Free Nikolai: A Dark Light Novella (Dark Light #2.5) by S.L. Jennings Page A

I’m not saying I’m ok with murder. I’m totally against it, actually. But what you did today wasn’t murder, it was redemption. It was justice. It was necessary.”
    We fall asleep side by side, like always, but with our hands clasped together. Funny how such a chaste gesture can be so profound, so deeply intimate. I’ve never felt closer to another soul, not even when I was buried inside them, breathing their life into mine. And I now that I’ve felt it, I never want to let it go. I never want to let her go.
     

     
    I feel Amelie jerk in the night, and her hand is squeezing mine with enough pressure to cut off circulation. My eyes snap open immediately and I am hovering over her, clutching her shoulders.
    “No, no, no,” she cries, large tears spilling down the sides of her face. Her closed eyelids flutter rapidly and she’s covered with sweat. “No, please, no. Please come back to me. Don’t leave me!”
    “Amelie,” I call out, shaking her gently. “Amelie, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
    “Oh God, no! Please! I’ll do anything…no, no, no!” Her body trembles uncontrollably, piquing my alarm. I have to do something. I have to help her.
    “Amelie! Amelie, listen to me. Wake up!” Panic growing in my chest, I sweep a hand over her forehead, a single finger doused in blue flames.
    Nothing.
    Fuck.
    Her body convulses even more, and I know this is more than a simple dream. I shake her harder, both hands now ignited. “Come on, Amelie! Wake up! Fucking wake up now!”
    Her body goes still and her whimpers cease. I don’t even think she’s breathing, though I can clearly hear the pounding of her heart. I hold onto that sliver of hope. She’s still with me.
    Just as my hand caresses her damp cheek, Amelie’s eyes snap open, her retinas as black as onyx. This isn’t magic. It’s not even natural. It’s evil.
    Before I can even think to react, she trains her black, sinister glare on me as she grabs my hand, squeezing it until I can feel my bones crack.
    “You will pay, demon. You will pay in blood,” a bone chilling voice spits. It’s not even remotely close to her harmonious tone. “They’re coming, and you will pay! You will burn for what you have done. Burn, demon!”
    I yank my hand away from her tight grasp just as her eyes shut and her body sags in unnatural slumber. My whole body shakes, ice cold tingles running through my pulsing veins. My instincts tell me to kill her now. To reach into her chest and pulverize her heart with my bare hands. Whatever she’s possessed with needs a beating heart, and I won’t let it take her. I won’t let it take my Amelie.
    With a shaky hand, I reach toward her, just barely touching the space where her most precious, vital organ lay protected. I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have any other choice.
    Her hand suddenly grasps mine, but this time, the touch is soft, gentle. She pulls it closer to her, clutching it to her heart. Once again, her eyes open wide … and bright. Golden irises look back at me, filling the room with brilliant, blinding light.
    “Help her,” a voice whispers. It isn’t her voice, but it’s trill and feminine, not a hint of malice. “Save her.”
    “How?” I find myself asking with trembling lips. I don’t even know who - or what - I’m talking to, but nothing else matters other than saving Amelie’s life.
    “To save her, you must know love,” the small voice says. “You must love her.”
    Then all is black. Still.
    Dark.
    The room is silent and cold with only the rhythm of Amelie’s steady heartbeat echoing in my head. Even after all that’s happened, after seeing her face contorted in absolute evil, she looks so peaceful in slumber. Unable to let her go, I lie beside her and pull her into my arms, placing her head on my chest. The feeling of holding another person, cradling them with such care and affection is foreign, but not unpleasant.
    No. It’s fucking perfect.
    Amelie