The hatred roared to life in him, but it was now mixed with satisfaction.
Killing Cynthia was good. And if I believe killing to be good, does that not mean that I’m evil? Grace should leave. I should leave. If she gets help from this magical woman... Will it drive me away?
The idea of leaving this prison was wonderful.
Leaving Grace?
“I’ll let you two talk. I am tired.” Nyx let himself unravel, sliding away in silence.
Inside, he slunk back under her bed. Maybe if he remained in the hovering space between shades and souls, he could somehow remain—still with her, yet not a threat to her.
Chapter Fifteen
Grace came barreling up the stairs. “Okay! Listen, did you know this? So, like if a vampire never kills an innocent person to drink their blood—or maybe at all—they can keep their soul, while still being a vampire! It’s like a demon-y thing is lurking, waiting to take possession and kick the mortal soul out of the immortal shell and become the new owner. Mr. Minegold’s never done that, and neither have some other vampires in town. There are at least three because he told me about his two ‘sons.’ Oh, and get a load of this! He said he felt there was something dark and deadly about this place, not in the house, maybe, but in the air. Like it was tainted by death. Like that was you! I had to point out that this was a hospital, and so, yeah—death. He said that was probably it, but I think he... hey? Nyx!”
Grace left the room, voice softer. “Nyx?”
He wasn’t there. In a way that she didn’t understand, she could feel the lack of him, could sense that she was the only presence. The house felt colder. Emptier.
After putting on actual “appropriate for meeting people” clothing, she slid on her sneakers and went outside. “Nyx!” she shouted this time, and crows departed from the trees.
Bridle path.
He said there used to be a bridle path. What is that? Like for horses? I guess everyone used horses back then, so was that just a road?
She stopped at the ring of birches. Her feet were frozen and heavy, as if they were reluctant to penetrate that leaf mulch kingdom encircled with the curiously white trees.
Like a cage of bones.
Don’t be so fucking dramatic. I tell you, you meet one little vampire and start sleeping with one undead ghost-type, and you start imagining all kinds of things.
Grace forced herself forward, edging towards the woods she kept saying she would explore when she had time—but she’d never made time.
So Cynthia died in there?
Sad, but not the end of the world, at least not as a property owner. Lots of people died here at Hilltop. It was a hospital. Like I told Mr. Minegold, hospitals are where you go to get better—and where you stay when they can’t cure you. Tuberculosis was so deadly before they had antibiotics and an effective vaccine.
Grace shuddered, but not because she was afraid of being in a place where people had died. Heck, the place where Nana lived had an ambulance parked beside it at least three times a week, and everyone would hold their breath to see if a person came out of the building strapped to the gurney and wearing an oxygen mask or covered in a sheet as someone scribbled on a clipboard.
Death didn’t freak her out. It made her sad.
But she shuddered again, recalling Nyx’s words.
He killed her. He said he killed her.
