Page 95 of Nearly Dead

“The family penthouse may not be safe,” Astrid says as we settle inside.“Elizabeth knows all our defenses.”

“We’ll go to my sanctuary,” Costin decides.“It’s warded against her specifically.”

No one argues.We’re all too exhausted, too shell-shocked by the night’s events.

As the car pulls away, I stare out the window at the fading stars.The power inside me pulses in time with my heartbeat, growing stronger with each passing minute.I should be scared.I should be worried about what I’m becoming.

Instead, I find myself wondering how much stronger I can get.How much more power I can absorb.How many more battles I can win.

The thought should disturb me.It doesn’t.

And that, more than anything, terrifies the small part of me that’s still human.

ChapterTwenty-One

I wake to nothingness.

No hunger.No thirst.No emotional residue from dreams.I just lie in a perfect stillness, as if my body has finally accepted that it has become a vessel for power rather than humanity.If my heart weren’t beating, I’d think I was dead.

It’s been like this for days, and each dusk when I open my eyes, it feels worse.

Or better, I guess, depending on how you look at it.There’s comfort in not having to feel everything.Humans are full of emotions and doubt, worry and stress.It’s an endless mess.I tell myself there is still a human part of me, but I don’t think that’s true anymore.The werewolf, vampire, and magic have crowded the human into a tiny space at the tip of my pinkie.I could cut it off and barely notice it was missing.

I lift my hand in the dark and trace my fingers with my eyes.I bend the pinkie down to consider it.

Costin’s sanctuary is a modernist fortress hidden in plain sight.I honestly would never have guessed this was his.The penthouse apartment is in a building he owns, warded so heavily that even I can see the protective magic shimmering along the walls.The floor-to-ceiling windows are covered with blackout shades to make it safe for vampires.I live an existence suspended between dusk and dawn.We don’t go out.I’m not sure if we’re hiding from Elizabeth, or Costin is keeping me from the outside world.

I hear the shades gliding upward, marking that it’s safe to go out.I slide from the silk sheets, leaving Costin still resting beside me.Even in sleep, he seems troubled, his brow furrowed as if he’s fighting battles in his dreams.I know I’m the cause of his worry, but I can’t seem to summon the appropriate concern.Maybe life has finally won.It’s beaten all the emotion out of me.I’ve cracked.

I should care more.

It’s kind of nice not giving a shit though.

My silk nightgown caresses my skin.I’ll give my vampire lover one thing.He doesn’t skimp on the details.He lives in rich comfort.I feel like a duchess.I’d say queen, but that reminds me of Leviathan and his plan for me.

The marble floor feels pleasant beneath my bare feet as I move to the center of the spacious bedroom.It took me a moment to realize why certain creatures lean toward so much marble.The cleaning up.It’s hard to get blood out of carpet.I don’t want to kill anyone, but I suppose if I had to, I’d try to find a bad person.Someone the world would be better without.

I close my eyes, reaching for the power that now lives inside me like a constant companion.It responds instantly, a cold current flowing through my veins.

I focus on a heavy crystal sculpture on the dresser.The abstract piece must weigh twenty pounds.In the crypt, moving small stones required intense concentration.Now, the sculpture lifts effortlessly, hovering six feet off the ground with just a thought.I’m getting better at this.

I add the lamp.Then a book.Then the chair.Soon, a dozen objects orbit around me in a perfect celestial dance, requiring no more effort than breathing once did.The power hums through me, clean and precise, demanding nothing but my direction.

“Impressive.”

Costin’s voice doesn’t startle me.I sensed him waking, felt his eyes on me before he spoke.I don’t turn as he approaches, keeping the objects suspended with minimal concentration.

“It’s getting easier,” I say, my voice neutral.“Stronger.”

“And how do you feel?”He steps into my field of vision, his expression carefully composed.He’s wearing only sleep pants, his chest bare, hair tousled.He looks vulnerable.The sight should stir something in me, desire, tenderness, love.I remember feeling those things for him, but now they seem distant, like memories from someone else’s life.

“Efficient,” I answer honestly.

Something flickers across his face.Concern?Or perhaps disappointment?I gently lower the objects back to their places and turn to face him fully.

“You’re worried about me,” I state rather than ask.I feel it through our bond.

“Should I be?”His eyes search mine, looking for something I’m not sure is still there.

---