Last Rite by Lisa Desrochers Read Free Book Online Page A

resolve is set. No time like the present to finish this. I cross slowly to Frannie’s door, but then hesitate as I picture her in her bed. My body reacts—a ripple of heat through my insides—and I breathe deep, steeling myself for what comes next. When I have my hormones mostly in check, I push open her door.
    I open my mouth to tell her I’m leaving but then see that she’s asleep. The sheets are tangled around her as she thrashes in her bed. I glide closer and gaze down at her for a long time. Finally, I sit on the edge of the bed and gently sweep her tousled hair off her face.
    “Tay!” she gasps, but doesn’t wake.
    I breathe against the crushing pressure in my chest. She’ll be forever haunted by what happened to her best friend.
    And I’ll be forever haunted by the fact that it never would have happened—none of it—if I hadn’t found her.
    She was Shielded by Gabriel. No other demon had been able to locate her.
    But I did. It wasn’t even hard.
    Gabriel says we’re connected. He doesn’t understand how, but he says our connection is strong.
    And I know he’s right. Everything I am is tied to her.
    She tosses again and I lay my hand on her shoulder. But as much as I want to take all her pain away, I can’t do for her what Gabriel does. Her face pinches and she groans. I lean in to kiss her forehead, then stand.
    I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Because what I want more than anything is to curl myself around her, feel her close.
    The memories flood my senses—Frannie under me, over me. The scent of currant and clove surrounding me.
    I back away from her, my heart dying a little more with every step. I back through the door and close it. I lean my forehead into the door and try to hold it together. When I feel like I can breathe again, I lift my head from the door and turn for my room.
    And find Gabriel standing in the front door, staring.
    FRANNIE
     
    I toss and turn in the sticky sheets, trying to let the rhythm of the rolling waves outside my window calm me. I see things in the shadows dancing over my ceiling. Taylor. Angelique. And blood.
    Always blood.
    It’s nearly impossible to turn my revving mind off. No matter where I shift my thoughts, they always come back to that night—Taylor shoving the knife into her own stomach.
    Taylor dying in my arms.
    “Sheep,” I whisper to myself. I close my eyes and picture puffy white sheep in a field. I start counting, focusing on their fluffy white wool, the grass, the sky. I’m up to 274 when I notice that the sheep is bleeding. I look around.
    All the sheep are bleeding.
    Blood is pouring from their bellies onto the ground. And Taylor is standing in the middle of the field with a knife in her stomach, adding her own blood to the growing river.
    I sit up with a gasp, realizing I’d drifted off. The room comes into slow focus, and, in the moonlight I can just make out a face, drifting in the darkness.
    Matt .
    My heart screeches to a stop and I gasp again, choking on it. I stare harder at the spot, struggling for air. The silver light flickers off the ocean and wavers across my wall, and, where I was sure Matt was standing a second ago, all I see now is the face of a white clock telling me it’s two in the morning.
    I’m going crazy.
    I swallow hard against the acid rising in my throat. On the night table next to my bed are a pill bottle and glass of water. Part of those “provisions” in the Jeep was a bottle of Unisom.
    Gabe knows better than anyone that I haven’t really slept since Taylor, ’cause he’s the one who’s been there every night when I wake up screaming. Tonight is the first night that he hasn’t stayed with me in weeks. I pick up the bottle and spin it in trembling fingers. I open it and shake one out, then swallow it before I have time to think better of it.
    I push the tangled sheets aside and sit on the edge of the bed. The feel of the cool hardwood floor helps to ground me, and my shaking slows