Black Holes - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 3

Chapter Thirty Seven

When Leah reached Brenton's room, everyone was there but Alice. Zarah and Cassandra looked bleary, but the sickly sheen had disappeared from Zarah's skin, and Cassandra was leaning against the desk with the arm that, only twenty-four hours earlier, had been ripped to shreds. A bandage still ran from wrist to elbow, but the quick healing of this world was clearly working.

Zarah's eyes flicked to Leah and she gave her a short, sharp nod; but Cassandra's were fixed across the room, her whole body tense, and Leah followed her gaze to the men that sat there.

The two, identical men.

Leah blinked as both halves of Brenton's soul eyed at her, trying to process it.

Even though she knew there were two of him, it'd never really sunk in the way it should've. Her memories of the Brenton of the live world had become so entwined with the ones of his dead half that she hadn't seen them as seperate entities. Nor had she been sure she should.

Did they really count as individual people when they shared the same soul?

She heard a rustle and sensed Alice in the corridor behind her, and she stepped out of the doorway, shifting further into the room. Both sets of Brenton's eyes followed her, focused in a way that made her skin crawl, but then Jared moved in front of her, blocking Brenton's view and stopping her from drawing any closer.

Jared glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with warning, and she let her head drop in a subtle nod. She hadn't forgotten her promise. He wouldn't have to worry about her moving any closer to Brenton than this.

"Everyone's here, I see."

Leah tore her gaze from Jared's and back towards the two Brentons, her eyes flicking between them.

"Even the girl who killed me."

It was the one on the right who'd spoke.

From his slightly healthier appearance, Leah presumed this was the dead half, the one that hadn't been stuck in the in between all this time, but felt the torture from afar. Neither looked good, though. The imposing, threatening man Leah grew up with had shrivelled, and his live half was even worse, the flesh of his arms sagging where muscle once filled.

The look in both their eyes hadn't changed, though. The bitterness she remembered still lay heavy as they stared at her, along with the violence and cunning.

Leah raised her chin, letting the defiance and disdain she'd always felt for him show, and in eerily perfect sync, both of Brenton's lips curled.

Jared's arm brushed hers, his stance becoming more protective.

"Isn't that what you always wanted, Brenton?" Cassandra asked, her voice cutting through the tension so abruptly Leah flinched. "The immortality of the dead world?"

Cassandra's eyes were hard, her muscles straining beneath the skin, and Leah grimaced when she realised the last time Cassandra must've seen Brenton was right before she died, when he'd tortured her.

"Yes," Brenton said. "The healing powers of this world aren't all that beneficial if the whole world is falling apart, though."

Cassandra's lip curled up, disgust coating her face, but before she could say anything else, Jared cleared his throat.

"We didn't bring you back here to antagonise everyone," he said.

His voice was low, measured, but his hands were curled tight enough that his fingers were turning white.

"Why did you rescue me then, Jared?" Brenton asked. "I doubt it was out of love."

Jared flinched, his mask breaking for a second, and the satisfaction that filled Brenton's face made Leah want to lunge at him, to claw away the smirk she knew he was only just holding back.