“OK.” Eden shrugged back her shoulders and stuck out an arm. “Let's do this.”
*
The prick of the needle had been nothing. A sting. The sitting, waiting for the convulsions had been somewhat excruciating.
But this…
The actual convulsions…
Eden wasn't even aware of where she was anymore. She didn't know what she was doing, how she'd gotten there, who the murmuring voices around her belonged to. All she saw was pure blinding white. All she felt was pure, burning pain. A white heat. Ice cold in its intensity. It ripped and clawed and gripped her muscles, twisting this way and that. It gnawed, scratched and stuck needles into her bones. It taunted her heart, which raced faster and harder, galloping against her chest as if desperate to be anywhere but inside her.
I'm desperate to be anywhere but inside me.
Pain thudded, thud thud thud, against the back of her head and her teeth rattled in her mouth. She couldn't even scream. She could only exist as her body took over and…
… died…
Chapter Four
The Dead Look
Noah stared at Eden in disbelief. There was a sick churning in his stomach and tightness in his chest that he refused to believe was panic. Trying not to tremble, Noah dropped Eden's limp wrist.
Her pulseless limp wrist.
Staggering back from the bed he attempted to drag his eyes from the sight of her deathly pale face.
It no longer looked human. There was no expression in her features. No life.
Feeling an overwhelming rush of anger Noah whirled around to glare at Valeria, even though Cyrus stood right next to her. They were alone in October's bedroom. The walls were painted a ridiculous lemon yellow, the mass of it broken up with delicate paintings of flowers that had been stencilled to simulate a border along the walls. Plastering the walls were posters of rock bands and vampires, and (Noah had barely refrained from rolling his eyes when he first saw them) fan pics of Robert Pattinson, the poster child for vampire romanticism. When Noah had first seen the room he'd thought it funny that the owner, with all her attitude and warrior blood, was a fan of supernatural lore.
You'd think living it would be enough to cure you of any fascination or need for paranormal escapism.
But right now his unease wasn't over the nauseatingly girly bedroom. It was brought on by the truth that had been withheld from him.
Eden was dead.
“Why the hell didn't you tell me she was going to die?!” he seethed, careful to keep his anger directed at Valeria and not his Princeps.
Cyrus answered anyway and in that infuriatingly calm way of his. “We did not want to upset Eden and frighten her. We know she is coming back from this but she might not have trusted us. And you… you are too close. You would have fought us on this and made the situation worse.” Noah's blood boiled, his lungs working overtime to unknot the tension in his chest. “Of course I would have. If she doesn't come back from this…” he trailed off, unable to even think of a world without Eden in it. Even when she was being pissy and angry at him, it was OK. As long as he knew she was alright, he could handle the pissy, furious Eden. Because as long as she was alright there was always hope that one day she'd forgive him and they would be able to start over again. “What if she doesn't come back from this?”
Cyrus looked somewhat sympathetic. Valeria, on the other hand, showed her age. She had no patience for being questioned, especially by someone much younger. In fact, most of The Circle were impatient when questioned. They had amazing patience when it came to everything else but every single one of them was a know-it-all. Mix that up with centuries of dealing with people and emotions, they were somewhat… desensitized. Yeah, that was it. The Circle definitely weren't the most sensitive Ankh. Cyrus was different, as was Noah's own parents. Noah's dad said Cyrus changed centuries ago when he met Merrit. She softened him, made him remember how to be human again.
They'd loved one another for almost an entire millennium. It was rare for Ankh to find an immortal beloved as Noah's parents had and he couldn't even comprehend how devastating it was for Cyrus to lose Merrit. That's why he understood Cyrus' tight hold on what was left of her.
Eden.
He understood that all too well. Eden had a way of crawling inside; even demolishing the defences of a young Ankh who swore he had no time for friends or a relationship other than the one he had with his parents.
Noah dropped his head, drawing in a deep breath, hating the sense of emptiness he felt from behind him on the queen-sized bed.
“I think I would know if this will work or not, Noah Valois,” Valeria snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was Unforeseen. I did die. I did come back Ankh. Trust me. And if not me, then your Princeps.”
“The process is a rebirth, Noah,” Cyrus tried to explain. “She has to die in order to kill the soul eater inside. The Neith blood keeps the Ankh on the precipice between life and death, until it works its way into her entire system, and finally into her heart. She will be in a lot of pain when her heart starts again. We must watch over her vigilantly until she awakens.” At that precise moment Noah's cell buzzed in his pocket. Sighing, he reached in and flipped it open.
You haven't called. Did you get there safely? Call me immediately. Mom x If he called his mother she'd have him on the phone for ages and he didn't have the time right now. His fingers flew over the buttons.
We got here safely. Can't talk right now. Eden needs me. N