Our Dark Duet (Monsters of Verity #2)(21)

She’d thought of the monster as a shadow, but it was more—and less. It was—wrong. It looked wrong, it felt wrong, like a hole cut in the world, like deep space. Empty and cold. Hollow and hungry.

It drew all the heat out of the air, all the light, all the sound, plunging them both into silence, and she felt suddenly heavy, slow, her limbs weighed down as the darkness, the monster, the nothing, closed the gap between them.

“Kate?” pleaded a voice in her ear, and she tried to speak, tried to pull free, tried to will her limbs to move, to fight, to run, but the monster’s gaze was like gravity, holding her down, and then its icy hands were on her skin.

Riley’s voice in her ear: “Kate?”

Somewhere, distantly, she felt the spike slip from her fingers, the far-off sound of metal hitting asphalt as the creature lifted her chin.

Up close, it had no mouth.

Only a pair of silver eyes set like discs into its empty face.

Like mirrors, thought Kate, as she caught sight of herself.

And then she was falling in.





At first

it thinks

she is

another toy to wind up

and release another match to strike

but she is

already lit so full

of grief and anger of guilt and fear Who deserves to pay?

it asks her heart and her heart answers

everyone, every one and it knows she is like it

a thing

of limitless potential— she will burn like a sun

among stars she will make it solid she will make it real she will— (Kate?)

(Kate!) and then

—somehow—

she

pulls away

it lets her go and it does not she tears free, and she does n—





“KATE?”

Riley’s voice screamed in her ear and she tore herself free—and it felt like tearing, clothes caught on a nail, skin on barbed wire, pieces left behind, something deep inside her ripping.

She was on her knees—when had she fallen?—hands scraping pavement and her head a riot of pain, everything blurred as if she’d taken a blow. But she didn’t remember—she couldn’t remember—

The voices were shouting in her skull, and she wrenched the earpiece from her ear and cast it into the dark as the alley slid in and out of focus, a second image ghosting her vision in a sickening overlay.

She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to five.

And then she blinked, and saw the red-and-blue lights dancing on the alley wall. Remembered the restaurant, the screams, the man—then the monster, that void with its mirror eyes and a voice that wasn’t a voice inside her head.

Who deserves to pay?

She remembered, distantly, a swell of anger, a longing to hurt something, someone. But it was like a dream, quickly fading. The monster was gone, and Kate lurched to her feet, the world rocking violently. She caught herself against the wall. One step at a time, she made her way back toward the flashing lights, stopping at the mouth of the alley as an ambulance sped away.

A crowd had gathered, morbidly curious, but the attack was over. Whatever it was, it had moved from an active scene to a passive one. A row of body bags lined the curb, and police moved in and out, the sirens off, and the scene already growing still, like a corpse.

A cold fear crept through her. She didn’t understand what had happened, what she’d seen, but the longer she stared, the less she could remember, and the harder she thought, the worse the pain in her head. Something dripped from her chin, and she tasted copper in the back of her throat and realized her nose was bleeding.

She pushed off the wall and nearly fell again, but forced herself to keep moving and didn’t stop until she was home.

When she finally stumbled into the apartment, she nearly missed the person on the couch.

Riley was already on his feet, moving as if to catch her.

“Jesus, Kate, what happened?”

At least, that’s what she thought he said. The words themselves were muffled by a ringing in her ears, a white noise like being underwater, pain lancing through her head, a strobe behind her eyes.

“Kate?”

Her vision blurred, focused, blurred again, and she could feel the bile rising in her throat. She beelined for the bathroom and felt more than heard Riley on her heels but didn’t look back.

Why was he here?

Why was he always getting in the way?

Anger rose in her, sudden and irrational. Anger at the look on his face, the worry in his eyes, the fact he was trying so hard to be someone she didn’t want, didn’t need.

He caught her by the arm. “Talk to me.” Kate spun, shoving him forcefully back into a spindly table in the hall.

Riley let out a yelp as both he and the table went crashing to the floor, and for an instant, looking at him on the ground, so open, so pathetic, Kate wanted to hurt him, wanted it with such simple clarity that she knew it wasn’t real.

What was happening to her?

She turned and stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door, and retched until her stomach was empty and her throat was raw, brought her forehead to rest against the cold porcelain as the pounding on the door was drowned out by the pounding in her skull.

Something was wrong; she had to get up, had to open the door, had to let Riley in. But then she closed her eyes, and the darkness felt so good.

Somewhere, far away, her body hit the floor, but she kept falling down, down, down into black.