The boy dodged a swipe of the knife, and Weston grimaced. “I wish I could kill you,” he said, surging forward and sinking the knife into the boy’s shoulder, “But I’ll have to settle for this…”
I screamed as the pain seared from my own shoulder, my body bucking against the drunken weight on top of me. Something hot slithered down my arms and the door to my bedroom flew open. Tariq’s face was made round by his gaping mouth and horrified eyes, and it only increased the white-hot pain that was suddenly rushing through my bloodstream. Gerald reared back, and strange lightning flashed before my eyes.
Run, I urged the boy once again.
I wasn’t sure if I could communicate with him. I wasn’t even sure if he was real; but I could feel him slipping away as surely as the blood seeped from his body, and I didn’t want him to die.
Run, I pleaded, as Gerald fell to the side of the bed and began to convulse.
Tariq was frozen, his horror turned downward as Gerald flopped to the floor, alien webs of light closing in around him, seeming to cause him immense pain. The smell of burning flesh rent the air, and Tariq finally looked at me.
“Seph,” he rasped, “stop. You can stop.”
I tried to pull the strange webs of light back to myself, and they retreated willingly, surprisingly obedient. We dragged Gerald into his room and stood there for a few minutes, wondering if he would wake up again. Eventually, we both turned and went back to our bedrooms. We didn’t cry or panic, or call the emergency services as we had so many times in the past, for our mother.
No. We pretended that nothing had happened. We didn’t even speak to each other. If we didn’t say anything out loud, we wouldn’t have to acknowledge the horrible things that we felt inside: the relief, that his eyes were closed; the hope, that they might never open again.
I closed my door lightly and curled up on the bed, reaching for the boy.
He was alone; still reclined against the same table, though the surface was now painted in red. There was another stab-wound in his thigh.
“I know you’re there,” he rasped. “I can feel you in my mind.”
I couldn’t think of a way to communicate with him. I closed my eyes and embraced the shudders that wracked through me. It always happened after Gerald visited my room at night. They originated from somewhere deep inside me; blossoming out to rattle my bones and clatter my teeth together. I whimpered, my head falling against my raised knees. I wanted to submit to the panic, but I didn’t want to release the boy.
Desperately, I pushed the panic attack aside, and clung to him.
“Can you hear me? Can you speak?” His voice was faint, fading away as he slumped backwards onto the table, his head rolling to the side. “I don’t think you know what you’ve done, but it doesn’t mean anything good for you.” He laughed, but the laugh ended on a gurgling cough, and then he was groaning. “God, you have no idea. But it’s okay. I’ll find you, and I’ll make sure you forget everything. I won’t let Weston hurt you.”
His breathing turned laboured, and he wavered out of focus for a moment. I despaired losing him, but I couldn’t cling onto him anymore, because he was even slipping away from himself. He muttered something else, but I didn’t catch it. His voice was too low. I clutched at my trembling knees.
“Say it again,” I pleaded quietly.
“Silas… My name is Silas.”
To be continued…
Dear Readers,
I really hope that you enjoyed the second instalment of the Seraph Black series, and that you’ll stick around to find out what happens to Seph and the gang in the third book, Lead Heart.
If you read anything that made you boil over with fury, please send me a ranting email telling me all about it, because I’m a masochist like that. Alternatively, if you liked the book, please visit either Goodreads or Amazon to leave me a review!
Since I’m an indie author, I rely entirely on word-of-mouth and reviews to get my book out there. So, if none of you review me, the indie mafia will burn down my home and kidnap my family. That’s just how this industry works.
I love getting your emails; doesn’t matter if it’s general pestering, long-winded admiration, phishing scam or ransom demands, so hit me up! My Facebook page can be found here, my Goodreads page here, my Amazon author page here, and my website here.
Now you have no excuses,
Lots of love,
Jane
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Jane Washington, Watercolour Smile
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