by Kayla Krantz
She swallowed once, feeling a trill of nausea in her stomach, that she managed to ignore as he forced her feet to move. For a while, Luna contented herself with wandering the cabin, studying details she hadn’t noticed during her previous walk. It was a distraction for a while at least as she pondered the idea of how the place originally crafted from her nightmares now brought her peace.
Chance sat in the front room, shining his dagger while listening to a small radio placed beside him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Occasionally, he’d glance up at her as she emerged at the end of the hallway, his face a mixture of understanding and concern, but he never tried to force those emotions at her. Maybe because he didn’t fully understand himself. Luna hardly noticed as she turned to go back the way she had come down the shadowy hallway. She would deal with him later.
She studied the number of doors, remembering how many of them had been just storage rooms. Before that she had only known where two of the rooms led—the closet Max had been in and the bedroom she had been in.
Luna counted the doors, skimming past the ones she had already checked and decided to move to the ones she hadn’t. The first knob she touched didn’t move under her grasp, and she pulled it harder, the metal rattling beneath her hand. Frowning, she leaned forward to press her ear to the wood of the door, seeing what she could hear inside, if anything at all.
She tried pushing against the door again, her fist hitting the door with a thump. At the sound, Chance jumped up from his seat and rushed to find her. His massive frame blocked the light as he entered the hallway, and as soon as he saw her position, he wriggled between her and the door, keeping his back pressed firmly to the wall as he faced her.
Luna raised an eyebrow, staring him down. “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step back before folding her arms across her chest.
“Take it from me, there are some parts of this cabin you’re better off not seeing,” he admitted with a guilty smile on his face.
Luna felt her face blanch, and on instinct, she reached out again, testing the knob one more time. It didn’t budge, and Chance scooted his hip sideways, gently knocking her hand away.
“You mean there’s…” Luna held a hand over her mouth, picturing the horrors the room could be holding—a human butcher shop like something straight out of a movie.
Chance didn’t answer right away. Slowly, he took a step away from the door, closing the distance between them, and set his hand on her shoulder. In a gesture she almost missed, he bobbed his head and turned them away from the door. With gentle steps he led her back out to the front room.
His gestures were kind, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from his hands. It was too easy to imagine them around someone’s throat, his long bony fingers squeezing the life right out of them. “There isn’t a…I mean, I thought…thought you did all your business next door,” she murmured.
“In the interest of staying honest with each other, I don’t have one spot where I go. It’s…more of a whenever the mood strikes type thing, so that being said, I like to do some of my…business…here too.”
Luna stopped walking, chills running through her to erupt goosebumps over the skin on her arms. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the images her mind created again. One time in high school, she had seen a PETA protest video about the way that cows were executed in butcher shops. In the moment, her mind substituted the cows for young girls and the butchers for Chance. It was all so easy to imagine that she couldn’t believe there was ever a time that she doubted such images.
“I’m that frightening, huh?” Chance teased, using his palms to rub away the bumps on her skin.
Luna tilted her head to the side but didn’t speak as she looked at him.
“There’s judgement in your eyes,” he noted, dropping his hands off her arms as if she had insulted him.
Luna didn’t hesitate to speak that time. “Who are they?”
Chance blinked. “Who?”
“The people you kill.”
Chance arched a golden eyebrow. “Do you really want to go poking around that department again, love? When I gave you answers before, you didn’t want to hear it.”
She didn’t. She really didn’t, but at the same time, she had to know everything if she ever hoped to settle—comfortably—into her new life…or at least know the best way to escape to a better one. “No…but I-I just need to know.”
“They’re no one you care about, if that makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t.”
Chance smirked and ran a hand through his hair. “All right. If you must know, occasionally strangers find their way to this Realm, other people who are between dimensions.”
“That’s possible?”
Chance bobbed his head. “It’s not as if this place comes with directions. People get lost all the time. Sometimes, they don’t even know they’re dead.”
“Your first instinct is to kill them?” Luna asked, narrowing her eyes with disgust.
“Would you rather I hunt down the people I’ve already killed?” he inquired, cocking his head to the side with a challenge in his eyes.
Luna winced and forced out a choked, “No.” She swallowed and hesitantly added, “I wish you didn’t have to kill anyone at all.”
Chance sighed. “If only things were that simple.”
Luna dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Look, you asked, all right? I warned you that you wouldn’t like the answer.”
“Next time I’ll listen,” Luna replied, sinking into the chair beside her. It seemed as if every time Chance talked, she didn’t like what he had to say. Why do I keep pushing him?
Chance eyed her, hip resting against the edge of the table. He folded his arms as the slightest hint of a frown appeared.
“What?” she questioned, peeking up at him through her long dark hair.
“You seem…sad,” he observed.
“Did you really expect me to be happy here?” she asked.
Chance reached up to scratch his ear, his poker face strong. “No, I didn’t. But it seems like more than that. You seem…what’s the word I’m looking for? Lost.”
“You said you went through the same when you came back.”
He bobbed his head. “I did.”
“Well, then you should understand what I’m going through. I’m not lost so much as confused. Everything is upside down, and I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself anymore,” she admitted, twining her fingers together.
“What did you enjoy when you were alive?” he asked, plopping down into the seat beside her.
Luna shrugged and looked up at him. “I spent so much of my life studying that I never really made time for hobbies. I thought one day I’d have it all, but until that day…nothing seemed important.”
“Now that’s depressing,” Chance said. “Doesn’t sound like much of a life.”
That’s because it wasn’t, she thought.
“Think of it this way, you now have all the time in the world to figure it out,” Chance said, voice warm, encouraging.
Luna blew out a breath of air, parting her dark hair from her eyes. His words were supposed to be uplifting, but they only succeeded in making her feel worse.
“You’ll come to learn that death in Purgatory is no different than life had been—save the responsibilities.”
Luna pushed her lips together. “So, what’s the point? If there’s no reason to go on, then why bother? Why not try to see if we can die again?”
Chance shrugged. “It hasn’t seemed bad to me. Sure, I was lonely before, but you’re here now.”
Luna tried to offer him a smile, but she knew—before it even appeared—that it was weak.
Chance frowned again. “What is it?”
“It’s not the same. Nothing’s the same. You’re not my enemy anymore…they are. The people I love, the people who were an important part of my life.” She blinked her teary eyes. “How can you say it’s the same?”
/> Chance seemed lost for words. Out of all the terrible things he had done, tears were what made him uncomfortable. “I guess I didn’t think of it from your perspective. To me, things are the same as they’ve always been…except for your affection.” He swallowed hard as if he suddenly felt awkward…or sensed the mistruth of his own words.
She didn’t say anything, and the awkwardness faded.
“Like it or not, we’re together now.”
Luna sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her elbows on the table. Two emotions had spurred in her at once—pain and hope—and she no longer had an idea which one was right. We’re together now, the words echoed in her head like a horrible lullaby, and for all her wishing, she knew that they would always be there in the shadows of her mind, waiting to leap any time she thought otherwise. “Would you have any other ending?”
He smirked as he reached out a hand to clutch hers. “Nope.”
Chapter Sixteen
CHANCE SMILED TO himself as he stripped his shirt off and peered at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. A myriad of scars ran over his chest, his abdomen, and his arms—the marks left from his body smashing into the concrete the day he died. It was almost amazing that he had been put back together again, even with magic. He ran his fingers over a particularly deep purple line on the top of his arm, tracing it over his muscle to where it continued to his back.
Without meaning to, he thought of Cody, of Reese, of the Rosebone, and marveled at how all their magic had come to this conclusion. He didn’t like to depend on others, but as he stood there, staring at what had become of himself, he knew he couldn’t have pulled it off alone.
Then, his eyes traveled to his face. Beyond the scars, his usually pale skin had a bit of a rosy hue to it, and he narrowed his eyes in thought. He was a mess at this point so it was ironic that he had never looked so human before, and he guessed Luna was the reason behind it. She was the light to his darkness, the only one who could warm the freezing caverns of his heart and his mind, and it showed.
At the thought of the tiny girl, he left the bathroom, eager to see how she fared after the day she had weathered. It hurt him to see her so lost, so broken down. The thing he had always admired the most about her was her determination, her fire, but only a day of this place had made that disappear. Chance stepped lightly so that his footsteps wouldn’t make a sound as he reached the entrance to the bedroom. He peered inside to see her lying on the bed with her back to the door. Even though she hadn’t had many other choices as far as clothing was concerned, the sight of his shirt on her still gave him a deep feeling of satisfaction.
Chance slicked his hair back and made his way to the bed. Luna didn’t stir as he approached, and he relaxed at the thought that she was already asleep. He pulled Luna into his arms as he lie down beside her, the warmth of her body burning into his as he buried his face into her sweet-smelling hair, holding her as close to him as he could manage. Luna hummed in her throat, and Chance realized she was awake. He froze, embarrassed by his own open display of emotions.
“Feeling any better, love?” he asked, trying to cover up his own uncertainty.
A small sigh passed Luna’s lips. “Not really.”
She didn’t attempt to say more, and Chance frowned. If she wasn’t prompted, she wouldn’t say more. That was the problem with her. She would keep it all inside, every ounce of emotion until she exploded. “What’s wrong?” he prompted, trying to keep his tone light, understanding, though really, he was annoyed. She should want to talk to him, to open up and let him inside. That was what couples did, wasn’t it?
“I keep thinking about Asher,” she admitted.
Chance tensed despite himself. He knew thoughts of their son had bothered her earlier, but he had assumed Max’s betrayal would’ve been the issue at the front of her mind. She never ceases to surprise me. “Is that all?”
“How can you be so careless? That’s our child,” Luna said stiffening in his arms, her voice nearly seething.
“It’s not that I’m careless, love. I just try not to think about him any more than I have to because it only hurts to pick at that wound knowing it won’t heal.”
“It sounds the same. It sounds as if you’re already set to turn your back on him,” Luna said.
Chance shrugged. “I can’t help that we handle things differently.”
“There is a difference between handling something, and ignoring it completely,” she pointed out, glaring at him over her shoulder.
“I’m not ignoring it.”
“What have you done to get him back?” she demanded, pulling farther away to flop onto her back, her glare trained on his face the entire time.
“I’ve…I—” Chance had plenty of answers but putting it in a context she would understand, one that wouldn’t anger her, was nearly impossible.
“Thank you for proving my point,” she huffed. “We can’t just give up on him.”
“I’m not saying we give up! I just think we need a really good plan,” Chance said. For unknown reasons, his mind took him back to the night he had woken up in this Realm after his suicide. He remembered the blackness of the forest as he sat up, trying to screw up his eyes enough to see. He had held up one scarred arm and stared at all the pink lines, confused and unsure who he was. A smashed brain is good for that.
Uncertainly, he had gotten up and wandered through those trees, his memory slowly trickling back for all the miles that he walked. When his autopilot walk took him to the threshold of his cabin, the rest of the information filled in the blanks, and he had immediately turned around again in an attempt to make things right.
He had sought out Max, but the old shack was empty, and Chance had been forced to leave with his head down like a defeated animal, the feeling of being watched following him all the way back to the cabin.
“Right,” she murmured, shifting in his arms in an attempt to free herself.
Chance tightened his grip, not letting her move away farther than she already had. If she moved much more, she’d end up falling off the bed. “You have to understand it’s not as easy to get him back as you think. Even your few dream encounters should’ve showed you that they stick together, and unfortunately, there are more of them than us. They can play ‘pass along’ until the day after the world ends if they want.”
Luna pressed her lips together but said nothing. She hadn’t been in this Realm long, but it was enough for her to know that at least this time, Chance was telling the truth.
“We can’t just barge in guns blazing or else I would’ve done something by now,” Chance said, irritation flowing through his voice despite his attempts to stifle it. He could tell Luna thought he didn’t care for their child, and he hated that she still thought so little of him though he’d admit he deserved it.
“How could you have had the time when you’ve been so focused on me?” she murmured into the pillow so quietly that he wondered if she really wanted him to hear her say it.
“I’m good at multitasking.” Chance swiped her hair off her cheek, resting his chin gently on the side of her neck. “We’ll get him back somehow,” he promised, breathing into her ear.
“I hope so. He doesn’t belong out there, with them,” Luna said, voice quivering with an obvious effort to hold back her tears. “If they hate us as much as you say, that’ll rub off on him when he gets older.”
Chance frowned, wondering when she would realize it was pointless to keep her guard up and save her energy instead.
“We won’t accomplish anything crying about it,” he pointed out. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we can come up with some kind of game plan.”
“You promise?” Luna asked.
“Cross my heart,” Chance said. Because someone will die.
Luna nodded and rested her head against the pillow again, a sigh passing her lips as she relaxed in his grip. Chance stared at the back of her head, waiting for her to think of a new angle of the argument to bring to the light, but she didn’t, and against his b
etter judgement, he let himself relax.
“T-this is different,” Luna murmured.
Chance paused, and his lips parted as Luna glimpsed at him over her shoulder.
“I’m not used to this kind of contact,” she admitted, dropping her head back to the pillow to effectively break the gaze between them. “Not from you.”
Chance could’ve let himself be hurt by the comment, but he didn’t. He deflected it, smirked, and took his arm off of Luna to grab his dagger from the bedside table. Turning back to her, he held the cold blade to the side of her throat, feeling her stiffen. “What about this? Is this more your style? Does that make you more comfortable?” he asked, trailing her skin down to her collarbone with the blade.
“Comfortable? No. Familiar? Yes.”
Chance pulled the knife away, listening to the clatter as it landed back on the table, and used his free hand to stroke her dark hair, careful not to pull out any of the strands plastered to her face from her tears. “You might as well make an effort to get used to it. This is your life now.”
Chapter Seventeen
AMY SPENT A lot of time thinking about Luna’s mother, Rose, for the rest of the day. If they were to ever hope to find Luna’s sister, she was the only one who would know how. Thinking of the woman, however, sent a chill down Amy’s spine. After all, both her and Rose had died within feet of each other in the same gap of time. There was something to be said for that.
Ever since Amy had woken up in this place, she hadn’t seen Rose, and she was ashamed to admit that until that moment, she hadn’t even thought about her. As a Protector, Amy’s first responsibility should’ve been to seek her out and see how she was coping.
Better late than never, right? she told herself and stood to her feet.
When she exited the confines of her tiny cell, she didn’t know where to go from there. Amy knew very little about Luna’s mother. Just enough to make her sad for the woman. It was obvious she had lived a life of many regrets and hadn’t lived long enough to see her life without them.
