Undertow (Whyborne & Griffin #8.5)

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Stay away from that thing!”

I fought him, striking him about the head with my free hand. “Let me go; let me go.” I had to get to Persephone, had to help her. She was hurt and bleeding, and Oliver had shot her, and oh God this couldn’t be happening.

“Stop,” he ordered. When I continued to struggle, he struck me on the side of the head with the heavy butt of the gun.

Pain exploded through my skull, and stars flashed in my vision. I sagged, dazed, and he began to drag me stumbling down the sidewalk. I tried to turn and catch another glimpse of Persephone. Her side moved—didn’t it? Or was my blurred vision tricking me?

Dizziness overwhelmed me, the world spinning like a merry-go-round. I went to my knees, barely conscious of my dress ripping.

“I don’t know what you were doing in that creature’s company, but I will find out.” He tugged on my arm, sending a bolt of pain through my shoulder. “Get up.”

“I can’t.” Tears slicked my face. Everything seemed strangely distant, either because of my head wound or the shock of what had happened. “Why? Why did you do that? You hurt her, hurt my friend!”

“Those things don’t have friends, you little fool.” I couldn’t make out his face through my tears, but his voice was implacable. “I killed a monster. And in doing so, I saved you.”

“Saved me?” I would have laughed if I could.

“Yes.” He hauled on my arm again. “You’ve been tricked, somehow. That’s the only explanation. But I’ll show you the truth, whether you want me to or not.”

I wanted to scream again, and pray help came for me. But if the police answered, would they side with Oliver or with Persephone?

It wasn’t even a question. They’d believe Oliver when he said I was hysterical after being attacked by an inhuman creature. They’d realize Persephone was still alive and kill her right in front of me.

Making a fuss would only endanger Persephone. And the longer we lingered here, the more likely it was Oliver would realize Persephone was still breathing.

Was she still breathing?

I didn’t know, and couldn’t look. If she was still alive, I couldn’t risk drawing Oliver’s attention to her.

I forced myself to my feet, fighting off a wave of nausea as I did so.

“Thank you,” he said. “I must say, it was a bit of a shock, seeing you speaking with one of them. But you don’t understand, that’s all. You will when I explain.”

I didn’t reply, only let him drag me along. Either shock or concussion stole moments of time from me, and the unreality of the thick fog helped nothing. It wasn’t until we stood beneath the unlit marquee that I realized where he’d been so bent on taking me.

The Undertow.

*

“You must have a great many questions,” Oliver said as he entered the green room. “Of course, so do I.”

He’d dragged me into the theater and backstage, where he’d removed my coat—and with it, the summoning stone and knife in my pockets. Then he’d locked me in the green room.

Exhaustion, my head wound, and despair did their part. I collapsed to the couch sitting along one wall and lost consciousness, for how long I didn’t know. The old stones of the original church formed the back wall of the green room, and no windows opened to the outside. It might still be night, or after dawn, or even the middle of the day for all I knew.

Was Persephone safe? In pain? Had she made it to the river, to the ocean, to her people?

Was she even still alive?

If I thought too long about the latter possibility, I’d be reduced to a sobbing mess. Later there would be time for tears, but for now, I had to think clearly if I was to have any hope of leaving the Undertow alive.

I sat up and eyed Oliver warily. He grabbed one of the chairs and dragged it closer to the couch, before seating himself. “I thought you were still the sweet, innocent girl I always knew. And yet here I find you, consorting with a ketoi.” His face twisted with revulsion. “How did you learn about them? Did that abomination Dr. Whyborne lead you astray with false promises?”

Oliver knew about the ketoi. Was he a part of the cult?

My heart sank. We’d been friends most of my life, and yes, we’d drifted apart. But none of his letters had ever led me to believe he’d changed to such an extent.

Then again, he must be thinking the same thing about me right now.

My head ached fiercely, and I wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the couch. To sleep, and then wake and find it was all a dream. But it wasn’t, so I had to decide just how much of the truth to give him. “She—the ketoi—saved my life,” I said, which was close to the truth. Persephone would surely have killed the rat creature to keep it from me, if the cat hadn’t gotten it first. “I owe her.”

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