Where Dreams Descend - Janella Angeles Page 0,130

fail to realize is there are other monsters in this world. Outside of the House, I’m hardly the worst of them.”

“Then who? If not you, who would be so cruel as to do all of this to one little city?”

A beat of silence passed between them, before a shadow swept across the floor. A spill of darkness, rising swiftly before her. She’d steeled herself when Jack took shape, her muscles seizing.

“Would you even believe me, if I told you?”

Kallia didn’t know. To humor him felt like giving an inch. To believe him, a forgiveness.

He gave her no choice as he took her hand. His grip, tight and cold. She struggled and pulled back. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m trying to show you,” he said, cautious. “You can never tell who’s listening.”

Kallia’s skin prickled. “There’s no one else here.”

“Not that you know of.” Jack raised a hand to her head, threading his fingers through her hair. His fingertips pressed at her skull, and her mind fell still.

At first, darkness.

Then, shadows.

They rose, monstrous dolls come to life—darkened figures, walking toward her, just like the ones from Juno’s mind.

Kallia.

Kallia.

Kallia.

They spoke in one voice, familiar as a dream. Her breath broke as she slammed her palms onto his chest to push him away, nearly falling when her fingers met mist. Jack didn’t glory in the illusion this time. Form fading, he calmly stepped back.

“Believe me or don’t, that’s your choice. But don’t pretend like I haven’t spent all these years trying to keep us both away from this,” he said, as if beginning a sad story. The end, already foretold. “I’ve only ever tried to let it sleep. By coming here, you woke it up.”

A sudden rustle in the room sent a jolt through her. Jack’s gaze ran beyond her shoulder, and he sighed. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Her voice went ragged. She grasped at his arms, but there was nothing. Just an outline of his body, beginning to fade. He looked down at her grip trying to keep him in place, brows drawn at the sight.

“Whatever happens, remember what I said. He will only put you in harm’s way, and soon, you will not be able to protect yourself,” he said hurriedly. “You must be careful.”

In an instant, he was gone. The room lightened in his absence, the flickering candles regaining brightness and the flames in the hearth crackling heartily amongst the logs. Whatever Jack had seen was enough to startle him away.

Heart beating fast, she took in the room.

There was no change, nor anyone else around as she’d feared.

Only the vanity, standing proud. And the mirror uncovered once more.

40

Daron stood at the foot of the Prima’s grand staircase, looking up so often his neck began to creak. He waited for that familiar flash of dark hair or colorful burst of a dress among the passing flood of strangers who eyed him in confusion. He nodded at them in awkward greeting, drumming his fingers along the rail.

Kallia hadn’t knocked at his door last night. Not that he’d expected her to. It was better that she hadn’t, for how his thoughts ran in restless circles all night, processing it all. What had happened in the hallway, what it meant. If it changed nothing at all, or everything. One thing he knew for certain: he needed to see her again. Almost every day, he’d seen her, though this time was different. Uncharted.

When he’d swept his fingers through his hair this morning and left his room to find her, someone already stood outside her door.

A uniformed guard, arms clasped behind him and feet planted solid.

“Is … is everything all right?” Daron sobered instantly. “Has something happened?”

“Everything is perfectly fine, Judge Demarco. Only a safety precaution,” the man said, looking straight ahead. “If you wish to see her, I will be escorting her downstairs when she’s ready.”

Daron cocked a brow. “Does she know this?”

The guard said nothing more. A dismissal.

Which was how Daron found himself at the foot of the stairs, watching one hotel guest after another pass him. Once contestants began trickling down the steps, accompanied by their own guards—at the mayor’s command, no doubt—he was more at ease.

Until he noticed the lingering looks.

Hushed laughs and whispers, weaving through his ears.

The notice sent a prickle down his spine. True, he looked every bit a fool waiting at the stairs, but that didn’t seem scandalous enough for how everyone observed him. One girl had been whispering furtively to a friend when she stumbled at the foot of the stairs,

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