Soul Oath (Everlast #2)

I had trouble sleeping that night because every goddamn muscle in my body hurt. When I finally fell asleep, images of Nicole, Mom, Dad, Teddie, Tommy, and Troy burning invaded my mind.

Nicole reached to me with her bony fingers. “Help,” she croaked. Her eyes dulled, the skin on her face darkened until it became gray, then crumbled to dust, and she was gone with the wind.

Heart racing and shaking, I sat up on my bed, fully awake.

I tried, but it was impossible to go back to sleep. I felt restless, as if I could run a marathon, as if I should run a marathon to burn all my energy, to burn all my guilt.

I threw the covers away, put on jeans and a loose sweater over my sleeping shorts and tee, added another pair of thick socks to my cold feet, and sauntered out of my room.

At first I walked aimlessly. I had no idea where to go, just that I wanted to keep moving and exploring, occupying my mind so it wouldn’t return to the nightmare.

I turned a corner and walked by Morgan’s room. Light seeped from the open crack. Smiling, I was about to knock and pull the door fully open when I saw Morgan knelt in the middle of the room, the circle with the symbols drawn on the floor around him. By the way he was chanting, he seemed to be performing a ritual. He had his back to me, but his arms were tight around his chest, as if he was holding something there, something dear to him.

Curiosity swelled in me, but I knew better than to interrupt a ritual. He was probably praying for the gods—the ones here and the ones that had gone into hiding after Imha took over.

Thinking maybe I should ask him to let me participate sometime in one of these rituals—I could use some praying—I tiptoed away from Morgan’s room.

My stomach growled. A healthy snack might be a good idea. Perhaps I would be able to go back to bed once my belly was full.

The cafeteria looked like a tiny version of a school lunchroom. A narrow room with two long tables and benches, white walls, a bar on one of them, and the kitchen behind it. However, there was no lunch lady. We had to walk around the bar and prepare our own food.

I entered the cafeteria and stopped. The kitchen’s lights were on.

“Hello?” I called.

Two seconds later, Victor peered out from the window connecting the bar to the kitchen.

“Hey.” He disappeared behind the wall again. “I’m making mochaccino. Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

Again his pretty head peeked through the window. “No?”

I shook my head.

With a frown, he went back to his business. I sighed and joined him in the kitchen.

“I prefer black coffee,” I said, opening the fridge. “But it wouldn’t be wise to drink it in the middle of the night since I hope to go back to bed in a few.”

He picked up his mug from the counter and looked at me. “Oh. I didn’t know you liked black coffee.”

For eleven months, I had liked mochaccino. But after knowing of Ceris’s influence on my life, I thought it was best I stayed away from it.

I grabbed cheese, ham, lettuce, tomato, and mayo from the fridge, bread and a plate from one of the cabinets, and knife from one of the drawers, then set everything on the counter on the other side of the kitchen to work on making my sandwich—all the while aware Victor’s eyes were on me.

“How are you?” he asked.

Still in pain. Frustrated. Hurt. Heartbroken. Disappointed. Did I mention hurt?

“I’m okay,” I muttered.

I finished preparing my snack, then returned the items to the fridge and washed the knife, all in silence. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to him. Sometimes I thought I really had nothing to talk to him about. Why pretend to have nice conversations?

I picked up my plate with my sandwich, grabbed a bottle of water, and went back to the cafeteria. I sat down on a bench, and Victor emerged from the kitchen, his mug in hand.

Determined to keep my cool, I bit into my sandwich.

He sat down across the table from me. “How’s training going?”

Well, I might believe I had nothing to talk to him about, but I wasn’t about to be rude.

“It’s going well.” I stared at my plate. “Apparently I’m better at fighting than I thought I would be. That’s a nice surprise.”

He sighed. “I still think it’s dangerous.”

I pressed my lips together before a couple of nasty words flew out of them. He had no right to think anything about what I did or didn’t do.

To keep my mouth busy, I took a big bite of my sandwich, and Victor kept staring at me. It was making me incredibly uncomfortable. Why did he have to look at me like that? His wife wouldn’t like it.

I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I swallowed and blurted out. “How are things with Ceris?”

His eyes widened. “I never thought you would want to know about that.”

“Well, not really. I’m just making conversation.”

He sipped from his mug before answering. “Since you asked, things are complicated.”

Shit, I didn’t think he would actually answer. “Complicated might not be that bad, right? I mean, you two have been together forever. Things will work out, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Is it me, or do you sound hopeful that Ceris and I will work things out?”

“I read one of Morgan’s books the other day. It said something about Ceris being your strength. Without her love, your balance won’t be the same and the creed will crumble.” I watched him as his gaze flickered to his mug and back to me, probably a bit embarrassed. “So, even if I wanted to, there’s no chance. You two are meant to be together. Forever.”

“Even if you wanted to? You don’t—?”

“Victor, I told you. I know Ceris created my feelings for you. And yours too. There wouldn’t be anything if Ceris hadn’t put it there.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“No, I can’t. But I think I’m right.”

“Nadine, I—”

“Please. Just let this go. It’s easier this way.” I held his gaze, hoping he saw in my eyes the determination I wanted to have, the determination I wanted to feel. Another topic I had read in the books came to mind, and I thought it would be a nice icebreaker. “I was planning on asking this during the next meeting, when Ceris is back, but I’m curious. In that same book, I read that this isn’t the first time Imha has brought chaos to the world.”

“True.”

“How did you defeat her, or control her, before?”

“Well, for one, Mitrus and I were gods, with our full power. It was easier to overpower her when all of us were together and in full force. Second, Imha never did anything this big. She had never killed deities before, and she had never messed with the entire world at once. Some of her mischiefs are what humans call the Ten Plagues of Egypt, the Black Death, the eruption of Vesuvius, and any major earthquake in populated areas. But you see, always within an area.”

“The Black Death could have spread to the entire world.”

“It could and I think she was expecting that, but thankfully it didn’t.” He swirled his mug, looking at it as the liquid splashed side to side, but not really seeing it. “Anyway, we’re in a different situation this time.”

Not exactly what I was hoping to hear, but it made sense.

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