Exhaustion trickles into my veins from that transportation spell, but I glance up at the stars visible overhead through all the pine trees. I'm guessing it's close to one in the morning here in Washington. This is where Lillian lived many years ago, and she talked about it often.
Silas pockets his bleeding crystal, cleaning the blood off his fingers with his tongue, which happens to beveryfucking distracting.
"We've learned about wraiths. They are faceless, silhouette-like figures that feed on fear and can only be killed with blessed bone weapons. Otherwise, they're known to be harmless compared to other shadow fiends since they are completely intangible. Are you sure that wasn't something else?"
"Nope. It was a fucking wraith. He just has some extra bells and whistles, thanks to the necromancers. And he's very tangible."
Not to mention, far stronger than other wraiths and completely out of control. Amadeus wouldn’t have sent him—he must have broken free of the Divide the moment he realized it was weak enough to go after me.
After all, that wraith has developed an addiction to the taste of my fear.
I start moving in the direction I think we need to go, but Everett gently stops me with a hand on my waist.
"You keep sayinghe. You were terrified back there. Who was that, Oakley? Tell us."
All four of my matches are staring me down. They clearly have no intention of letting this go.
I'd rather swallow broken glass than tell them this, but they deserve to know.
"That was Gideon," I admit.
It's comedic how all their mouths drop open at the same time.
"What?"Baelfire and Silas roar in sync. All of Crypt's markings light up as unadulterated murder flashes across his handsome features, and Everett swears profusely.
"You said that sick motherfucker was ripped apart," Baelfire says furiously, blue fire flickering under his skin as his temper rises. The snowdrift we're standing in is melting quickly around him. I take a small step back since I am notoriously not fireproof.
"He was. By the king of the Undead, who rarely lets any of his subjects have a truly permanent death." I pause, considering how to explain it. "When I became thetelum,they didn't stop experimenting on me. The same went for Gideon. Amadeus wanted to know if a human could be brought back as a wraith with its memories intact. He wanted to imbue it with more power. After a year or so, he succeeded, and the wraith who was once Gideon was incorporated into my training."
Silas's jaw clenches, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "Defineincorporated."
It's impossible to forget the times I was forced to run through the monster-filled forests in Amadeus's kingdom, fear thick as tar pumping painfully hard through my veins as I could sensehimhunting me. There is no way to kill a wraith without blessed bone, a substance that doesn't exist in the Nether due to its lack of priests, prophets, or anything else to do with the gods.
Amadeus called it fear endurance testing. He said for me to be a worthytelum, my pain and fear tolerance levels needed to be impenetrable.
I developed a tolerance for physical pain that surpassed his expectations.
Fear, on the other hand?
There is no such thing as true fear tolerance. Once you learn to function through one phobia, there is another, and another, and another. There is no fucking comparison between physical and psychological agony. I would accept a thousand more tortures before I let Gideon assault my mind again.
I can't let that wraith break my quintet like he did me. I need to make sure he doesn't get anywhere near them again.
Where is your beautiful mind,sangfluir? Silas asks in my head.
I realize I've tuned out, so lost to my dark memories that they seem to have let the subject go, which is an unexpectedwin. Crypt has vanished, and Baelfire is checking his cell phone, which he must have managed to grab from the room before we left. Everett is doing his best not to come near me since the cold is already making me shiver, but he's still watching me with a soft, sad blue gaze like he can see the pain in my past.
Silas moves to wrap me in his arms, but I step back from him.
"Wait. Let me get myself under control?—"
"No." His scarlet irises are unbearably gentle as he steps closer, reaching for me again. "I don't want you under control, Maven. No version of you or your emotions will burden me.Sanguis a' sruthadh unus gh'a, tha sinn unum mar,"he murmurs in fae.
It's an old fae adage meaning,"Our blood flows as one love, so let us be one."
He wraps me in his strong embrace, saying nothing as I shut my eyes and try to re-compartmentalize shit from my past.
Silas just holds me through it, his slight spiced bourbon fragrance subtle but comforting.
