Chapter 6
A week of trying to sneak around the house has left my stomach in knots. Every time I accidentally run into one of them, I quickly pass through a wall.
It’s tense and awkward.
They’re reading books on what I might be so they can evict me from their lives.
I’m mostly hiding because I’m worried they’re going to succeed.
If I can go next level, I’ll be whole. Surely my soul or whatever won’t be attached to anything then, and I can run like a motherfucking freed animal who just escaped the cage of impending doom.
I’ve worked too hard to survive to die now by the hands of the ones who once gave me purpose and a reason to want to survive.
Fortunately, they’ve all gone to bed now. Like a bad habit, I go from room to room, muttering a ‘good night.’
Tomorrow is apparently the gauntlet or whatever, so they turned in early. Even Kai is snoring for a change.
In fact, they’re all sleeping heavily tonight. Ezekiel is also snoring.
He never snores.
I move to the bed, my hand scrolling over the side of his cheek as I study him in confusion. Never once in five years has he snored. He never gets that deep into sleep.
And Kai went to sleep really fast. Which is very unusual.
I move to Jude’s room, finding him to be just as dead to the world as the others. He always sleeps on his back. Tonight he’s on his stomach, and he’s still in his clothes.
I know for a fact he can’t stand sleeping in clothes. He always gets naked.
Backing out of his room, I look around.
Maybe they want to kill me, and maybe I hate them a little, but I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting them.
Which is clearly about to happen.
I jog down the stairs, checking the doors and such. I spot the bottle on the counter they picked up from Harold today, and I freeze.
They only had one shot apiece. Not that I was watching. I just heard Kai telling them only one to douse the nerves and take the edge off.
My eyes hone in on the little swirls of green that I can barely see. It’s almost like my ghostly reflection used to be—so transparent that only the best vision could catch a true glimpse.
Shit.
That’s never been in those bottles before.
The smallest breeze stirs the paper on the counter, and I whirl around, seeing the window open.
Oh no.
I race up the stairs, not seeing anyone around. Then I quickly start shoving my head through the doors, peering in on everyone.
When I get to Jude’s room, though, my heart almost flips out of my chest.
A man with a sword draws closer to Jude’s bed, as another man grips his own sword by the door, holding it in front of him like he expects Jude to stop snoring and start fighting.
I run through the man, not feeling any of those tingles, and race to the bed, passing through it and Jude as I stare at the one who is warily approaching the sleeping Four.
“Stop!” I shout at the man, but he can’t see me.
My eyes dart to the one by the door, but he seems unaware of my presence as well.
The second he draws that sword, I prepare to level up, diving at him just as I did the other one, as every ounce of fear propels my lunge.
But instead of me hitting him with my hand, something flies out of me, and it slams into him. I have no idea what invisible force just zipped through my fingertips, leaving a cold, familiar feeling behind.
His eyes widen as a yelp leaves his mouth, and he crashes into the other man. The other man who…was holding a sword in front of him.
That man looks too stunned to move, while the one with the sword sticking out of his chest opens his mouth in a silent scream. My stomach goes queasy when the veins in his body start turning black. The sword glows brighter and brighter, sucking whatever life is inside him out.
The not-dying guy jerks the sword out of the dying guy, and stares at him in horror as he darts a panicked gaze toward the sleeping man, looking right through me.
With a growl of frustration, he lunges, sword slicing down before I can process. That same familiar feeling crosses through my body and bursts out like an explosion.
The man’s breath catches as he freezes midair, and I keep my hand out as I step closer, feeling whatever foreign power is radiating from me.
It feels like it takes forever, but it all really happens within a matter of seconds. He’s launched across the room just like the other man, but when he collapses, he doesn’t move.
I quickly rush over, fully prepared for him to throw that sword out at me. Instead, my breath hisses from me and I stagger back.
It looks like he has chemical burns all over his face and body. Like his insides were dipped in toxic waste, and now they’re all oozing out of every orifice possible, and burning him away from the inside out.
The burns just get worse, and I have to turn away.
Mr. Dark Veins is on the cusp of death, and he stares directly at me now, when he couldn’t see me earlier.
His lips curve in a slow grin as he coughs and laughs. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but his head falls to the side instead as he goes lifeless.
Dead.
In less than a few minutes, I managed to kill two people. One of which couldn’t see me and then could.
I glance down, finding my hand still mostly transparent, even if my breaths do feel warmer as they stagger from my chest.
Maybe I was an assassin before I was this, because this was too easy. And it felt really right.
Which is seriously freaking disturbing.
I wish I could have a drink right now. I think I deserve it.
Glancing back, I look over at Jude and hear the light sounds of his snores as he sleeps peacefully.
“You’re welcome,” I grumble.
The sound of footsteps approaching sends a chill up my spine. Apparently this night isn’t over.
Somebody really wants these boys—no longer my boys—dead.
My fingers tingle, ready for action. Just because I can, I change out of my normal attire and go for a more badass look, even though they can’t see me.
Because priorities are important.