“What happened?”Vale asked as soon as the door was closed.
Cyril shook his head.“I knew her.”
“The dead woman?”
“Well, I never talked to her or anything, but I’d seen her before.”Cyril hesitated.“During my nightmare.”
Vale was confused.“The one you had last night?”
“Yes.I’d never seen her before then.I’d never even heard her name.I just know that yesterday, I was in her head when she had the car accident.I felt her die, Vale.”
This was far from being Vale’s area of expertise, but he wasn’t going to abandon his boyfriend.“And it was the first time you dreamed of someone dying?”
“Well, I dream of people dying all the time, but never like this.I don’t know what happened.”
“Maybe you’re not fully healed still,” Vale suggested.
“The doctor said I’m fine.”
“But the doctor doesn’t know anything about your ability.Is it possible that it’s changing after you hit your head?”
Cyril hesitated, then shrugged.“I guess it is, but it’s never really changed before.”
“You never suffered a head injury before, either.There’s also Oscar to consider.”
“What about him?”
“Well, he’s linked to you, isn’t he?Wouldn’t it make sense for him to change ifyouare changing?”
Cyril turned to look at Oscar, who, as always, was lounging on the bed.He raked a hand through his hair, and Vale desperately wished there was something he could do to help.Unfortunately, if Cyril didn’t know what was going on, there was no way Vale would.Necromancy wasn’t his area of expertise.He had no idea how it worked.Most days, he wasn’t even sure thatCyrilknew how it worked.
“I don’t know,” Cyril murmured.
Vale hated this.He hated feeling powerless and like there was nothing he could do to protect the people he loved.Unfortunately, if this had to do with Cyril’s ability, he truly could do nothing this time.He was going to have to wait and watch his boyfriend deal with this on his own.He could support him, however far that support reached.
Vale wasn’t sure it would be far enough.
* * * *
CYRIL WASN’T AS SURPRISEDby what was happening to him this time around.After his previous experience with Elizabeth Stewart, he knew what to expect—mostly.The signs were already familiar—the disorienting shift from his own consciousness, the suddenness of being in someone else’s final moments, the helpless awareness that he was about to witness another death.
He knew from the first moment that he wasn’t in his bed or in his body anymore.In fact, he’d never seen this place before.It was cold and damp in a way that spoke of abandonment and decay.While the room was dark, there was enough light filtering in through broken windows for him to be able to see what was happening around him.Even the air smelled damp and mildewy.
He wished he couldn’t see.He also wished he couldn’t feel whatever the person he was in was feeling, because the only thing he could focus on was their pain—searing and like nothing he’d ever experienced before.It radiated from his chest in waves, each pulse worse than the last.He curled in on himself instinctively, but a loud noise made him jump, and he looked around frantically.
Only to be met by the sight of a man aiming a gun at him.
The pain was still there, but Cyril couldn’t look away from the man.How could he when he recognized him?He’d never thought he’d ever see Vale pointing a gun at him—and in a way, he wasn’t—yet here they were.
Vale looked different, though.He was younger, probably by close to ten years.His face held a softness that time and experience had eaten away, his eyes wide and not yet hardened by the weight of the things he carried with him today.His hair was dyed an unnatural shade of red, almost garish in the dim light.The gun in his hand was steady, but he wasn’t, not fully.There was something in his posture, a tension that Cyril wasn’t used to seeing.
Cyril had to look away.He glanced down, not surprised to see blood where he could feel the burning pain.It spread across the fabric, warm and sticky.He’d been shot.
By Vale.
The realization hit him like a physical blow, stealing his breath.He knew what was happening now.There was only one reason for him to be here, and it was that the person he was inside was about to die, just like Elizabeth Stewart had.He didn’t have a lot of time left, but he didn’t know what to do with the seconds he still had.Should he demand Vale explain what he’d done?Would it even make sense to do that?This wasn’t Cyril’s Vale—not the man who brought him coffee in bed and worried when he worked too late.This was a Vale that Cyril didn’t know and would never meet beyond this nightmare.
He wondered if Vale would tell him about it if he asked.Vale had been hiding something that involved the Organization John had escaped from, something that made his jaw tighten and his eyes go distant whenever Cyril pushed for answers.It wasn’t hard to guess what it was now that Cyril was in the thick of it.
