't be true, "They didn't want anyone to know Dustin had survived when they first took him, so what changed? What would the Council gain from spreading rumors now?"
"Stop trying to understand their reasoning." Brandon chided in aggravation, "You're always trying to figure them out, but it doesn't matter why they are doing these things. All that matters is how we are going to stop them from killing all of us next time."
The man bowed beside his partner, "This discussion can be postponed. Please be along, our colleagues are waiting for you downstairs and we have other appointments to keep."
Lumiere idled where he stood at Dustin's side and crossed his arms loosely over his chest, "You seem mighty eager."
"We have a job to do and a schedule to keep." The man informed, not in anger but not without friction, "Surely you can understand that our eagerness is palliative."
"Of course I can, I understand completely." Lumiere replied, as chipper as a troll beneath a travelers bridge, "But I think I will stay here while you treat Dustin, if you don't mind."
The woman straightened, "As you wish."
Brandon leaned towards Lumiere, "Will you be alright?"
Lumiere nodded, "Certainly. After all," His smile became the most unsettling, "They are just here to provide care."
They neither agreed nor refuted.
After collecting their briefcases, they approached Dustin and unloaded their supplies onto the surface of the bed: a series of syringes and hospital grade vials, bandages and medical tape, and several scalpels.
"We will begin procedures," The woman stared straight ahead, "As soon as the room clears."
Brandon rolled his eyes, "Don't have a cow, lady. We get it, we're leaving."
He helped me stand from the bed and led me towards the door. I looked back only once but Dustin was staring down at his hands, blatantly refusing to meet my stare. Then Brandon walked us out into the hallway and the door shut automatically behind us even though no one had initiated its seal.
"Am I the only one weirded out by those two?" I asked as we started down the hallway.
Brandon humphed, "Not by a long shot. But Lumiere is there and he won't let them hurt Dustin. Besides, if Erie trusts these people then I guess we do too."
I was surprised to hear how easily he accepted their loyalty, "Erie trusts them so we trust them? Just like that?"
"Yep." Brandon answered thoughtlessly, "We don't really have any other choice."
That is a very good point.
My leg was too sore to handle the stairs and without the strength of my arms to carry my weight, I was at a complete disadvantage. Brandon recognized this almost immediately and picked me up to carry me down the stairs.
Neither of us said a word to the other about the matter.
Once downstairs, Brandon continued to carry me past the rooms I have become familiar with, to an area at the back of the house where hushed conversation could be heard. Within a small parlor decorated modestly in comparison to the rest of the house, we found Corinth surrounded by more replicas of the duo upstairs; each dressed in white with the same distinctive hair and identical grins stapled over their mouths. When we arrived, Corinth audibly sighed in relief that she was no longer alone with these strange characters.
"Where is the other?" One of them asked, speaking of Lumiere.
"He stayed upstairs with Dustin." Brandon informed.
Their smiles faltered but didn't fall. Two of them picked up their briefcases and stalked past us to ascend the stairs. That left six of them, two for each of us.
Brandon set me down in a large lounge chair near a window overlooking the back of house where a vast open field was outlined by the same massive trees that protected the Gate's anterior. As soon as I was out of Brandon's hold, he was replaced by two of the white wearing oddballs; a man and a woman almost as young as me but with that same colorless hair.
"How are you today, miss?" The woman asked while she knelt in front of me and unpacked her briefcase. I gave her an uninteresting answer and she nodded along, "We are happy to hear that you are doing well." The man knelt down as well with a pair of stainless silver scissors in hand, sliding them under the gauze wrapped around my leg. While he cut, the woman continued on in a droning voice, "Sadie, correct? Well for you, we have a fairly uneventful treatment. A few stitches are needed in your leg and a proper wrapping, some antibiotic ointment and – oh? What is this I see?" She poked a merciless finger against the tender bruises on my arms, "Are these new?"
"Yes." I hissed at her.
She only smiled.
I can see why Erie gets along with them so well.
The man finished cutting through the bloodstained bandage and peeled it away from my leg, revealing a fairly gruesome sight below. He reached down to grab a tube from his open briefcase, squeezing a generous amount directly into and around the gaping hole at my thigh's center.
"This is topical lidocaine." He explained. His smile was even less inviting than the girl beside him, "It will numb your leg so we can clean it and administer stitches, with minimal discomfort."
As he began to rub it in with a touch no more gentle than sandpaper, I squirmed in my seat and ground out an ungrateful, "Thanks."
But true to his word, a few minutes later my leg was indeed numb. The girl set to work on cleaning the cut by using saline soaked gauze to scrub away the dried and crusty blood. Then the man neared with a needle and clear string, and began sewing the hole together as though he were fixing a patch on a ripped pair of jeans. I watched the whole thing in shock, surprised but pleased that I could not feel the needle piercing my skin time and time again as he knitted near perfect stitches.
As he was finishing, the woman handed me two ice packs, "Unfortunately, there isn't much to be done about bruises except prevent swelling."
"This is fine." I assured her.
The boy tied off the stitches and clipped the string short, "The stitches will dissolve in approximately two weeks. Keep it clean as best you can. We recommend abstaining from rigorous activity."
Right.
I'll be sure to tell that to the Count when he comes to kill me.
The boy clicked his briefcase shut and stood beside his partner who remained kneeling in front of me. She lifted a roll of gauze and began wrapping my leg, tight enough to compress but not enough to constrict, "As for your other condition."
I waited for her to continue but she didn't, so I let her finish wrapping my leg before I asked, "My other condition?"
Her smile was lower now, "We have nothing to treat the Council's curse but we can give you some preventative medication that may help slow its effects. Even then, guarantees of relief are impossible to make and slim at best."
Oh ... that other condition.
"No need." I told her quietly, "It will sort itself out soon enough, one way or another."
"Indeed." The girl agreed, "One way or another."
She fastened the bandage with two metal clips and as strange as this entire encounter has been, it felt really good to receive proper medical aid. Brandon's black-market techniques were appreciated but already my leg felt immensely better whether it be due to the lidocaine or the comfortable treatment of the bandage.
As my caretakers stood, I was able to see past them to where Brandon and Corinth were being treated. Corinth was laying on her stomach while two boys tended to the large 'X' carved into her side. Beyond her, Brandon was seated between two girls; one was wrapping his hand to properly align his broken bones while the other one hacked at his long hair with a pair of scissors.
Once his hand was done being wrapped, Brandon jerked it away from the smiling girl who then set to work on cleaning the deep cuts along Brandon's face.
"You don't need to do that, I'm fine." He told her, gruffly.
"Of course you are." She replied in a voice precariously mocking.
Two more people entered, dressed like the rest with no other peculiar features about them to set them apart from the impersonations that had been scattered throughout the house, except that these two were quite older in age. They stopped in the middle of the room and announced, "Erie has been treated. She lost a lot of blood and has been confined to strict bedrest-"
Even as this was said, Erie waltzed into the room, "How are my favorite guests doing?"
She was a completely different person than the one we found only a few hours ago, buried under debris and bleeding out. Now, her hair had been piled atop her head in a perfect mess that beautifully cascaded around her bruised cheek and swollen eye. The stain of scarlet had been cleaned, her clothes had been swapped for a set that had not been torn to ribbons, and she walked tall with newfound strength in her battered limbs, uninterrupted by pain or weakness.
If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed she had been shot.
The couple that had been caring for her turned vexed grins in her direction, "You are supposed to be in bed, madam."
"Your generosity is greatly appreciated but largely unnecessary." Erie assured with a combating smile that rivaled those of her medical team.
The girl who had treated me spoke up, "Everyone have been cared for. These three and the blonde upstairs were in poor condition but are expected to recover nicely. As for Mr. King, his prognosis is significantly less favorable."
With that said as a form of farewell, the group of opacity made way for the hall where they were joined by the four others who had been upstairs. Once grouped together, they bowed to Erie who returned the gesture, then they left without another word.
I sat straighter in my chair, "What does that mean, less favorable?"
"No need to worry your pretty little mind, the comments of healers are based on opinion." Erie replied curtly and clapped her hands, "It is time to pack our belongings and prepare for travel. We will be on the road shortly, please plan accordingly."
Then she left just as quickly as she had arrived.
I raised an eyebrow at her brisk departure, "How many painkillers do you think she is doped up on?"
"Probably enough to kill a small rhino." Corinth stretched like a cat where she was still lounging on the couch, "Those people were weird but I have to admit, I feel so much better now."
"Me too." I admitted.
She nodded at my arms, "Did they give you anything to help with the bruises?"
"Just some ice."
"Not much you can do for bruises." Brandon added. He was across the room, planted in front of a cabinet with glass windows where he admired his reflection and his significantly shorter hair. With it groomed, his stolen youth had been returned, "Take it from someone who knows an awful lot about bruises."
"It wasn't Dustin's fault." I told them both in case my position and thoughts on the matter were misjudged. For whatever reason, voices carry farther in this house than anywhere else on the planet and I did not want Dustin to overhear a rogue echo so I had to speak quietly, "He was asleep, he didn't know what he was doing."
Corin nodded, "I know."
Brandon shrugged, "Sure, I know that too. But that doesn't make it okay."
Corinth tucked her arms under her cheek, "Don't listen to him. He is just worried because the last time this happened, it went on for weeks and he lost his beauty sleep."
I went back through Brandon's words from before, "Dustin had nightmares when his family died, right?"
Brandon was now inspecting the wrapping around his hand, noticeably impressed, "Yeah, he got pretty bad back then. He couldn't fall asleep unless someone was in the room with him so we all took turns but eventually, only Lumiere could get him to sleep." Brandon huffed sourly, "Who could have guessed, right? As if either of those boys could do something without the other."
"Dustin began waking up with scratches on his face and arms. Soon enough, Lumiere did too." Corinth explained sympathetically, "It got so bad that Doc had to start sedating Dustin. It was the only way Dustin could sleep without having nightmares, and without hurting anyone."
My heart squeezed with something greater than sympathy for what Dustin has endured, "But it eventually got better, this will too."
"Yeah, I suppose." She mumbled quietly. She kept herself busy by picking at the cushions on the couch, kicking her legs through the air while speaking her thoughts out loud, "I think every now and then he has a relapse – something happens that reminds him of what happened that night and all of a sudden, he is spiraling. And now with all of this," Her fingers stalled, "Sometimes I wonder if he's ever going to be alright."
Unfortunately, "I wonder that, too."
Brandon wandered over and leaned against the back of the couch, "He's been through this before and he'll undoubtably go through it again. He knows how to handle it."
Corinth threw her hand up to smack his stomach, "You give him too much credit."
Maybe Brandon gives him too much credit.
But maybe, we don't give him enough.
"Erie says we need to prepare for the road so I'll pack a few things we might need. You two should get a shower while we're here, you both smell like dirt." Brandon scrunched his nose, "And old furniture."
Corinth rolled her eyes, "Gee thanks."
While Brandon and Lumiere began packing a few necessities, mainly food and toiletries, Corinth and I took turns showering. I had to keep my left leg outside of the shower to keep the newly wrapped gauze dry and although it wasn't easy, it was much easier than Corinth who had to prevent her hip from getting wet.
I didn't realize how long it has been since I bathed and the water ran a light shade of brown before swirling down the drain. I guess crawling through dirty tunnels, getting tortured, and sprinting through burning houses isn't an effective way to stay clean. But with hair smelling like vanilla shampoo and a body rinsed free of all grime, I emerge from the bathroom feeling better than I have in weeks. The shower washed away the last of my pain, my leg was fairing much better, and despite the lethal toxins accumulating in my bloodstream, I felt wonderful.
And I wanted to embrace this feeling for as long as possible.
While I still can.
When Corinth and I eventually wandered down to the lobby after donning fresh clothes free of blood stains, compliments of Erie, we found several bags waiting by the front door where Lumiere was handing them off to Brandon who began carrying them down the walkway in the direction of the cars.
"You are looking much better." I commented once I reached Lumiere. Most of his more serious cuts had been covered, as was the 'X' on his back. Corinth took two smaller bags and followed after her brother.
"Oh yeah, those weirdos fixed up papa bear real nice." Lumiere flexed his arms, then winced when he saw mine, "Damn honey, you alright?"
The bruises have been growing progressively darker but the pain was minimal and my arms only ached if I tried moving too fast. I nodded in response to his question, "Fit as a fiddle."
Lumiere shot me a wink, "Atta girl! Now do me a favor and tell that to our guy over there." He pointed towards Dustin who was sitting down past the front door, on the porch steps, where he had been ordered to sit and was refrained from helping to load the car.
"Is he okay?" I asked, "Did the medical team help him?"
"For the most part. They had to cut away a lot of the skin on his leg that was too damaged to save. Thankfully, they were able to stop the bleeding on his stomach by stitching him up. They were talented little buggers, even better than Doc I imagine." His relief sounded sweetly with his next phrase, "Finally, he is in one piece."
If that were true, why did Lumiere look so sad.
"They couldn't numb his leg though. His nerves were basically dead, there was nothing left to numb. They offered to sedate him before they began cutting but he refused. He didn't want to fall asleep again." Lumiere rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, "I stayed with him during the procedure but I don't think he felt any pain. To be honest, I'm not sure he felt much of anything ... and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing."
"I'll talk to him." I volunteered, then asked, "And how are you doing?"
"Fit as a fiddle." He repeated my lie, then flicked the tip of my nose before skipping down the path with several bags held tightly under his arms.
I hobbled out onto the porch and plopped down beside Dustin, rather dramatically with a flail of my arms just to prove they could still move and that no permanent damage had been done. When Dustin didn't comment on my ridiculous behavior, I propped my arms on top of my knees and bumped his shoulder with mine, "Can we talk?"
He nodded.
"Okaaay." I drawled and poked his arm, "So talk then."
His eyes didn't look away from his feet, "How are you feeling?"
"I am fine, Dustin." I told him sincerely, to grant him peace of mind, "I am only going to say that once."
He still didn't meet my eyes, "I'm sorry, Sadie."
"We have been around this carousel plenty of times before Dustin, so we are going to skip the whole 'it was my fault and I must wallow in self-pity fee fi fo fum' bullshit." He didn't quite smile, but something similar pulled at his lips. I moved closer and was only slightly offended when he flinched farther away with his head forced lower. I tried not to stare at the thick gauze wrapped around the entirety of his leg while replying, "You had no idea what you were doing. It wasn't your fault."
"How was it not my fault?" He asked quietly as the last hints of his smile faded. He was more distraught than I could have guessed, and over something so ridiculous no less, "Don't you hate me for hurting you like that? Because you definitely should, and the fact that you don't makes this so much worse."
"Dustin, that is insane. I could never hate you-"
"That's the problem, Sadie." He grumbled, agonizingly disturbed by my lack of concern, "It was bad enough when the conflicts of my past began targeting you and hurting you. First with Heather, then Rosen, and now with Marx." He reached down to itch at his leg but thought better and folded his hands in his lap, laced together tightly to prevent unconscious movement, "All I ever wanted was to protect you ... and now I am the one hurting you."
"You are not hurting me. It was an accident-"
"Accident or not ... you can't trust me anymore, Sadie." He stated that so simply, as if it were the natural order of our universe; a universe he has occupied alone since the loss of Katrina. And with my arrival, he had been tricked into thinking his world was finally endowed by another girl foolish enough to trust him only to have that saving grace ripped away by his very own hands.
"That's not true."
"What will it take for you to hate me?" He inquired so coldly that chills webbed up my legs and dragged goosebumps along my skin, "Who else is going to get hurt before you decide that I'm not worth all of this trouble?"
Sleep deprivation was making him paranoid and guilt was making him crumble. My fingers barely brushed his but he pulled away again, this time onto his feet to put distance between us. I left my hand hanging motionlessly in the air between us so that I could feel the charged space he previously occupied. It tingled and buzzed, like the atmosphere before a lightning storm.
"After everything we just went through to get you back, how could you possibly think a few nightmares would be enough to make me decide you're not worth it?" I questioned.
His hands trailed unsteadily through his hair, "I'm just saying-"
"You are just saying what you think I want to hear." I justified just as cooly as he, "We all knew this wasn't going to be easy from the very beginning, Brandon made it very clear how difficult this was going to be long before we ever left the compound. But haven't you realized by now? If I wanted easy, I would have kept my mouth shut when I saw you kill that man in the alley."
"This isn't about what happened that night-"
"This isn't about what is easy or difficult either, and it certainly isn't about whether you are worth it or not." I told him as bluntly as possible. Because right now, only I could make him see how far down the rabbit hole he has truly tumbled and only I could help him climb back out, "This is about you. Only you. This has nothing to do with what you did to me or anyone else, but it has everything to do with what someone else did to you."
His expression blanked, "No, this isn't about that. This is about-"
"The Count hurt you Dustin. He convinced Rosen to kill you then he kidnapped you and tortured you for weeks. That is what this is about because at the end of the day, that is why you are having these nightmares and that is why you hurt me."
Every word hit him like waves against a cliffside but when I said those last three, his attention shifted and everything else faded away.
"I hurt you, Sadie." He muttered, almost too quietly to hear. His hands fisted at his sides and his tone dipped even lower, "That is not okay. What I did to you is not okay."
I stood up in front of him, standing on the bottom stair to keep our heights equal. Because our legs were respectively immobile, we used each other to stand. It has been that way for a long time, not just between Dustin and I but between all of us. We use each other to stand, we use each other when we are sad, we use each other to live and to give us purpose. That is what gangs do.
That is what families do.
I braced my hands against his chest, "You know that it isn't okay, you understand that hurting me is not okay." I tried to catch his gaze, "And that is what makes this okay. A lesson was learned, by all of us, so stop blaming yourself."
His hands folded over mine where they rested on his chest. Then he brought them towards his face to cover his cheeks with my palms. His eyes fluttered close and he whispered, "I don't want to hurt you again."
"You won't." I promised.
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do."
"How do you know?"
"Because I love you." Finally his eyes met mine and my heart skipped under their magenta surveillance, the very essence of his inner beauty reflected in those eyes like crystals in the sun. If only he saw himself the way I did, "And because you love me."
"I do, I really do." He said quickly, eager to prove his affections. His forehead pressed against mine, his hands landed on my hips then circled around my back to draw me in close, and he breathed me in so deeply. His arms tightened but there was restraint amidst his actions. He was holding back, afraid that he would hurt me again, "I love you so much."
"That is why you won't hurt me." I pecked the corner of his mouth, then moved inward until I could kiss him fully. He let me carry the kiss without providing his depth and maintained his caution by concealing his desire. I leaned into him, "Believe it, Dustin."
He tried to fight his smile a second time though this one persisted stronger and I felt his lips lift against mine when he spoke, "Hey, that's my line. You can't use it against me."
"I just did." I teased him with another brush of my lips, this time slower and deeper and so much sweeter. These were the kinds of kisses he loved most, the kind he found irresistible and tempting and blissfully faultless.
The kind that brought him back to me.
Always.
My touch began to calm him, my taste soothed his storms; only enough to bring him away from the edge he was perilously teetering near. I felt passion in his kiss and I sensed devotion in his soul. His heart was still mine to hold and protect, but something was different. There was cold where there should only be warmth and darkness where once there was only light.
His restraint held him hostage, he refused to give himself over to me. Because he feared what he might do.
My kiss pressed harder, trying to force his comply but it wasn't enough to convince him. He pulled back, drifting away in the current of his fear, "Be careful around me."
"I don't need to be careful around you." I told him, assertively. My hands flattened on either side of his face to hold him still. To hold him tight. To force my beliefs into him through the contact of my skin against his.
He turned his head into my hand, gracing a kiss against my palm. Although the caress of his lips was feather soft, I felt despair in his touch. It burned against my skin like the harshest of poisons, something far more lethal than the Count could ever administer.
"Yes, Dimples." He whispered. So very quietly, "You do."
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Yay, another update! I apologize for my tardiness but hopefully you enjoyed the chapter!
QUESTION (please respond): would anyone be interested in an official playlist for this book (including DOAK) and/or an instagram page with fanart for both books?
I have had quite a few readers message me about both of these things so I figured I would throw it out there. But if it isn't something you guys are interested in, I won't worry about it :)
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Thanks again my darlings!
xoxo