Taken by Sin

“And you can’t recall what happened during these periods?”

“No. Only that there seemed to be a period where I was almost asleep, or I suffered some kind of memory loss, because I don’t remember how I got from point A to point B.”

Georgie came over and sat on the bench next to Isabelle, smoothing her fingers over Isabelle’s hands. Georgie’s hands were warm. Isabelle’s felt like ice.

“You’re blocking them,” she finally said.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re trying to find you, and you’re fighting them. I feel them near you.”

“Them being the demons?” Dalton asked.

“Yes,” Georgie said without taking her eyes off Isabelle’s face. “This is hard for you. It’s causing you stress, pain, emotional upheaval. You’re very strong. So are they. This battle of wills is taking its toll on your psyche.”

Isabelle wasn’t even aware of a battle taking place. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just trying to exist.”

“Trust me. It’s happening. You’re fighting them, but that just makes them try harder to get to you.”

“Okay. I can accept that I don’t want them to take me again. It makes sense that I would subconsciously block them. But that doesn’t really explain my behavior,” Isabelle said. “With Dalton.”

“Actually it explains more than you think. Dalton is the reason you still live. He is-at least in your mind-your one and only ally against them. Also, you are drawn to him, and he to you. But you fight that attraction.” Georgie turned her gaze to Dalton. “So does he. It creates much conflict within you both.”

“Which means?” Isabelle hated to be dense, but she still didn’t understand.

“You’re at war within yourself, Isabelle. You’re fighting an internal battle with demons who want to know where you are. You seem to be trying to focus your attention there. Your full attention. At the same time, you’re also battling your attraction to Dalton. Part of you refuses to give in, very much wants to remain distant. The other part of you wants to join with him, needs to join with him in the most basic of ways.”

She exhaled. So much of what Georgie said made sense.

“Also, I’m not sure it’s the human part of you that seeks him.”

That was not good. Isabelle tensed again.

“Oh, great,” Dalton said. “So what you’re saying is the human side of Isabelle can resist me just fine. It’s the demon side of her that wants to jump my bones.”

Georgie smiled. “In a way, yes.”

“So when I went out in the yard-the part I couldn’t remember-that was the demon part of me …”

“Coming out to play” Georgie finished for her. “Yes, I believe so.”

Isabelle laid her head in her hands to combat the dizziness. “I don’t understand this. It’s all so confusing. You’re talking about parts of me that don’t seem real to me.” She lifted her head, looked at Dalton, then at Georgie. “I don’t feel like I’m battling anything. I feel human. All of me.”

“For now,” Georgie said. “Soon enough, that will change. The demon side of you will grow stronger, will fight for dominance.”

“How can I avoid that?”

Georgie laid her hand over Isabelle’s. “You can’t. You’re going to have to face it. It wants to take you over. They want that part of you to take over. If you want to win, you have to be ready to do battle.” Georgie’s face changed then, her expression fierce, like that of a warrior as she looked at both Dalton and Isabelle.

“You’re both going to have to fight.”

“Tell me what I have to do,” Isabelle said, determination filling her. “I don’t want them to take me again. I won’t let them take me again.” She looked to Dalton, communicating her desires without words. He would understand what she meant.

She’d rather die than let the Sons of Darkness have her.

“You have to break through these losses in time. Work with Dalton on your memories. Allow him to get closer. You’re going to need him in this battle.”

How much closer? If the demon part of her wanted Dalton, shouldn’t she keep him as far away as possible?

“I know the question you’re not asking,” Georgie said. She stood and moved toward the sink, put a few dishes away, then turned and crossed her arms, staring down at both of them. “The answer is no. Don’t keep Dalton away from you. Draw him near. He is all that is good within you. You are all that is good within him. But you have to sift through the darkness together to find the light within each other. Search, until you discover it.”

CHAPTER SIX

Isabelle was floating, sinking into a blissful, dark silence. She felt weightless, as if she were sailing on a cloud in the moonless sky, no destination in mind. Nothing in front of her, nothing behind her. She reached out, sensed only misty, cool air surrounding her. She’d never felt more at peace.

Until she landed with a hard thud, jerking her out of her sense of well-being. She moved, but was restricted by walls on each side of her. She tried to find her bearings, but it was so dark she couldn’t see. Where was she?

She couldn’t move. Not an inch on any side.

She was trapped. She raised her arms above her head, but felt nothing. No handhold. The coolness around her evaporated, her sense of air cut off. Something fell on top of her. She inhaled, breathing in dust, dirt as it rained on top of her in a fine, unending mist. It coated her skin, her lungs, as it continued to pour in on her. Despite covering her mouth and nose, she couldn’t hold it back as the downpour of dirt continued, filling up the tiny hole she was trapped in, burying her to her ankles, her knees, her hips, wedging her in this grave.

“Help me!”

No one answered.

“Dalton, help me!”

Dalton didn’t answer. He wasn’t there. She was alone. Panic hammered at her and she began to shake. She clawed at the sides of the hole. More dirt fell in, trapping her arms at her sides. Now she couldn’t cover her mouth and she breathed in dirt. It filled her nostrils, poured into her lungs, choking her. She couldn’t breathe.

Oh, help me. Someone, please.

She was dying, smothering, unable to suck in life-giving oxygen. They were burying her alive and no one would ever find her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the scream was empty, silent, filled with dirt. As consciousness faded, she heard their laughter, their voices. Dark, evil, twisted.

You’re ours, Isabelle. We control you. Your air, your breath. When you die, you will still be ours. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You cannot put us off forever. Your soul belongs to us.

Isabelle shot up in bed, her mouth open, nothing coming out but a panicked rush of air as she fought for breath, fought for the scream that wanted to erupt but couldn’t.

In the half darkness she saw a shape to the side of the bed. Panic rushed at her, her body filling with heat. She pushed away, ready to run.

“Isabelle.”

Dalton’s voice was low, soothing, as he reached for her hand. “Isabelle, it’s me. You’re here, in your bed. You’re all right.”

She couldn’t catch her breath. Sweat drenched her body, her clothes, the sheets around her. She couldn’t speak, fought to control the overwhelming nausea. Dizziness made the room tilt. The dream was still so real, she was caught between it and the darkened bedroom.

“Breathe, honey. Slow and easy. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Dalton’s voice helped. She did as he instructed and the dizziness began to fade. But this time, she kept the dream in the forefront of her mind, refusing to let it disappear. She wanted to remember, even though the thought of it made her throat constrict.

She shivered. “I’m all wet,” she managed, her voice still hoarse. She could still taste dirt in her throat, shuddered at how real it all was.