“CHIARA!!” Tennyson screamed.
The maw snapped closed.
I flew forward, burying myself in the couch. I pulled out and turned back to the room.
Tennyson and Dante knelt on the floor, Tennyson cradling Chiara’s limp body. Everyone was breathing hard, the sound harsh in the small room.
“Can you hear me, Chiara?” Dante asked. “Come back to us.”
I instantly crossed to her. Seeing Chiara unconscious was almost unbearable.
Fortunately, she moaned and turned her head.
“What about you, Jack?” Tennyson raised his head.
“Yeah, you okay? You seem worse for wear.” Branwell looked me up and down.
I surveyed my body. The vortex had indeed further rumpled me. My boots were gone and one sock was partially off, hanging loose. My shirt had come untucked and my waistcoat had lost two buttons. Unfortunately, the entire episode hadn’t dried me, so I was still decidedly wet.
“Worse for wear?” Tennyson snorted. “Or participating in the slowest strip tease ever?”
He had a point.
Regardless, my state of gradually increasing dishabille was ridiculous.
Chiara jerked fully awake, her eyes frantically searching for mine.
Silence.
“This has to stop.” Dante shook his head, so weary. “The Chucky-slimedoescome when we deliberately use our gifts. What are we going to do?”
“I summoned the Chucky-slime and almost killed you.” Chiara was upset. Her teeth chattered and her hands trembled.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
Only an hour had passed since my near brush with being sucked into oblivion. We had spent the hour discussing what to do.
The problem was enormous. I could do nothing to stop the Chucky-slime from pulling me into a scar. We didn’t know what damage would happenwereI to be sucked in. The D’Angelos couldn’t control when or how a scar opened.
Ergo. . . for my safety, I shouldn’t be around any D’Angelos until we understood how to stop the Chucky-slime.
So we had come up with a plan. Dante would take Chiara’s car and drive me to my villa and . . . well, I wasn’t sure what came after that to be honest. Chiara would go with Tennyson to another hidden location. The Tempeste family were still a threat.
But for now, I was having a hard time seeing past the loss of the woman before me.
The triplets had stepped out to give us some space to say goodbye.
“You’re adorable when you shut your eyes like that.” I swept a ghost hand through her hair, wanting so damn much to be able to hold her.
But between my ocean heroics the night before and my fight to stay out of the Chucky Vortex of Death, I was too tapped out. I couldn’t pull a single strand of hair into corporeality right now.
“Look at me, Chiara,” I coaxed.
She shook her head, lips pressed together. “No. If I don’t open my eyes, then I can’t see birds or any other omens that might trigger the Chucky-slime. I won’t risk hurting you.”
“You’re being a little melodramatic.”
She bit her lip. Eyes still closed. “I d-don’t care.” A tear slipped out, trickling down her cheek. “Don’t you dare say a single word.”
