Shit.
Chelsea watches me with an evil smile as I fall to my knees in front of her, and then drop dead to the pavement.
CHAPTERFIVE
The entire universe rumbles.I feel everything funnel, every star and asteroid, every bit of space junk, and all the moons you could imagine flow to the same narrow point.
Before it all explodes in a volcanic eruption.
A gasp rips out of me as I sit up, my hands clawing at my chest.
Someone curses, and I look up to find I’m in an alleyway. Santiago gapes at me in utter disbelief. There are trace amounts of blood on his hands, and I realize he dragged me from the sidewalk here.
“Estabas muerto,” he says in awestruck mortification. “Vi a Chelsea matarte.”
My heart starts hammering faster. No. Bad. Bad. This is bad. Witnesses to what I can do are bad.
“How are you alive?” Santiago demands, crossing the alley. His expression shifts from shock, to villainous curiosity. He grips me by my bloodied dress. “I followed Chelsea and then I watched her stake you through the heart.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw,” I say, trying to come up with a plausible lie on the fly. “But that Chelsea is a bitch. Don’t go calling her names or she’ll knock you flat out.”
Santiago shakes his head. “I know what I saw. You were dead, gray on the ground. I moved your damn body so no one would call the police.”
“That’s impossible,” I point out, trying to get my legs working. I feel sluggish when I first come back. I know I need to get out of here. I need to take care of this problem. But my brain isn’t working as fast as it should be.
“You’ve done this more than once,” he says, realization dawning in his dark eyes. “You would not be so calm otherwise.”
“You’re being way too dramatic, and you’re totally daydreaming,” I say, getting desperate to get out of here.
Santiago smiles and shakes his head. And I can see the devious plan shifting in his eyes. Forget trying to woo Chelsea. “I don’t think so.”
In a movement that’s nothing more than a blur, he drags out a blade, and plunges it down into my heart.
Dammit.
With a wet gasp, I die for the second time in the last twenty-five minutes.
Way to break your own records, Juliet.
It begins with the quaking.Deep, coming from the core of the Earth, except it all happens within my own impossible system. Then the noise penetrates every bit of consciousness I have, deep, low. It builds and builds, and finally, it all erupts.
Automatically, my hands fly to my chest, and a yell of agony rips from my throat as I sit up. My chest is a cavern of pain, surely someone has just scooped my heart out and has left my ribcage wide open.
But there is no gaping hole in my chest. There is no stake, no blade. Just my bloodied skin, smooth and even.
“How many times have you Resurrected?”
My head rips in the direction of the voice, and I find Santiago sitting in a chair in the corner. My eyes dart around, trying to quickly evaluate the seriousness of the situation.
I’m in a room. It’s dark. There are no windows. There’s only a bed which I’m sitting on and that chair he occupies.
With vampiric speed, I dart for the door, yanking it open.
Only to hiss in complete agony at the blinding sunlight that feels like it sears all the way into the back of my skull.
Out of sheer survival instinct, I shove the door closed, plunging myself back into the comforting darkness.
“It’s only eight in the morning,” Santiago says with a satisfied smile. “We have hours of daylight coming at that door. And don’t think you’re just going to cover your eyes and run for cover. We’re nowhere near any form of shelter.”