The Night Children

Chapter 24

Edited. 

I felt like a deer caught in the hunt. Tripping over every individual piece of packed snow, dodging through draping leaves, weaving amongst dense pine trees, the need for survival driving my legs to keep up the chase.

I wasn't sure how far Isaac was, or if he was following me entirely, but I refused to stop. To look back was to acknowledge the past.

Isaac was a murderer.

My lips were numb from the cold, senseless like the rest of my face. Blood roared in my ears, unnaturally painful and hot against the icy temperature of my skin. I didn't – couldn't—stop.

As I ran, my sneakers snagged on something large. I stumbled, falling forwards in a staggering trip. My other foot came down, sinking deep into a mound of snow. Unbalancing, I landed heavily on my chest, feeling the wind escape my lungs. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I forced them back to turn to the mound I'd fallen over.

Ambers face stared back at me.

Stifling a scream, I scrambled to a stand. Her lips were parted as if in breath. I knew deep down she hadn't taken a breath in weeks. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at me, studied sightlessly at my figure.

Death was beautiful in some ways. It captured Ambers youth, seeping her blushed cheeks into an icy embrace. Kissing her lips with blue, stealing away her life blood. Icicles clung to her eyelashes, like shadows clinging to a host. Her fingers, purpling in the ice, were clenched.

Fear washed through my body, as numbing as the cold. Isaac had done this to her. Those winding cuts were from his wrath. I dreaded what weapon he had used; what ferocity it took to hack at her skin until her ribs showed.

I couldn't be one of the murdered. I couldn't be the next body encased in snow. I would survive. I wouldn't be another soul trapped under the inescapable clutches of death.

Spinning on my heel, I propelled forwards, leaving Ambers vacant gaze behind. I was too late to save her. Death had claimed her as one of His. Snowflakes whirled into my eyes, staining my vision with prickles of white. I swiped at them, clawing at my eyes until sobs attacked my body.

I would be the next Amber. Death would grip me with taloned hands and shove me into Hell with the whisper of the promise of agony.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around me, hoisting me off my path. I let out a loud scream, pushing away from their grip. A hand clamped around my mouth, warm against my frozen skin. Another hand tightened at my waist, securing me close to their body. I twisted away, clawing at them.

"Please Isaac," I sobbed. "You don't have to do this."

A small voice responded, barely audible. "Be quiet."

The voice, as soft as bells, instantly stilled me. "Aaron?" I breathed.

His fingers on my mouth loosened. "I said be quiet, he'll hear us."

A part of me succumbed to the flicker of relief that settled into the knots in my stomach, another part loathed it. I shouldn't be relying on this boy to save me. I could save myself.

Heat radiated off him in waves, warming my bare arms. I could feel the hardness of his stomach against my back, the movement of his long breaths pressing on my spine. His scent, honeycomb and vanilla, bathed me, cloaking my fear.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered sharply. Reefing myself out of his arms, I spun to face him.

His nose was pink from the cold, and snowflakes tangled in his hair. Some of his fringe parted across his eyelashes, scathing his gaze. His lips parted, allowing a cloud of condensation to wisp through them.