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It takes every effort to hold back a warning. Intervening might shatter her mind, but allowing her to discover she’s free could start the healing process.
Wiping the blood on her gown, she swings her legs off the bed and stands on shaky feet.
My hands twitch out to steady her, but I force my arms to remain at my sides. This isn’t the first time she’s mistaken me for a hallucination. I’m only glad that she thinks I’m a trusted one.
Staring up at me with fierce determination, she says, “Let’s go.”
Without another word, she strides to the door. I step backward, not wanting to get in her way.
“Amethyst,” I say.
Her hand pauses at the door handle. “What?”
“Put on some slippers and a heavier robe.”
She turns around, her gaze following where I’m pointing toward a pair of thick-soled slippers and a plush robe hanging on a hook by the wall. Her eyes widen, as if she’s seeing them for the first time.
Nodding, she rushes over to the garments and slips them on. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “I can always rely on you to notice the little things. Are these hallways guarded?”
“No. You’re safe.” Her eyes narrow, so I add, “The guards are all outside, and I heard Isabel’s footsteps disappear down the hallway and through a door.”
The suspicion on her features melts into relief. Nodding to herself, she grips the robe’s neckline and heads toward the door. “Come on, then.”
I follow her out into the dimly lit hallway, our footsteps creaking on the hardwood floors. This safe house is a two-story residence nestled within a seven-acre lot on the outskirts of Beaumont City.
We’ve evacuated our underground hideouts until I can assess how much information Delta forced out of Amethyst. My operatives are scattered across the city, with only my sisters, Jynxson, and a small retinue of guards on the grounds.
Amethyst strides down the hallway, her head swiveling from side to side in a state of heightened vigilance. She descends the stairs and pauses at the oak front door.
“That’s probably alarmed,” she mutters, her gaze flicking to a security panel.
“Good call,” I murmur. “What should we do next?”
She points toward the kitchen. “We’ll need weapons in case we bump into our enemies.”
Amethyst moves through the kitchen, her fingers sliding over the quartz worktops. She searches through its oak drawers and cabinets until she finds one containing a collection of knives. After tucking several small ones into her robe pocket, she selects the largest weapon with the heaviest blade.
I watch in awe, wondering what the hell her time at the asylum has unlocked.
She opens the refrigerator, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of all the food. After cracking open a protein shake and draining it in a few hearty gulps, she grabs several small items and stuffs them into her pockets.
A creak coming from upstairs has her head snapping up. “What’s that?”
“The medic,” I whisper, hoping Isabel is still in her quarters. “She’s harmless.”
She closes the refrigerator door, scuttles across the room, and ducks behind the kitchen island.
My brows pinch, and I wonder if she’s hallucinating something new. I crouch at her side and whisper, “What’s happening?”
“This is a trick,” she hisses.
“Explain.”
“The drugs are wearing off. Everything hurts and you’re glitching.” She turns to me, her eyes watering. “Delta would never leave me alone in a house. What if this is another movie set?”
A knot twists in my gut, tightening with each trembling word. I want to hold her close and promise she’s safe, but this supposed hallucination of me is the only thing she trusts. Her confusion slices through my chest, leaving me raw and helpless, knowing it will take more than the truth to break through the barriers in her broken mind.
“You asked me earlier if I noticed anything while you were dissociating,” I whisper. “Do you remember being carried onto a boat and drugged?”
