Page 133 of Nightshade

Running a hand through my hair, I took a few steps back to allow him entry, and he shut the door behind him.

“Anya said you weren’t feeling well.”

Arms crossed, I tipped my head and studied him, noting that he didn’t take his one good eye off me, which resulted in the most uncomfortable stare down of my life, until I finally broke and looked away.

“What is different about your eyes that seem brighter today?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Death, maybe.”

Frowning, he linked his hands behind him and crossed the room to the window. “You seem to think you attempted a cliff dive yesterday.”

“You’re going to tell me I didn’t?” I asked, making my way back toward the bed, where I plopped down onto the mattress. “That you were somewhere else when I dove headfirst, plunging toward the rocks?”

“I was working. But I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“I should thank you for that. You’re the one who saved my life.”

He smirked over his shoulder and resumed his staring out the window. “I’m not in the business of saving lives, remember?”

“Yes. You transition them. Whatever the hell that actually means. I want to know what you are. You said you’re not fallen. Not angel. Then, what? Because I know damn well you’re not human.”

“Do you actually know what all of this means, Miss Ravenshaw? The purpose of Nightshade?”

“Purgatory?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “The place the Christians of your world believe souls go to be cleansed so they can be accepted into Heaven? No. This is far from Purgatory.”

“Then, enlighten me.”

“Nightshade is where you go when you don’t believe in anything. The poor souls who end up here are so easily plucked like flowers.” He held up one of the nightshade flowers that I distinctly remembered picking before I dove off the cliff. “They are eternally trapped. Encapsulated in their own denial.”

“You’re saying there really is a soul trapped in those flowers?”

“You once asked me where the other innocent ones go. They remain unclaimed, under my care.”

“Oh, God. I drank the tea.” And I almost ate one.

“Yes. And if you attempt to return, you’ll return to nothing. Unfortunately, those of you who traverse willingly don’t even have the ability to return to a corpse.”

With a wary side-eye, I shook my head. “Only if I died in the other realm. All I did was drink the tea.”

“What exactly do you think Nightshade is, Miss Ravenshaw?”

Thoughts too muddled in confusion, I didn’t bother to answer him.

“It’s a gateway to the shadowed world. A one-way ticket.”

“No. My father drank the tea.”

“And I suspect he is dead.”

A cold and hollow pressure expanded inside my chest, squeezing my lungs. I shook my head in disbelief. “No. There’s no way. The man who gave me the tea--”

“Swindled your soul.”

“Not true. I had to coax him. He didn’t want to give me the tea at first. He sent me away.”

“To gain your trust, no doubt. Brilliant, really. What better way to convince you than to deny you?”