Black Stars - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 25 - Black Stars

Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.

- George RR Martin, A Game of Thrones

The next morning, Leah woke clumsily. Her dreams had been disjointed and confusing, and she'd fought her body's urge to wake in hope that she might understand them better.

She'd been on the bridge again, only this time soaked to the bone with Danny hanging over her shoulder. His eyelids had been fluttering, his breaths dragged and gluey, as if coming from dead lungs.

"Please kill me," he moaned. "I need you to kill me."

His mantra had stuck on repeat, looping around her brain like a faulty record.

"It's okay, Danny," she whispered. "It's going to be okay."

But even as she spoke, her vision flickered, and something else was painted on her eyelids. Something that made her heart stop. Danny was lying on the ground, a knife in his chest and eyes blank.

And then it rewound and she was on the bridge with Danny again, his moans filling her ears once more.

The images repeated over and over until Leah felt herself waking, and try as she might, she couldn't keep herself there.

When her eyes eventually opened, she felt deflated.

If those visions had been memories, as she presumed they were, they'd confirmed something she'd avoided considering. She knew Danny had been shot, but she'd fallen off the bridge too quickly to know where he'd been hit. But a knife to the chest was pretty conclusive.

Danny was dead.

He was here, somewhere in this world.

Did he know what had happened to her? Had he tried to find her?

Her breathing was frantic, her cheeks stained with tears, and she brought her hands up to her face and rubbed roughly.

"Leah?"

She flinched and looked over to find Jared's eyes fixed on her, his forehead furrowed. Any hope that he wouldn't notice her breakdown vanished.

"What's wrong?"

Leah stared at him a moment longer before rolling away and wriggling out of her sleeping bag.

"Nothing," she muttered, and began to shove everything into her pack.

Before she'd finished Jared moved to her side and grabbed her arm. She glared up at him and found his face close. Too close. Near enough that she could see emotions in his eyes that threw her off balance. He looked panicked, almost fearful.

"Did you remember something?" he asked.

Leah blinked in surprise and then pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"That's none of your business."

"Why are you crying?" Jared pushed.

Leah turned away, packing her remaining things and hoisting the bag onto her back. Jared was still standing there, watching her with that confusing mix of muted panic and uncertainty. It was too searching and purposeful, too typically Jared, and it made her inexplicably furious. She needed time alone to process what Danny's death meant without him watching her.

"Look," Leah snapped. "I had a bad dream, but it wasn't anything new. I just don't want to talk about it."

Her words made something withdrawn and wary appear on his face.