To Mend a Heart (Born in Darkness, Book 1)

Chapter Thirty

Connor had decided to wait a few hours before returning to his sister's room, realizing that she would need some time to adjust.  That she didn't know who he was scared him; that she was so severely scarred scared him even more.  And as much as he wanted to avenge her pain and help her remember him, he knew it wouldn't be fair to her.  Not after she had just escaped her tormentors.  He needed to be patient with her.  Thankfully, he'd had five hundred years to hone his patience.

It was midafternoon when the hybrid lightly rapped her door.  He waited, but there was no answer.  Sighing, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door.  The room was dark, probably a result of her power, but he didn't need much light to see, so he quietly stepped inside.

Evelyn—Ebony, he corrected himself—was asleep in the bed, her pet raven asleep on a pillow beside her.  Her hair and skin were dirt-free and her wings were gone; he figured they were retractable, like his claws and fangs.  Her scars were more visible now that her skin was clean.  And he noticed the dome covering the food platter.

She was moaning and twitching in her sleep, as if from a bad dream.  His confirmation was the fear he sensed from her.  The same fear he'd sensed when he'd found her in that warehouse.

He reached the bed with lightning speed and gently nudged her bony shoulder.  "Ebony.  Ebony, wake up."

She did not awaken, but moaned and writhed more violently, her back arching as if from serious pain.

"No," she mumbled.  "No . . . please . . . stop . . ."

The shadows throughout the room quivered in response to her fear.  Growing unsettled himself, Connor nudged her shoulder again.

"Ebony, wake up.  It's just a nightmare."

A few more writhes, a few more shakes, and then she woke up screaming, a black blade forming in her hand as she attacked him, her eyes wild and terrified as she stabbed the hybrid's shoulder.

He yelled reflexively, his heart pounding, then backed away from the bed and pulled the blade from his flesh.  It vanished in the darkness as soon as he dropped it.  His wound began healing on its own, but now Ebony was staring at him with a different kind of fear, her hands over her mouth as tears fell from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.  "I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to.  I'm sorry."

Sensing her distress, Connor straightened and smiled reassuringly, ignoring the pain of his mending wound.  "It's okay.  I'm already healing."

That didn't seem to reassure her at all.  Frowning, he stepped up to her, his good hand extended, but she shied away from him.

"It's all right, Ebony.  You're not in any trouble."

"But I could have killed you."

He gave her a small smirk.  "I'm not that easy to kill."

She sniffed and sniveled a bit.  "You're . . . you're not mad at me?"

He blinked, genuinely shocked.  "Why would I be mad?  It was clearly an accident."

"I . . ."

He could see his sister now in her: timid and apologetic when her powers brought harm to others.  He took comfort in knowing that at least part of the girl he remembered wasn't gone completely.

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed, twisting his torso to face her.  "You were having a nightmare and acted instinctively when you woke up.  I used to do the same thing when my nightmares were that bad."