Daughter of Nyx (Book Four)

Chapter Fourteen

Another sting above her heart. That was twice he got hit.

She growled as she turned the corner into the foyer.

Once again, she heard her name. But Draven made her strong and they couldn't catch her. Couldn't stop her from saving her creator.

Didn't they know?

Couldn't they see?

He was going to die.

Grinding her teeth, the rays of light coming in on either side of the door doing little to warn her of the danger, thinking only to save the one that made her, she flung open the door to hell.

Late afternoon light washed over her, setting her on fire and she screamed, so loud, so long, unable to move from the agony. Her skin blistered then cracked and darkness closed around her.

Her cries came from swollen and bleeding lips, but it wasn't for her that she was weeping.

"Draven," she was finally able to say as Elliot opened the blanket he had used to cover her.

"Fuck him," Caleb said as Elliot tore into his wrist, pushing it toward her. "You damn near killed yourself."

"He's—" The pain of her burns welled and she groaned.

Elliot held Caleb's wound against her lips and she swallowed. After a moment, the agony lessened to where she could take a breath.

"Burns from the sun don't heal instantly," Elliot said. "Most likely you will still have them upon rising tomorrow."

"Drink more, damn it," Caleb said.

"You don't understand," she said, pushing Elliot away. "We have to go to him. I have to go to him."

"I understand that that fucking link is hurting you."

They didn't. They couldn't know. It wasn't maker. It wasn't fledgling. She loved him and he was hurt.

Clenching her jaw, Chevonne got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her. It was only then that she realized she was back in her bedroom.

"It's not that, Caleb. The Sons. They are hurting him."

As realization hit them, there was a slight burst of warmth before all traces of her maker disappeared from her heart.

"No," she whispered, pressing her hand against the peeling flesh of her chest. "Please God, no." Her hand shook, tremors that spread throughout her. "No!"

"Chevonne..."

She looked at Elliot and whatever he found in her eyes silenced him.

"He can't be gone, Elliot. I didn't tell him." She bit her knuckle, trying to hold back the screams that fought for freedom. "I didn't tell him. He can't—" She squeezed her eyes shut against the welling of red tears.

"Jaylen, you and Trey stay with her, keep her from going after him. The rest of you, you know what to do. I hope you have replenished the daytime attire. We leave in three minutes."

Opening her eyes, she looked at Elliot. "No, I'm going. You can't make me stay here."

"You don't have the type of clothing we do. And I'm not going to take you where they are, Chevonne."

"Don't keep me from him, Elliot. I'm begging now. Please. If he still... I can help him."

"Help him?" Caleb all but shouted. "You are a french fry, sweetheart. You can't help anyone in your shape."

"Wrap me in blankets. Leave me in the car. The sun will be down soon. They don't know that I know they are there."

Elliot ran his hand through his hair. "Chevonne..."