I’ll find him,” she said. “And not even you will hinder me.”
The pain both he and Emily were feeling suddenly dispersed and seeped through the floor, then was replaced by a flood of warmth and a blanketing sense of security. With effort, she got up, but when she turned to face her attacker, Jason couldn’t see who it was. An aura of thick blackness settled around the unknown danger like smoke without a breeze, concealing his face.
“The Prophecy ?” A note of mockery stained the word. “I do not give credit to that. It’s not even important if there’s one word of truth in it. You still hope he’ll come and save you all? From me?” The voice was calm and confident, framed by a jeering edge.
“You’re not afraid? Then why do you hide your face?” she demanded.
The shadow laughed, a low, forbidding sound that bounced around the tile walls. “I do not hide.” He took a step closer, and Emily dutifully retreated. “It’s a game I’m going to win, Emily. The rules are simple. Your part is to watch me kill your savior. And now, since I know he is watching and listening while you and I have this heart-to-heart talk, he knows, too. Why are you doing this? You know it’s a dead end.”
“I proclaimed the Prophecy, Pariah. I’m not afraid of you. You won’t be able to kill me because the Beholder will come, and the Darksighted will have to hide from him.”
She wrenched at her inner pocket, reaching for something, then bolted aside when a deafening roar blasted the room. The remaining sections of the mirror and chunks of wall tile broke off in a shower of razor-edged splinters, and though Jason tried to readjust his vision and mind, everything happened too fast. The storm of sound rolled over him so quickly that he understood what was happening only after several pieces had ripped into the girl’s flesh. Pain blurred her sight, and everything was smashed by the thunderous lash of the creature’s whip.
The girl startled Jason with her swiftness. Everything moved fast forward—very, very fast. The evil lashes struck everywhere, yet the girl managed to dodge them. Hope swelled in Jason’s chest, hope that she would escape this assassin. She couldn’t die—not yet. The girl was Jason’s only hope of finding out the truth. She was going to make it. She was—
The lash whistled past her left ear with a painful swish—
Jason awoke with a jerk, hand pressed against the ear that should have hurt. But it didn’t. The dream was over, and the pain nonexistent.
At least … to him.
Chapter 9
At first, Jason didn’t recognize the room. His eyes flicked from place to place, unsuccessfully searching for an anchor, something familiar to which he could relate. A bead of perspiration trickled down his forehead in an irregular line, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach, afraid he was about to be sick.
This is insane! was all he could think. He’d seen this girl before, in a dream. She’d been in the tunnel, fleeing for her life— had she been running from him? —then he’d seen her lying on the ground, convulsing in pain. Now she’d reappeared, very much alive, and this time he’d seen her face. It was the same girl. Jason was sure.
What was going on? How was any of this possible?
Could he be seeing the future as Matt had said?
Matt. The thought of his friend brought him back to the present, and the lines of Debbie’s guest room slid back into place. Slowly the rolling waves of nausea ebbed away, enabling Jason to shift his position. But the slight action made him realize that if he moved any further, pizza and beer would be out in no time.
She’s there right now.
There was absolutely no reason for it, no evidence at all to support his decision to leave, but deep in his soul Jason knew the girl was still there, fighting for her life in the restroom at Evelyn & Laurens. Fighting nausea, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and scrambled into his clothes, then paused at the
The pain both he and Emily were feeling suddenly dispersed and seeped through the floor, then was replaced by a flood of warmth and a blanketing sense of security. With effort, she got up, but when she turned to face her attacker, Jason couldn’t see who it was. An aura of thick blackness settled around the unknown danger like smoke without a breeze, concealing his face.
“The Prophecy ?” A note of mockery stained the word. “I do not give credit to that. It’s not even important if there’s one word of truth in it. You still hope he’ll come and save you all? From me?” The voice was calm and confident, framed by a jeering edge.
“You’re not afraid? Then why do you hide your face?” she demanded.
The shadow laughed, a low, forbidding sound that bounced around the tile walls. “I do not hide.” He took a step closer, and Emily dutifully retreated. “It’s a game I’m going to win, Emily. The rules are simple. Your part is to watch me kill your savior. And now, since I know he is watching and listening while you and I have this heart-to-heart talk, he knows, too. Why are you doing this? You know it’s a dead end.”
“I proclaimed the Prophecy, Pariah. I’m not afraid of you. You won’t be able to kill me because the Beholder will come, and the Darksighted will have to hide from him.”
She wrenched at her inner pocket, reaching for something, then bolted aside when a deafening roar blasted the room. The remaining sections of the mirror and chunks of wall tile broke off in a shower of razor-edged splinters, and though Jason tried to readjust his vision and mind, everything happened too fast. The storm of sound rolled over him so quickly that he understood what was happening only after several pieces had ripped into the girl’s flesh. Pain blurred her sight, and everything was smashed by the thunderous lash of the creature’s whip.
The girl startled Jason with her swiftness. Everything moved fast forward—very, very fast. The evil lashes struck everywhere, yet the girl managed to dodge them. Hope swelled in Jason’s chest, hope that she would escape this assassin. She couldn’t die—not yet. The girl was Jason’s only hope of finding out the truth. She was going to make it. She was—
The lash whistled past her left ear with a painful swish—
Jason awoke with a jerk, hand pressed against the ear that should have hurt. But it didn’t. The dream was over, and the pain nonexistent.
At least … to him.
Chapter 9
At first, Jason didn’t recognize the room. His eyes flicked from place to place, unsuccessfully searching for an anchor, something familiar to which he could relate. A bead of perspiration trickled down his forehead in an irregular line, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach, afraid he was about to be sick.
This is insane! was all he could think. He’d seen this girl before, in a dream. She’d been in the tunnel, fleeing for her life— had she been running from him? —then he’d seen her lying on the ground, convulsing in pain. Now she’d reappeared, very much alive, and this time he’d seen her face. It was the same girl. Jason was sure.
What was going on? How was any of this possible?
Could he be seeing the future as Matt had said?
Matt. The thought of his friend brought him back to the present, and the lines of Debbie’s guest room slid back into place. Slowly the rolling waves of nausea ebbed away, enabling Jason to shift his position. But the slight action made him realize that if he moved any further, pizza and beer would be out in no time.
She’s there right now.
There was absolutely no reason for it, no evidence at all to support his decision to leave, but deep in his soul Jason knew the girl was still there, fighting for her life in the restroom at Evelyn & Laurens. Fighting nausea, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and scrambled into his clothes, then paused at the
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