“See you in Hell.”
I drove the blade through his heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The metallic scent of blood poisoned the air, red droplets staining the collar of Nathaniel’s shirt as I clung onto him, air evading my lungs with every trembling inhale.
“He’s dead,” Nathaniel said in a detached tone, his arms stiffening around my waist.
Dead.
I glanced down at the fresh corpse, a river of blue veins cascading down his pale skin, a waterfall of blood pooling around him.
Dead.
“Police,” I choked out. “We…we should…call–call the police.”
Nathaniel’s expression shifted, wide eyes narrowing as he shook his head. “What? No. They’ll arrest you. Charge you with murder.”
It’s what you deserve.
“But I…” My voice trailed off, a numbing ache settling into every bone and muscle in my body. I swayed, blood drenched hands flickering across my vision, dancing in my mind—death, murder, blood.
I needed to sit down, needed to close my eyes, needed to fall asleep and never wake up.
“Augustus?”
Darkness welcomed me with open arms, Nathaniel’s voice dissolving into a soft hum, a lullaby coaxing me into sleep.
***
I awoke in a bed that wasn’t my own.
A news reporter detailed a recent flood on television, cars roared down the highway, a symphony of rhythmic chaos that lured me from my slumber.
I sat up, ran a hand through my sweat-drenched curls, head pounding as though I had been slammed over the head repeatedly. Blinking, I glanced down at my shirtless torso and–
Where the hell were my clothes?
Confusion. And then panic.
I stood, frantically searching for my clothes. All I found was a white bathrobe, wrapping it around my shivering body in seconds.
A door to my left creaked open. Nathaniel entered, an identical white robe around his slim frame, black hair dripping wet.
“You’re awake,” he breathed out, “how are you feeling?”
“I…what happened?”
“You fainted,” he sighed, shifting closer. “You hit your head pretty hard but I’ve had a look at it…should be okay with some rest.”
I nodded, relaxing at his touch. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the laundry room,” he answered, “they’ll be clean and dry soon.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as fragments of the night returned to me. A sharp blade. Blood. The wet, slippery sound of steel piercing through flesh. Blue veins and decaying skin.
My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the mattress, horror sending ice shards down my spine. “Oh my god.”
