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“I know you’re pissed at me, or whatever. I just…I just feel like something is wrong. So, if you could let me know you’re safe, or that you’re not dying in a ditch somewhere, I’ll let you get back to avoiding me.”

Something is wrong. I’m not safe, Rhenn. I need you!

I groan, desperately trying to let him know what’s happening, but my body grows weaker, and I sink to the earth, clawing my nails into the dirt below me. My vision tunnels, black creeping in at the edges.

Glancing up, I catch sight of Harlow Bridge above me. Its name slips past my lips, just a breath. It’s all I can manage before the darkness finally claims me.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

RHENN

Istare down at her, beyond concerned with how quickly she’s breathing. Like she’s fighting for each inhale. Her chest heaves, sweat coating the line of her hair.

It took two seconds to realize she really was in trouble after she finally managed to get a word out on the link. Luckily, she gave me all I needed to find her.

Blood trails down her left arm. A wound she gave herself fighting against me as I tried to move her. I’ve seen Sumner struggle with her nightmares. Fend off invisible monsters. It’s never been this bad. And what’s worse, I can’t wake her up.

Gripping a wrap in my hand, I crawl onto my bed, straddling her in the center where I laid her. I need to get that cut covered, but she isn’t making it easy. Each movement from me causes another thrash from her. She swings her arms, irritating the angry laceration and causing more crimson to exit her body. I plead with her to calm down, wake up, lie still, anything.

At a loss on how to help her, I pin her down, twisting the wrap around her wrist and tying it off on the bedpost. It’s all I can think of to keep her from hurting herself further.

With her motions restricted, I’m able to properly bandage the lesion, then slump back to the foot of the mattress, sitting there for a solid five minutes of having no idea what the fuck to do.

Eventually, her motions slow. Goosebumps rise on her arms, and a cloud of mist trails past her lips with her next shaky exhale.

“Vix?” I ask, trying once again to wake her as I move to her side, placing the back of my hand over her forehead.

She’s…cold.

Sumner shivers and my palms grow sweaty. There’s a pause in my chest, a terrible sinking feeling in my gut.

I scan over her body, searching frantically for what I pray won’t be there.

All the saliva dries in my mouth when my eyes land on the inky blemish staining the side of her right-hand pointer finger. Not just any mark. His mark. A small narrow streak which fractures into even smaller tendrils, like the jagged roots of a tree.

The muscles in my body fall slack, her soft hand slipping from mine.

No. It isn’t him. He can’t know she’s here. It has to be something else. Someone else.

Before I can make sense of it, her breathing picks up again. I can hear the rapid beating in her chest. I want her to look at me, to tell her it’s okay, that I’m here with her, but the beating drops to a dangerously slow pace. Her head falls back and she stops moving.

A sense of dread washes through me and my throat starts to close.

It can’t be him… It can’t be…

“Vixen?” I shake her shoulder. “Come on, Vix. Wake up.”

Before I realize she’s moved, her free hand is at my arm, squeezing. Sumner stays otherwise unmoved. Unconscious. Near lifeless. She whispers something, inaudible even to my ears, and then it’s dark.

I’m spiraling, being sucked into a vast globe of emptiness. Falling and falling until my eyes flash open. A haunting mix of red and gray skies shine down on me. Fog taints the air, the distinct scent of ash fills my lungs.

I swallow down the rough coal coating my throat, clenching my fists at my sides. I’ve been here before.

The world between worlds. A place where evil thrives and good things come to die.

The Land of Shadows. Home of the Reaper.

It isn’t purgatory, not exactly. More like its front door.