“Saying what?”
I expect him to brush me off, to turn more erratic, to do something insane, but instead, he slips his hand into his pants pocket and retrieves his cell phone with his free hand, the other still wrapped around my backpack.
Wordlessly, he unlocks the device before he turns the screen to me. It’s a stream of text messages from Jude. Not just messages. Orders. Demands.
With a slight tremor to my fingers, I take it from his grasp, my gaze snapping from left to right as I devour every word.
Jude: Where is she, Kael? What part did you play in this?
Jude: Don’t ignore me. We both know what happens when you do that. Do you need a reminder?
Jude: ANSWER ME.
Jude: Since your incompetence is apparent, I had to take matters into my own hands. I know she’s back in The Vale. Multiple sources have confirmed this. You will bring her back to me.
Jude: GODDAMMIT ANSWER ME.
Jude: You will feel my wrath, brother. I swear it. Bring her to me right now.
Jude: You always make me do it, don’t you? So juvenile.
Jude: Famulare mihi. Sis mihi servus. Accipe meum imperium.
Jude: You have until dawn before I do it myself.
“Why haven’t you done it?” I breathe, daring to look up from the cell phone, only to find his tormented eyes already settled on mine.
“Because I don’t want any harm to come to you, but it’s getting harder. I know I set off in search of you to follow through,” he bites through clenched teeth, guilt in his eyes. “It’s like I can’t control it.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod, turning the screen to him as I point to the most confusing part. “What does this mean?” I ask, pointing to the same text message I read three times.
Jude: Famulare mihi. Sis mihi servus. Accipe meum imperium.
I don’t need to see the screen again to know the words, so I keep my gaze fixed on his, which proves to be no better as they glaze over with a pearlescent sheen.
“I’m sorry, Elodie,” he rasps, his shoulders bunching high as he takes a step toward me.
I shoot my free hand out, planting it firmly against his chest. “Kael,” I warn as he grimaces.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats as a single tear tracks down his face.
Horror curls in my veins as I press harder against his chest, feeling his heart beat so fast I’m sure he’s going to die.
“Fight it, Kael,” I blurt, fear seeping into my bones as he groans.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m fighting,” he whispers, discarding my backpack effortlessly before curling his fingers around my upper arm while my other hand is still wrapped around his cell phone.
Swiping across the screen a few times, I panic, hoping for the best as I try to talk him down.
“Me either, but you can, you have to,” I insist as his fingers tighten unbearably.
“There’s no one here to save you, and I can’t stop,” he admits, yanking me against his chest as my hand falls limp between us.
“Then, luckily for us, I just sent out an SOS.”
19
KAEL
