Darkness Fades

In the corner of the room is a stack of crates, and on top of it, my knife is lying next to the papers I was carrying. I gradually get to me feet, scanning the room as I carefully make my way over to it.

I need to get out of here, find Aiden in case I do end up changing and make sure he understands that he needs to kill me before I do, and get the papers back to Mathew. Although, if his attitude is the same, I have no idea how I’m going to get him to agree to this and trust him to do it.

When I reach the crate, I crouch down to gather my things, my muscles aching in protest. I get the knife in my hand when I notice movement from the other side. I quickly stand back up and step back, trying to listen for the sound of a heartbeat, wishing I’d hear one because it’d make this so much easier, but deep down, knowing that’s not the case. The only noise that I can hear is labored breathing and I’m not sure what it belongs to.

Moving vigilantly around the crate with my knife in my hand, I peer down at the other side. The first thing that comes into view is a hand, but it’s not a human hand. It’s starting to rot, flesh peeling away. It looks like it belongs to someone who is in the process of turning.

I continue to round to the other side, but then the hand rapidly pulls out of my sight as someone scurries farther behind it. I detect that it’s a human form, though.

“Back off, Kayla. It is not safe… I’m not safe.” His voice is rough and scratchy.

“Aiden?”

There’s no response, but it has to be him. It makes no sense, though, because I’m not changing and I was bitten, too. I glance down at my arms, turning them over, my skin still as pale and smooth. I’m not changing yet, but he is. Why? I thought we were the same.

I look around at the unfamiliar room again. Why did he bring me here instead of taking me out of the colony where we’d be safer? Or to the desert?

“Did you bring me here?” I ask, stepping around the crate, wondering if maybe there’s someone else around. “Did you save me from that monster?”

I take a few more steps towards the crate, listening to his labored breathing. His arms come into view, but the flesh is strange looking, like it’s trying to melt. “Maybe if we hurry we can go back to the town and get help.”

“I can’t,” he croaks. “I can’t go anywhere just yet.”

“We have to,” I say, swallowing hard, not sure if I want to take the last few steps to see him changing. “If you’re changing… if we both change… we have to make sure the papers get back to the colony.”

“No,” he says almost sharply.

Frustrated, I turn for the door, ready to leave, knowing that I might be running out of time… I might have to run the entire way there.

As I’m getting ready to exit, the memory of Sylas replays in my mind. I remember him begging me not to let him turn; pleading with me to end him before he changed. Guilt spreads through me and I pause in front of the door. I can’t just leave him here like this, let him change into one of those horrible creatures, even if he’s done things I don’t like and made me mad. He still deserves not to go down that way.

I set my papers down on the floor and turn around. I slowly walk back towards the crate, worried about what I’ll say, what he’ll say to me with what I’m about to do. Then the crates abruptly shift slowly and he pushes himself to his feet, standing tall with his back towards me, like he knows what I’m about to do. He doesn’t have a shirt on and his dark hair is matted to the back of his head.

I carefully walk up behind him, wondering if he knows, if he understands. I almost back out; however, I swallow my feelings as I take in the sight of his skin that hangs loosely from his body with open wounds which are bleeding.

Elevating the knife above my head, I aim it at his back, ready to plunge it deep into him, end him and help his suffering. But he spins around, his dark eyes focusing on the knife I hold in my hand. He looks scared. Before I can change my mind, I quickly thrust my arm downward towards him.

His eyes widen, his arm snaps up and he grabs hold of my wrist, stopping the knife just a fraction before it clips his skin.

“Kayla, stop.” He tightly grips my hand and I struggle, trying to break free, twisting my arm. “Kayla, look at me.”

I’m not sure what registers first. His command, the change in his voice, or the calm feeling being throw at me. I stop fighting and look up at him, meeting his gaze. I gasp when I see him and he lets me go. My hand falls to my side and the knife slips from my fingers, landing on the floor with a clink. It can’t be.

Yet the more I look at him, the more I know it’s true. The cold, dark eyes that are looking back at me don’t belong to Aiden, they belong to Sylas.

Chapter 16

It’s quiet for a while. Neither of us can speak. Or maybe he’s just waiting for me to say something, but I’ve lost my voice. He looks so different, still him—black hair, eyes like charcoal, a slight cocky expression—but beneath it is pain. Pain from his flesh rotting. He’s changing. Still?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he finally asks, stretching out his long legs.

Say what? I’m too speechless to speak. “Why… I mean how are you changing, just now… when I saw you last, you were so close and that was a while ago?”

He shrugs nonchalantly but there’s emotion in his eyes, though I can’t tell exactly what. “I did turn. I turned into one of those horrible monsters. It was like being stuck in a bad dream…” His forehead creases in puzzlement as his head cocks to the side. “Until I bit you.”

“What? You changed and then you changed back?” I ask, shocked, wanting to pick up my knife so I can maybe be comforted by this lost, helpless feeling inside me; one I’ve never felt before. “I don’t understand, Sylas. Aren’t the effects of the bite permanent?”

He sighs tiredly then steps backward to the crate and hoists himself up, his arms wobbling, then he sits on it with his bare feet hanging over it. “Oh, the effects were permanent. Well, at least they were supposed to be. But when I bit you, I could feel something in me start to change. The instant my teeth sunk into your skin, something ignited inside me and I knew I had to stop hurting you, like it was an instinct.”

“So, you bit me?”

He shrugs again, but there’s a hungry look in his eye that make my skin feel hot. “Well, do you really blame me?”

I try my best to shake it off, but the fact that he’s sitting here, not hurt and almost not an abomination, is making it hard not to want to do anything except hug him and tell him that I’m sorry for leaving him. “So do you think my bite cured you?”