The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 42

With a burst of power, the room turned upside down as every light was extinguished. Between the whistling wind and the screams from the world above, distant voices grew in my ears, like the rumblings of an incoming storm. I realized I was on the floor again, Eric and Lana's soft groans anchoring me to reality, and I felt my way through the darkness. An extinguished candle to my left. Damp cement to my right. But not from water. From blood.

Dad.

"Eric," I said in a low voice. "Eric, are you okay?" My breath halted when I felt wetness at the crown of Dad's head. "We need to get you guys out of here. To the hospital."

But how?

Asteria... don't do this, Roy begged. Just like the voices, he sounded continents away. Just hang on... a little bit longer... please...

You need to protect them, I replied. In the pitch-black basement, the Dark Man's fingers brushed my cheek. Help them get out of here.

Tears stung my eyes. I reached across the floor, my energy waning quickly, for something, anything that could buy them more time. Roy's anguish ached through me.

I need to protect you, sweetheart.

The smoothness of the floor gave way to the jagged edges of my weapon, and I caught it between my fingers just as the Dark Man's invisible shadows tugged me to my feet, the dizziness punching me between the eyes, my mind whirling with it.

"They need medical attention," I said to the Dark Man, just as I said to Roy, I love you, I love you, I love you. "I won't fight you if you just let them go."

Behind me, Roy's presence wavered in the air, and he slid his fingers through mine. I squeezed his hand, overwhelmed with grief and love and pain, his adoration and pride warming the cold of my skin. It wrapped around my bones and filled my soul. I didn't know why fate chose for us to meet this way. I wished we had more time. Maybe somewhere in another life, we would. But no matter what happened, I was thankful that this life gave me some of it.

Time was running out. "I'm not going anywhere," I assured the Dark Man.

Outside the small block windows of the basement, police cruiser lights flashed red and blue, illuminating the basement. The Dark Man shifted from his spot behind my father, and slowly, the black figure melted into the white-faced man in the cemetery and at the pool. Those rows of razor-sharp teeth reflected the lights, and his obsidian eyes trapped my gaze, searching for a lie.

There was none. And as the cruiser lights multiplied, he said, They can go.

"Lana," I breathed. "Eric. Get out. Get my dad and get out."

"But—" Eric protested.

"Get the fuck out of here!"

No arguments. No last words. Nothing. Only the sound of their labored breathing and pan-filled whimpers as they limped slowly, slowly, slowly up the stairs. It wasn't until I heard Mom's voice that I breathed. And then, there was nothing again.

This was it.

I closed my eyes and let the tension in the air press against me from every direction.

All it takes is a blade to the throat, The Dark Man instructed carefully. You won't feel a thing.

Lana's ceremonial knife was heavy in my hand. I imagined the small fireflies summoned by the ritual exploding out of its gray blade and pinning him to the floor. Behind me, I felt Roy's frustration, and then desperation, as he roared words I couldn't quite hear through the pounding in my heart.