“Focus,” Myrnin said. “Forward three small steps. Be careful not to overshoot.”

She found out why when she took the steps; her toes overhung what felt like another sinkhole.

Myrnin’s voice was close now, very close. “Next,” she said.

“This is the difficult part,” he said. “You’re going to have to jump.”

“Jump?” She wasn’t sure he was thinking straight. “I can’t jump. I can’t see!”

“You wanted to get to me, and this is what it takes. If you want to stay where you are—”

“No. Tell me.”

“Two steps to your left, and jump straight forward, hard. I’ll catch you.”

“Myrnin—”

“I’ll catch you,” he whispered into the dark. “Jump.”

She took two running steps and before she could let herself think about what she was doing, dug in her toes and leaped forward.

She crashed into Myrnin’s solid body, his cold arms wrapped around her, and for a few breaths he held her close as she shivered. He smelled like metal. Like cold things.

He didn’t let go.

“Myrnin?”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And then he bit her.

Chapter 13

13

When Claire came awake again, there were lights in the cave—diffuse and dim, but enough to make things out. Like Myrnin, sitting huddled against the cave wall. She must have made some noise, because his head came up, and he looked straight at her.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen anybody look so miserable in her life, and for a moment she couldn’t think why he would look that way, and then it all came crashing back.

The throbbing in her neck.

The hollow, disconnected feeling inside her.

The panicked thudding of her heart trying to speed too little blood through the racetrack of her veins. Yeah, she recognized that feeling all too well.

“You bit me,” she said. It came out surprised, and a little sad. She started to sit up, but that didn’t go so well; she sank back to the cold stone floor, feeling sick and vague, as if she were fading out of the world.

“Don’t move,” he said softly. “Your pressure is very low. I tried—I tried to stop, Claire. I did try. Please give me the credit.”

“You bit me,” she said again. It still sounded surprised, although she really wasn’t anymore. You can’t trust him. Shane had said that. And Michael. And Eve. Even Amelie.

You can’t trust me.

Myrnin had told her that, too, from the very first. She’d just never really, really believed it. Myrnin was like a thrill ride, one of those dark carnival tracks where scary things swooped in close but never quite touched you.

Now she knew better.

“I told you I’d kill you if you did that. I promised.”

“I am so sorry,” Myrnin said, and lowered his head.