Ethereal

16 - Rabbit Hole

Just like on the night of my arrival, we were gathered in the living room, on the cusp of another question-and-answer session. And, just like on the night of my arrival, I was petrified.

Holding back that storm of panic was like trying to keep fire from catching; any attempt to contain it would burn, but to turn my back was to let it consume me.

Sat on the armchair by the fireplace, in the furthest possible corner from where the others were gathered on one of the sofas, I hugged my knees to my chest. I stared at them in silent horror; rigid, with ice sliding down my spine and sending shivers coursing through me. They'd coaxed me in here under the pretence of answering my questions and explaining the rogue situation in its entirety, but that didn't mean I trusted them. The only reason I'd agreed to come back inside was because of Logan's offer. The rain and icy wind had helped a little, too. There was nothing worse than being soaking and freezing and terrified, knowing that if you tried to run, your already shitty situation would get even worse.

They have a basement that they can lock— a nagging thought twisted and curled in on itself like a leaf ablaze. If I tried to run, what's to stop them from throwing me down there? And I was still waiting for the syringe to make its grand entrance.

I definitely didn't want to be anywhere near them, right now. I wanted this conversation to be through a closed door— or, better yet, via phone as I got the fuck away from this place and these people. But no. They wanted to keep me in their sights in case I bolted. Or fainted. Or did something stupid. All of which I was very, very tempted to do. And yet, some part of me kept that inferno at bay. Just barely.

The tears had dried up, but I was still terrified, trying to think clearly enough to figure out a way to escape if Logan didn't keep his word. And why would he? I was right where he wanted me once again.

I was shivering and soaking; ice settled deep in my bones even as the flames of panic licked and hissed at my fraying thoughts. After Logan's final plea, I'd stayed out on the porch as long as I could. Sat pressed against the railing. Sobbing in defeat, and terror, and frustration, with thunder and lightning flashing and crackling across the sky.

Please, Logan had said gently when I finally got the tears under control. Just let us explain. That's all I'm asking.

Idiot. I was a self-destructive idiot for walking back into this place when I was so, so close to getting out. But I needed answers, and I had no car keys— my choice was obvious, even if walking back into this house felt like walking through the gates of hell.

Nox sat on Olivia's lap, cleaning herself in a very cat-like manner, no sign of the savagery she'd shown earlier when she ripped that rogue's face up.

I shuddered, my gaze flickering briefly — almost instinctively — to Dominic. There was something about him, as he gazed at me in concern, that dulled the panic and doused the flames.

He looked almost as uncomfortable as I did, like he could feel my panic and didn't know what to say or do to lessen it. Maybe his discomfort had something to do with the fact he was sat on the floor in between Olivia and Alarik, and his head was way too close to the cat that supposedly hated him. The same cat that had scratched up the eyes of that rogue and potentially blinded him.

Whilst the others were sat upright and rather rigid, though nowhere near the stony state of fear I was trapped in, Alarik was reclined leisurely, resting his elbow on the armrest and pressing his finger to his temple and his thumb to his jaw. He stared at me with mild intrigue, and his posture and expression had all the grace of a king on a throne. His head was tilted slightly, and though he was looking at me, I got the distinct impression his focus was divided between me and the broken front door. Just in case.