Malum part 2

“Stop it…” I warn, my eyes slamming shut.

I need Daemon. Why did I do this? The first thing I’m doing when I get back is taking him and I back to Perdita. It’s not bad there. At least I’ll be away from monsters that lurk in the dark.

“Say it, baby.”

“No!” I snap, my eyes slamming shut again.

“Why are you holding Daemon’s book?” Nate asks. Is he circling me? Is it just us here? Why is no one else speaking? I feel drops of water pelt down gently on my head through the rag.

“Because you told me to bring it!”

“Did you find what you needed?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No…”

“Say her name…” Nate mutters again.

“Nate, please,” I plead, my shoulders shaking. “I don’t want to. Don’t you understand?”

“I assure you, I do, but say her name. You never say her name out loud. Say it.”

“Bro…” Brantley’s voice cuts in, but he stops.

“Say it, Tillie!” Tears stream down my face, my knees weak. “She’s gone. You did what you could, this wasn’t your fault!”

“It was!” I snap, screaming at him. “It was my fault! I didn’t lock the door, I was the last person to see her, I took her to bed, I read her her last fucking book!” The sobs are unleashed, now my chest is jerking. I fall to my knees, curling over my thighs. “I killed her. I did it. It’s all my fault.”

Nate must drop opposite me because his face is directly in front of mine. “It’s not your fucking fault!”

Tears slip over my lips, their saltiness ru

“No, baby.” His hands come to my face through the rag. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you. No one blames you. The only person who blames you, is you—”

“—Daemon,” I whisper. “I have to make sure he understands. I don’t think he understands that I didn’t kill her, Nate.” The sobs take hold again, my throat swelling.

Nate yanks the hoodie off my head and rain falls onto my face. It’s dark, but there are two cars parked behind me with their headlights shining on us. The first thing I notice is Nate is on his knees in front of me, the second thing I notice is all of The Kings, Bishop included, in a half-circle behind Nate, and the third thing I notice is that behind Nate, is a gravestone. D A E M O N

My eyes go back to Nate. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

Nate licks his lips, his thumb pressing to mine. “Daemon understands, baby.”

“No—” I shake my head. “He’s different now. Lost. These nightmares—” I pause, my eyes going back to Nate. “Why are we here? This is where my nightmares are.”

Nate searches my eyes and I tilt my head to study him. “Daemon was never in that cell, baby.”

I rear back. “What? Yes, he was, and he’s been with me since. He’s in the room beside me at Brantley’s!”

Nate looks at me, his eyes softening for the first time in a long time. “He was never there. You created his existence as some sort of coping mechanism to deal with Micaela being dead. To deal with the loss, and the pain, the guilt. You grabbed onto the one person who always gave you a lifeline.”

“You…” I whisper, shaking my head. “This doesn’t make sense because he was there, Nate! He’s been there and now you’re telling me I’ve gone crazy?!” I shake my head again. “If that’s what I was doing, I would have grabbed on to you, Nate. Not Daemon.”

Nate’s jaw clenches, and then he presses his lips to mine. “No, baby. I couldn’t save you with this one.”

Tears pour out from me, my face falling. “I saw you both have a fight in front of me in Perdita!”

Nate licks his lips. “I’ve not spoken to him, babe. How could I?”

My shoulders slump, the tears free-falling. “I’ve gone crazy.”

“No,” Brantley murmurs from behind Nate. “You’re not crazy, little terror. You’re human. You reached for something that you knew would help you. Some take drugs, alcohol, sex.” He grins, kicking Nate. “You reached for love. That doesn’t make you crazy. That makes you human.”

Another round of tears come, but I end up choking on my sobs, falling forward and landing in Nate’s chest. “He’s really not alive?”

Nate shakes his head, kissing the top of my head. “No.”

I grip onto his soaked T-shirt, and we sit there for another twenty minutes in the pouring rain while I mourn my Thirteen crush. My crush who has been there for me more times than anyone ever has. Even dead, his spirit was an anchor for me.

I wipe my face with Nate’s shirt, finally leaning back and expecting The Kings to be gone, but they’re not. They’re still standing where I left them twenty minutes ago, drenched from the rain.

“Say her name, baby,” Nate whispers in my ear, kissing me gently.

“Micaela.”