“Max!” she screeched, trying to run in the direction he had fallen when Chance stretched out his arm to clothesline her. When the breath was knocked from her lungs, Chance pulled her into his arms, the hand clutching the gun pressed to the side of her head.
“Shh…shh…” he soothed, petting her hair as he tightened his grip on her. “It’s all right.”
“How could you?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. She would’ve punched him except his grip was so tight, her arms were folded across her chest, trapped between their two bodies.
“Easily,” he said, wrapping his fingers around a lock of her raven-colored hair. “That’s what I wanted to do all along.”
Luna felt her anger rise in her throat. She had watched both of her friends die, and it didn’t matter to him. The rage got the best of her. Instinctively, she let out an enraged shriek and broke free from his grip, reaching up to slap him as hard as she could with tears in her eyes.
In less than a second, he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and held the gun to her temple with the other one. She could feel the cold metal on her scalp—the sensation added to her heart-wrenching terror. At any minute it could cut her world to black. She closed her eyes as she waited for him to pull the trigger. After a minute, he still hadn’t shot her, and she opened her eyes to look at him. Her face should’ve been filled with emotion, but instead, it was blanched, completely pale with a stoic expression. Chance ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he stared back at her.
“Go.” She recognized his bark of irritation.
He started walking and pushed her ahead of him, the gun still held to her head though he had let go of her wrists. She felt a tear run from her eye, but this time it wasn’t the Teardrop of Knowledge. It was her sorrow for her lost friends. It wasn’t a dream, she wouldn’t wake up, and they wouldn’t be okay.
What happened would be forever.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced down toward the front of his pants. She couldn’t see the handle of his dagger, but by the shape of the nearest pocket, she knew it was there. She smiled. Luna moved her hand slowly, hoping she wouldn’t attract his attention. She flexed her fingers for a minute, mentally running through her plan before she plunged her hand inside. In one swift motion, she grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it out of his pocket.
He tilted his head down to look at the same time she sunk the knife into his stomach. He pushed her to the ground, and she lay there, stunned. She watched Chance anxiously as the next second passed gruelingly slow. He aimed the gun at her head, and she knew if she tried to run she’d get shot for sure. With his free hand, he pulled out the bloodstained dagger and set it into his other pocket.
Luna stared in disbelief as she propped herself up on her elbows, watching as he cocked his head to the side, jutting his jaw out with a hint of a smirk on his face. He seemed to be in no pain at all.
“D-didn’t that hurt?” she stammered.
He snorted as he raised his eyebrows. “As if that would kill me. Get real, Luna.”
“A-are you possessed?” she uttered the first thing that came to her mind.
Chance laughed, the notion lighting up his features. “No, but I think that would make a good title for our little story here if it were ever made into a movie.”
She stared at him, her lip trembling in quiet horror as he lifted his shirt to reveal his ivory stomach in the spot where she had stabbed him. She expected a mess—bloody and gory like she had seen of the girl he had slain in his dream cabin. Instead, there was no wound.
“I don’t see any blood,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he gestured to his stomach with the gun.
“How...how is that possible? I stabbed you,” Luna murmured as she stared at the perfect, unmarked skin, stunned. She reached her hand to her parted lips, wondering if the scene before her was even real. “I don’t understand.”
He snorted again. “Good. I’ll tell you right now that a knife is not going to do any harm to me. I’d give you an ‘A’ for effort though.”
Staring at his sneering face, she realized why Max had been so frightened of fusion—it made them invincible. Nothing could stop them once the dream character took over. She frowned as she thought of Max.
How could she escape Chance’s clutches if there was no way to physically injure him? Max had been about to tell her what the only weapon against Chance was. For all her thinking, she couldn’t seem to figure out what he had been about to say.
“Get up, I’m done playing around,” he said, kicking toward her. She feared his boot would connect with her ribs until he pulled it away at the last second.
Luna stood slowly to her feet as he kept the gun aimed at her. For a moment, she started to wonder if he actually would shoot her or if it was just a fear tactic to get her to obey. She had already run away and fought back, yet he hadn’t been inclined to pull the trigger. She wondered how much more she could get away with before he decided to finally hurt her.
Should I run again?
The thought tempted her, but she couldn’t afford it. Another wrong move may be one too far. He may be invincible, but she wasn’t—one gunshot and she could suffer the same fate Violet and Max had shared. He reached his free hand toward her, and Luna flinched, assuming he’d strike her. Instead, his hand cupped her jaw as he studied her. He smirked, the look haughty as if he had read her thought, before he let her go and turned her away from him. He held the cold metal to the back of her head as he pushed her through the trees.
Chance hummed behind her, the happy sound drifting through the forest. Luna’s sobbing halted as she sniffled, exhaling with the feelings of disbelief and rage. In the midst of every terrible thing he had done over the past twenty minutes, he was happy.
They walked for a long time. She didn’t speak in fear she’d only encourage him to shoot. She frowned as once again she tried to guess what Max had been about to say. Nothing came to mind. She closed her eyes for a moment to hold in the tears at the thought of Max and Violet. She needed her brainpower to focus on getting out of her situation, then she’d be able to pay them the proper respects they deserved. She distracted herself by noting the fact that the forest around them grew darker and darker, until the sky above was ominously gray, like smoke filled the air.
Luna turned to Chance as she felt another trill of fear pass through her. “Where are we going?”
“Shut up and walk,” he replied stridently, his free hand grasping the collar at the back of her shirt as if he assumed she would make another break for it.
Luna swallowed the anger that rose in her throat; she hated having to do as he said, but her fear outweighed her frustration. As they walked, the ground beneath their feet turned rocky, and the grass didn’t grow in the soot-like stones. The trees thinned out considerably. The canopy of leaves no longer blocked the route to the sky, and the heavy gray air seemed to sit thickly above them.
She recognized the dark path they walked on. There was no questioning where they were going. She remembered, in the dream, it had led to the cabin in the clearing. Max had been right all along. Chance was playing out the dream, and he was impervious to pain—what could she do? She obeyed him of course, hating herself for every moment of it, while walking through the foliage to almost certain death.
It wasn’t a good feeling, knowing she had to face death no matter what she chose to do. She swallowed heavily, finding her throat had closed a bit from her quiet sobbing. In the distance, she saw Chance’s midnight black truck. Her heart started again with a new flutter of panic as she realized he led her to it.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded again, freezing in place a few feet away.
“Silence,” he replied, tugging on the back of her shirt until the fabric pulled into her throat.
She swallowed again, forcing her feet to move to relax the pressure from her clothing as they got closer to the truck. Was he leading her to it to kill her? He grabbed her waist with his free hand and with th
e one that clutched the gun, he opened the back door. Luna’s fight-or-flight kicked in, and she bucked against him in her effort to back away from the vehicle. He caught her easily, holding her in place.
His lips brushed her ear before he whispered, “Don’t make me tie you up.”
When she froze, he thrust her inside and closed the door. She moved to open it, to try to escape, but he was even faster to get into the driver’s seat and lock it. She pounded on the window, trying desperately to get out before he would have the opportunity to start driving.
“I got reinforced locks this time,” he said darkly, peering at her in the rearview mirror. “Good luck getting away.”
Luna couldn’t help but cry as he began to drive. Briefly, she considered attacking him to make the truck stop. She stared at the back of his head, the desire to fight strong in her. If he crashed the truck, he wouldn’t be hurt, only she would be.
She reached out a shaking hand to set it on the back of his seat. “Where are you taking me?” she tried again.
“You’ll see,” he replied, his voice just as ominous as he pulled a hand off the steering wheel to reach up and clutch hers.
She bowed her head, her tears now a torrent as they streamed down her face.
“Don’t cry, angel,” Chance said softly, switching the radio on to block her out.
Luna didn’t say anything else as she pulled her hand free; she wrapped her arms around her body as she wept. Chance drove carelessly. The hardened dirt made the ride rough, and Luna moved with each bump. He swerved and the force caused Luna to fly sideways, slamming her head against the window. Pain radiated through her scalp in the same spot Chance’s gun had touched earlier. She pulled back long enough to see her own blood smeared in the cracked glass before she passed out.
Chapter Forty-Seven
WHEN LUNA’S EYES fluttered open again, Chance hovered above her. His long, blonde hair rolled down his face, and his hands rested on either side of her head as his knees sat on either side of her hips. He stared at her closely, studying the lines of her countenance for signs of life. She quickly realized she lay in the backseat of the truck. Everything seemed surreal as her consciousness began to come back.
When her eyes fully opened, they locked onto Chance’s, and her heart filled with fear once again. She wished she would’ve stayed unconscious. She dragged her eyes from his face to his hands beside her head and realized they were empty. She took the gun-less opportunity to push him away with the last of her strength, feeling her heart sink when he didn’t budge; he smirked down at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes before he backed off of her, standing by the open door. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his gun again. She froze when she caught sight of it, memories of the past hour of terror flooding her mind.
“You’ll do better if you don’t push me again,” he warned.
Luna sat up slowly and backed against the far door. She pulled her legs up to her chest and stared at him as he threatened once again to shoot her.
“I’ll say this nicely,” he stated slowly, as if talking to a child. “Get out of the truck.”
Fear consumed her to the point that her brain seemed to fail her. She shook her head absently.
“Get. Out. Of. The. Truck,” he demanded through clenched teeth.
“No,” she answered, her voice a whisper.
Chance growled and tucked the gun away as he stepped back into the truck and lunged at her. His hands grabbed at her legs and her side as he tried to pull her toward him. She slid a bit against the black leather seats, screaming and crying out as she smacked his hands away. For a few minutes, he wasn’t detoured as he used his natural strength and size to overpower her. To his frustration, she didn’t show any signs of backing down.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said and summoned his dagger.
Luna stared at it, the tears stuck in her eyes as she watched him wield the blade he had hidden for so long.
He crouched above her once again, the tip of the knife hanging precariously above her. She cried the hardest yet as she tried to get out from under him—to get out of range of the knife. Chance had her perfectly trapped as he sunk the blade into her stomach. The pain was worse than anything she had ever felt before. She could feel it ripping away her muscles and tendons. Fire spread through her midriff as the blade dug deeper. She screamed at the top of her lungs before it died away and she was left staring up at him in pain and agony. The look he returned was cold.
He bent toward her suddenly. “It’s not so fun, is it?” he whispered in her ear before he pulled back, meeting her gaze as he pulled the knife out gingerly. He admired her blood coating the blade as he ran his fingers down the edge so the crimson stained his skin.
Luna clutched at the wound as blood leaked between her fingers. Chance set the dagger back in his pocket and grabbed Luna’s wrists roughly as she lay still against the backseat. She wailed miserably—every jostling movement sent rays of pain throughout her body. Chance didn’t appear to care. He easily adjusted her to pick her up despite her pleas. He held her in his arms bridal style, her bloody hands smearing the substance all over Chance’s shirt as she feebly attempted to get away. He didn’t seem to notice.
Luna clutched at her stomach again. “Ch-Chance…I-I need to g-go to the hospital.”
“No.”
In her heart, Luna was positive she was going to die. This was the moment her dreams had been warning her of. Her stomach felt like it had split in half. Her heart pounded so hard it made her blood flow out much faster and thicker than it should have.
Chance still didn’t seem to care.
He kept walking. Luna swallowed, searching desperately for something she could use to slow the bleeding. She realized they emerged into a clearing...just like in the dream. Her eyes widened in horror as she recognized the cabin. It was small, and the dark brown walls had ivy growing through the cracks. She could only see one window, which looked like it had been painted over in black. The roof was badly damaged by the weather. Every detail matched that of the dream cabin.
For a moment, her pain was nonexistent as she stared at it. She didn’t want to go in; that would be her final destination. The sight of it, even from halfway across the clearing, brought her enough fear to deliver her heart the final blow. She wiggled in his arms, hoping he’d drop her. Chance’s grip tightened as he grew annoyed again. He exhaled loudly before staring down at her through narrowed eyes.
“Why fight?”
She tilted her head to look at up at him. She realized, horrified, that he had her blood wiped on his face. “What?” she wondered innocently, her voice fading out as she clutched at her wound as if she had no idea what he was talking about.
“You know what happens next. Stop fighting it.”
Luna frowned and turned her attention back toward the cabin. The dream version of Chance couldn’t be tricked as easily as the real version had been. She shied away from the dilapidated old building, but she knew she had no choice. Her other act of bravery had resulted in a blow she might not ever recover from. She couldn’t imagine how much worse he would make it for her if she decided to fight again.
The door was already open, and Chance sidestepped through the doorway, forcing her inside. It was dingy and dark and the thick air smelled musty. A single white candle sat on a table in the middle of the room, casting just enough light for her to see the cobwebs which stretched across the walls like white banners. Two more candles were placed, one on each of the two windowsills. She studied every detail of the cabin.
Chance came to a stop, and Luna stared at the dark wall. The familiar, silver, dog-chain shackles sat at her feet. Chance set her on the ground lightly, taking more care than she expected. He closed each shackle around her wrist before she even had the chance to protest—not that she had the strength to resist. He stared at her admiringly; his green eyes seemed black in the darkness as she looked back at him.
Without warning, he leaned forward and pressed his
lips to hers. Her eyes widened in shock and repulsion. Her first instinct was to push him away and spit rage at him like she had before. She couldn’t do that. Chance had a knife and a gun, and her wound was too deep to fight. She had lost a lot of blood already, and she wondered how much longer she would be able to stay conscious.
He pulled back and looked at her. His face was emotionless and his dark eyes were blank. Was it possible that had canceled his fusion? She frowned. That was impossible, his fusion was complete. He had done it to make sure.
I hope he’s content with that.
Chance stood up and turned away.
“Why me?” she asked him quietly, struggling to hang on as her breath wheezed in her chest.
She might be dying, but there was no way she’d let him trap her mind.
He turned back to her as if surprised she had asked. “Come on, Luna, I thought you liked tragedies,” he said, flashing his teeth. The candlelight reflected off the bright white, giving him a Cheshire-cat grin.
She felt sick at the sight of his taunting smile.
“If you must know, it was your Teardrop of Knowledge.”
“But you don’t need it,” she said pointedly as she held her blood-soaked shirt over the wound, trying to soak up as much of it as possible. “You’ve never needed it.”
His smile disappeared. “Yes, I do. With your ability, I can pull whatever I want from the DreamWorld in a matter of seconds. Look at all the things you’ve already done for me, my dear. This cabin wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Fusioin would’ve taken much longer, I’m sure. That gift of yours will be able to help me greatly, so much more than it already has.”
“What is the point of all of this?” she inquired, shuffling a bit as she gathered a fresh wad of her shirt over the wound in her stomach. “Killing Susan, Violet, and Max? Kidnapping me? Stabbing me? If the cops catch you, your life is over. You could be living the last few days of your life doing this. Why?”
“I’m not worried about the police,” he said, shrugging.