“Why didn’t you tell me about Darius?” she asked. My heart jumped into my throat. She was so near, I could reach out and touch her, comfort her the way I should have, apologize the way I’d wanted to. “We could have stopped him. We could have run. You just let him go.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked. I couldn’t breathe. Tears slid down my cheeks. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
Don’t move, Adrian.Dante’s tone was a comfort amidst a sea of buzzing.Don’t listen to them. They aren’t real.
I knew that. In my mind, Iknewthat. And yet…
“Come with me, Adrian,” Dahlia spoke again, and I could have sworn I felt the faint brush of her fingertips against my cheek. “You owe me that much.”
“Where?” I asked, my voice cracking in the dark.
“Come,” she said again.
Adrian!
I sank to my knees, shaking my head. I pressed the flats of my palms against my ears, but it made no difference. They were coming faster now, stronger, closer. And there were so many of them. They spoke all at once, drowning out everything, even Dante.
“He was our son.” Orson and Dionne.
“The Geist will never honor you.” Cyrus.
No, no, no.I muttered incomprehensibly as I pressed my face against the ground. Carpet, maybe. Or dirt? It had a faint, strange aroma. I focused on it, fighting the urge to reach for them, clenching my eyes shut tightly despite the tears that streaked freely down my cheeks.
“You aren’t good enough.” Cosmo.
“You can’t do this.” Myrine.
“I don’t need you.” Dante.
But not the real Dante. He was still sending me those same warnings, but based on the gasping, harried way his voice pushed into my mind, he was suffering the same onslaught. I tried to send him encouragement in return. Tried and failed.
I screamed and rolled onto my side on the floor in agony, pressing my palms harder against my ears.
Until it stopped.
Shaking, I lowered my hands and peered through the darkness as if expecting them to all be standing around me. But the void remained empty.
Dante, did you—
“Adrian.”
The voice was soft this time. So soft, I almost didn’t hear it. I wouldn’t have if there were any other noise in the room than the thumping of my frantic heart.
I slowly turned toward where the voice seemed to come from.
“I’m here, Adrian.” Darius.
I gasped.
“No,” I answered but my own voice cracked with doubt. “No, you aren’t.”
“I am.”
“It’s not possible.”
“Why not? You said yourself we don’t know where the Culled are sent. Isn’t it possible they’ve brought me back? For this?”
“No.” I shook my head, but I didn’t have an argument for that. He was right. I had said that.
