Page 31 of The Witch's Heart
I stalk to the door and reach for the knob, but his hand on my wrist stops me. He's cold, like me. But his touch sends a zing of fire through my body, and I can't stop myself from turning around to face him. "What do you want with me?" I ask, the desperation in my voice making me cringe.
"I…I don't know," he admits. "I want to help you. To heal you."
"From what? What do I need to be healed from?" I ask, pinning him down with my hard gaze.
He doesn't let go of my wrist, but his caress is soft, gentle. I could pull away if I wanted to, but I don't.
"You tried to take your life, Celeste. I want to help you find a reason to live it," he says, his expression tender and heartbreaking.
“This coming from an undead,” I snap.
“This coming from an undead,” he agrees.
The pain in his gaze is a reflection of my own and, for a split second, I recognize him for what he is: a kindred spirit. He, too, has wished for death. He, too, had to reimagine his future.
"What is this place really?" I ask, calmed by what I see in him. "If you want me to trust you, start by telling me the whole truth."
He sighs and nods, his shoulders slumping. "I will. But first, I want to show you something."
My curiosity piqued, I move to the side as he opens his office door and leads me down the hall and towards the dungeons that have been my prison since arriving here.
"You asked me to look into your lodging," he says as we walk. "I did. And I want you to see for yourself the truth."
I frown, confused. If he truly looked into it, he would know the kind of conditions we're being kept in. And if he's the kind of man I think he is, he would be angry. Why doesn't he seem angry?
"This place was started as a safe haven for those with…supernatural conditions that could put themselves or others in danger." He glances at me, his eyes full of secrets and sadness. "You're right when you called me a vampire. I was turned many years ago after a violent and bloody death. And now, I can only survive on the blood of other humans."
I shiver. Hearing him confess to this so clearly is almost worse than the lies. "Why would you force us to paint you drinking from blood bags?" I ask. It may not have been what I saw, but it's still creepy as hell.
His body tenses at the question. "I wasn't even there," he says. "You should have all been painting a still life of a fruit bowl. That's it."
"But that's…impossible," I say, pausing in the hallway. "That's not what—" I stop, not wanting to speak about Dean and Declan, lest I get them in trouble.
Behind the doctor, the specter of my twin appears, and a chill steals through me, freezing me bone deep.
Keep your secrets inside you,her voice says into my mind.He shows you lies wrapped in truth and truth wrapped in lies.
Thanks, sis. That's super clear.
"Celeste, are you ill?" The doctor reaches for my hand and flinches. "You're freezing." He pulls off the cardigan he wears and drapes it over my shivering shoulders. His hand lingers on the fabric as if he’d rather pull me against him to warm me with his embrace. But he doesn’t.
"I'm fine," I say through chattering teeth. "It's just drafty."
He glances sideways at me as I start to walk again.
"If you're really trying to help people here, why torture them?" I ask.
Dr. Livingstone shakes his head. "There's never been any torture, Celeste. That's what I'm trying to tell you. People born like you, people like me and the others here, it can make you mentally unwell. It's a kind of corruption of the blood that poisons the mind. We are trying to fix that. To help you all."
What does he mean people born like me?
"So you're crazy too?" I ask.
He shrugs. "There's madness in all of us, but I've learned to control it. It's whatLe Rêvewas created for. To help you control it, so you're no longer a threat to yourself or others."
"This seems a very extreme way of going about it. Yes, I tried to take my life because of what happened to my sister, but I'm not a threat to others. Regular therapy in a proper setting would have been sufficient. There's no need for this Lovecraftian horror show."
The doctor pauses in the hallway, just before the entrance to the dungeon. He turns me towards him, his hands holding mine, his gaze penetrating. "So you believe we have mistreated you?"
