Chapter 68

My whole body launched into space as he thrust out his hand, sending an invisible grip around my body. Everything was moving too fast as he slams me against the wall, the glass from a photo frame breaking, sending shards clanking to the floor below my dangling feet. His invisible grip was so much stronger than ever before. He stood stock still in front of me, hand held out in front of me. He snarls like a wolf, those blood red eyes of hate drilling into me, I couldn't even move to try and escape this tightness around my throat as I gag. My body sank into the wall. Plaster dusts my head, and I feel everything sharpening, I realize he's going to kill me as he roars out, pheremones on full blast, power oozing from him like a black fog that made my senses go numb, 'I knew you were one of them!'

It takes everything for me to croak out in my half concious state, 'No!'

It was barely audiable to my own ears as he hisses with rage, bearing his fangs as he snarls, 'What?!'

This was the true power of the Purebloods, my sight fading, everything telling me I was about to die. But then his hold on my neck loosens slightly and I suck in a small breath saying in a reedy voice, 'No, I'm not.'

He throws back his head and lets out a laugh that boardered on insanity as he hisses, eyes boaring into my soul, 'Then what are you?! You just came in from the daylight! You tried to decieve me with that pathetic device! Next time put it on silent you bitten traitor!'

'I'm not a traitor,' I rasp out.

Again his telepathic grip clamps onto my throat like a vice as he snarls, my body feeling the intense weight of his power, joints popping as he says in sharp splintering rage, 'I don't want to hear another word! You have been deceiving us all along! And to think I was beginning to trust you! What are you?!'

'I don't know!'

He steps closer, his power coming in a stronger wave with the procimity of his body to my own. I almost go unconscious, but I hold out, feeling his mind slam into me, stronger than his brother ever had.

'You are a daywalker! Quite a catch for the Silent Phantasma, you were there as a decoy so many weeks ago.'

'No!'

The word was cut short as he steps closer and I'm pushed harder against a wall that was already giving way, my vision blurring red as I taste blood in my mouth.

'Then who are you Nina Simmons?' These words coming out of him as if a monster from a black abyss.

'A friend...'

He snarls at that answer and my mind frantically held onto my last secret. He knew I could walk in daylight, a secret that was now killing me. Then he bares his teeth and snarls, 'How much of what you are is a lie Ms. Simmons?! Is Furlow the leader of the Phantasma?!'

I could no longer talk as he lets out a cutting laugh as I feel my heartbeat slowing, the pressure of my blood wooshing through my head with each fainter beat. My muscles tense but useless against this power. He continues, 'You have had us fooled from the beginning, and I'm not taking any chances after what happened two nights ago. Your powers defy logic, maybe a Pureblood disguising yourself as a C rank, well done I must say. So now I have only one question to ask before I send you to your grave. Who is your maker?!'

Gagging, drooling as his grip strengthened, tears of fear and realization sliding from my eyes. The weight of his power crushing my chest, even as the grip on my neck wrung me dry. He was done being nice, he's eyes were cold with fury. I could feel my blood seemingly boil and I knew he was killing me slowly, I wouldn't be a grease spot like the ghouls he had eviscerated. Fear spurred me on and I knew there could be no more secrets, no more lies. I expel in what was left of the air from my lungs, up my tightened throat and out in two gagging words, 'You are!!!'

Another laugh as I knew my words wouldn't reach him, but I knew my mind would. I let the wall in my mind crumble away. I knew he was there, just waiting for it to slip and I was right. My eyes widen as the expanse of his mind takes over, tears spilling from my eyes. It was terrifying and I could smell the acrid scent of my own fear mingled in among his overpowering scent of hate, smokey and deadly.

With slow steps he comes forward, his power morphing as was his scent as I feel his mind turning the pages of my life in my head. I wanted to shy away, but I knew that would invite disaster. It was as if he was peeling back the layers of the pages of a book from the back towards the front.

Then the one I didn't want seen came into sharp focus and I feel despair fill me even when oxygen wouldn't. Tears spilt down my cheeks, as he watches the first meeting, than the next, and finally the last, stripping me of every vestige of secrets.

The sclera around those blue pupils slowly turn to their white coloration, the slits of his pupils rounding again. His tense, focused muscles melting as his grip loosens.

Suddenly he stumbles back, his hands jerking away as if stung by the electricity that sparked between us even in this tense and deadly confrontation though he had yet to touch me. I flop to the floor, coughing, gasping for breath. Every bone in my body screamed and I lift my arm to brush away the tears, hollow and empty.

He hadn't moved, as I slowly look up at him. His eyes were wide as he stared down at me, and whispers, 'It... can't be...'

Then just as quicly the shock morphs into stone, the pheremones and power unleashed now gone. Rubbing at my throat, we simply stare at each other, my panting breath the only solis in the room. His eyes searching my face, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Finally he shakes his head, though stone like in expression, I saw the paleness of him. No words came from him, then those eyes lift from mine, seeming to search the room for answers. Finally he says, eyes returning to my pleading ones, 'Stay here. I will return shortly.'

With that he turns, walks to the wall, pauses for a moment. I almost hoped he would turn and rush to me, remembering who I was, but instead I see a small shake of his head as he fazes through the wall like a ghost. I am alone, I am completely alone now.

Had Nick just cut me off? Had my maker refused the fact he was my creator? Slowly I look around, seeing my phone in the plush carpet. For once in my life I had left my phone on data and not airplane mode. It had proved to be my downfall. Crawling to it, feeling the burn of pain in my muscles from the weight of Nick's power, I grab it. Everything seemed hollow, even my hungers gnawing presence was gone. Unlocking the screen, I look at the number. It was unfamiliar, but I knew it had to be important as I dial back.

As the phone rings, I question why I'm returning the call, everything was over. I would likely die by the hands of a Night Hunter shortly. But for some reason, my mind, my muscle memory, or even my own curiosity impelled me on.

A woman answers the other end with a hello and I reply still raspy, 'Hello, I just received a call from this number.'

'Oh yes, my name is Mrs. Natalie Fullerman, my husband had spoken to you just before his death.'