Taken by storm(68)

I’d lose him and lose that much more of myself.

I felt Sora approach before I saw her. Her dark hair was pulled into a low, loose ponytail. She was wearing a black tank top and jeans. Her feet were bare.

Without my having to ask it of them, Lake and Caroline fell back. I was standing on one side of the border, Sora was standing on the other. For the longest time, we looked at each other, neither one of us speaking.

“Tell Devon,” Sora said finally, “that he’s the only thing I ever did right.”

I fought the urge to hunch over, to weather the words like an actual blow, because Devon would never get to hear them for himself; because one of the last things his mother would ever hear him say was a complaint that they’d even had to ride in the same car.

“He’s strong, and he’s smart, and I know that he is going to do great things.” A soft, sad smile worked its way onto Sora’s thin lips. “He’ll do what has to be done in a way that I never could.”

I wondered if she was talking about her failure to kill her twin, or about Shay. I wondered if it even mattered, when death was just around the bend.

“I’ll tell him,” I said, my own voice shaking. Sora reached across the border and caught me by the chin. She angled my face upward, my eyes toward hers.

“You’re it for him,” she told me. “You always have been.”

I didn’t pull out of her grasp. I felt it, all the way to my toes.

“Hurting you,” she said, after a moment’s pause, “hurt me.”

Those words nearly undid me—because she’d never acknowledged what had passed between us, never given any hint that ripping my world apart had been anything more than a chore.

“I want you to promise me something.” Sora reached back and pulled her ponytail over to one side, baring her neck on the other. The knife in my hand felt heavy.

Too heavy.

“What?” I asked, my mouth cotton dry, my palms sweating.

“Don’t let things end between you and Callum the way they’re ending for Devon and me. Whatever Callum does, whatever he sees or doesn’t see, says or doesn’t say, however the next year plays out”—she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort—“trust that he has his reasons, and that you matter.”

She looked over my shoulder, at the setting sun.

“You’ve always mattered.”

To Callum? To her? To Devon? She didn’t elaborate. Instead, she reached down and took the knife from my right hand and placed it in my left.

“Start with a gun.”

A moment later, I had one in my hand. Was it hers? Mine? I wasn’t sure. I felt like I was moving through a fog. Sora wrapped her hand around mine and brought the gun to rest on the side of her head, where neck met skull. She angled the barrel upward.

“Put a bullet here,” she said, and then she nodded to the knife. “Then cut out my heart.”

My hand shook. My eyes stung with tears. I tried to blink them away, but they built behind my eyelids until I couldn’t see—I couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see her waiting, ready and willing to die.

“You can do this,” Sora whispered. “You have to.”

I hurt for Dev. I hurt for me. I hurt, and I hurt, and I hurt—and I had to kill her.

“Bryn.” The voice came from behind me, but I didn’t recognize it. Chase? Griffin? Jed?

I didn’t know. I didn’t care, because I was standing there with a gun, and Sora was waiting. The trigger was cool against my finger. My injured shoulder was screaming with the effort it took to hold the gun.

Do it, I thought.

“He’s back, Bryn. He’s coming.”

So the voice was Griffin’s, then. There was tension in it, and exhaustion. The monster was here and ready to play. Maddy’s distraction had only worked so long.

Do it.

“Bryn.” Sora’s voice was gentle, but unwavering. If I didn’t kill her, she’d take care of the job herself, and I owed her more than that.

I owed her this.

“Okay,” I said, a sob caught in my throat. “Okay.”

Beside me, Griff stepped into view, a visual reminder that we were running out of time, a ghostly countdown clock to the next attack. He trembled. His eyes took on an odd, otherworldly light.

“I’m losing it,” he said. “The pressure—it’s pulling me—he’s pushing me—”

Lake stepped into my peripheral vision, right next to Griff. I began counting down in my head.

Three, I thought, training my eyes back on Sora’s.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Lake said from beside me, her words aimed at Griffin, not me.