Chapter 8

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Nesy

My emotions swirl inside as the day continues. This job is so much more difficult than I had expected. I want to blame my humanity for my problems. Blame the imaginary memories my host must still have. Blame Zane for not cleaning her thoroughly.

But my human body isn't the problem. I am. Just like Zane said. I think of my long-dead sister and all that she has meant to me. I cried when I decided to leave her. I wonder, did she cry for me when I died?

I walk into my last class, Study Hall, discouraged, confused. I have to finish this assignment. I need to prove to myself that I'm the warrior I think I am and not some love-struck girl caught in her own memories—memories of a boy long since dead. Memories of a sister that no longer exists. Memories of a time that can't ever be.

Adam.

I shouldn't be thinking about you, about that life.

I sit at an empty table in the large expanse of the library. The room is quiet except for the questions screaming through my head, their incessant loop too mesmerizing to ignore. It lulls my body into a stupor. My eyelids flutter and I yawn. I can't fight my fatigue, can't resist my body's need to sleep. I slump over my books as dreams form around me. Large grassy fields, the scent of pine and soap, the sound of laughter as I die over and over again.

The visions pulse in and out, changing into something new.

A hand in mine...hot.

Breath on my neck...sweet.

The feel of lips on my own...forbidden.

I pull back from the boy in my dreams.

Black spiky hair. Tall, lean silhouette. Penetrating amber eyes.

Aydan.

I rip myself from the dream, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

"Dreaming of me already?"

I feel the color rise in my cheeks. Azryel's Wings. I pull the fragmented pieces of my mind together. Consume my feelings. Orient myself: last period, Study Hall, library.

"You know, Mr. Presley hates it when people fall asleep in class. You're lucky he didn't catch you." Aydan pulls out the chair across from me and sits.

"Yeah, well, it happens." I can't hide the anger in my voice. What the heck is wrong with me? Sentinals don't sleep—especially when they're on the job. "So, where's your friend? The way you guys talk, I assumed you went everywhere together."

"He had someplace to be."

Good. Time to finish this before anything else can go wrong.

"I guess it's just you and me then."

Sentinal's Tear (Book #1 in Requiem Series) [formally titled Lacrimosa]Where stories live. Discover now