She’s getting visits from the Guild.
I’m growing wings.
When I woke up in the truck out in the desert, I thought it was pretty much over. I mean, I knew the wings would be coming in. But that was all I was expecting. A physical change, which the craving of food is. But I don’t think it’s over. Whatever’s happening to me, these wings are just the beginning.
And Syrsee isn’t just some feeder I need to keep around to eat. Something is happening to her too. She’s sexy. I mean,she’s always been sexy, but she’s more than that now. She’s provocative.
She reminds me of—I sit up. Blinking into the darkness. Unable—unwilling, really—to finish that thought.
But there’s no way to deny it. Syrsee reminds me ofLucia.
“Holy shit.” I say this out loud. Then I say it again. “Ho-lee. Shit.”
I get up, button my jeans, and begin pacing the room. What if…
“No.” I say this out loud too. But saying it and believing it are not, in any way, related to reality in this case.
This is how Lucia became a vampire. It has to be. It’s never been a secret that Paul never considered her a true vampire. It’s also never been a secret that she started her life as a witch.
Though not a Black witch.
But what does it mean? What does this mean for Syrsee?
“Don’t you wish I was still here so you could ask?”
I turn, stunned, and find Paul sitting at the dining table eating a plate of food. But not pasta, like Syrsee and I had for dinner. It looks like… body parts. Bloody body parts. “You’re not here.”
“Does it matter, really? In the grand scheme of things?”
“I’m imagining this. You’re not here.”
“Where am I then, Ryet? Hmm? Do you have any ideas? Because Ifeellike I’m here.” He looks down at his arm, watching it… flicker? Shimmer? Wink? I’m not sure what it’s doing, except proving my point, actually.
He’snothere.
He’s in some kind of dreamwalk.
“I could answer all your questions, you know.”
“How?” I ask.
“Come find me.” He shrugs. Like it’s just that simple.
“Go home, you mean?”
This makes him smile. “So. Youdothink of it as home.” Then he starts laughing and with each passing second, he slowly disappears.
Slowly,gradually, the realization that I am asleep hits me. I’m aware that Paul was nothing but a dream, but I don’t open my eyes and fully wake up until I realize I’m not in bed. I’m not on the couch. I’m not in thehouse, actually.
I’m in the earth.
The sweetness of it is almost intoxicating. And once again, like when I stepped into the root cellar, I can smell everything as individual scents.
This is when I sit up.
Because Iamin the root cellar.
Not just lying on the ground, either. I’m in a hole. Freshly-dug earth mounded around me. Covering me. Comforting me like a blanket.
