Page 73 of Born, Darkly (Darkly, Madly 1)
Atonement is another thought. It comes to me on a frantic note, a scream ringing out through the night. Somewhere amid the maze, a man awaits his fate. One of Grayson’s victims. What has he done to be here? Is he worthy of saving?
Who has the right to make that choice?
I’m not a savior. I’m definitely not a hero. But I refuse to be this vile creature Grayson has painted me out to be. I’m not the bad thing—I can’t be. My father’s blood doesn’t course through my veins.
I have a choice.
I drag the skirt of the dress up, freeing my ankles, and I sprint toward the opening of the maze. I took an oath as a doctor, and I can’t let gravity pull me into the blackest hole…not yet.
Fire snakes a blistering trail through my lungs as I reach the latticed opening, halting just within to grasp a breath. I find purchase on the wall of green, supporting my weight. Thorns press into my palm, and I pull away.
The screaming is louder here. My skin ripples with shivers. A glow dusts the night above the tall hedges, and I know that’s my destination. I go in.
A cold sweat blankets my skin, my teeth chattering. The deeper I go, winding a path around walls of shadowy green, the colder the nighttime air gets. The temperature plunges as the night grows darker.
“Dammit,” I curse as I hit a dead-end. I spin around, hands fisting my tangled hair. “Where am I going?”
The distorted hiss of the speaker system erupts, and I spin toward the sound.
“You’re too impatient. Head east. You’ll find your patient in the center.”
“Fucking east,” I breathe, my breath fogging. Which way is east? I chase the light instead, navigating the maze by shadows and instinct.
A tinkling sound disrupts the silence that’s been my companion until now. A faint clang whispers in my ears. I follow the chime, dragging the hem of the dress behind me over the worn path. The hollow of the maze brightens as I turn a corner. Shock seizes my chest with a sharp spike.
No.
At first, I refuse to look—to see—so I stare at my hands. My thoughts lost in a void as I’m sucked down by the undertow.
Then I look up at the keys.
A canopy of gleaming silver and bronze and rusted metals held aloft by red string—a blanket woven of blood in the sky. The keys clang together, playing a dark, chiming melody that chills me to the bone.
My voice cracks on a laugh. I glance at the tattooed key on my flesh until my eyes blur. Sweat leaks into their corners, a biting sting like a needle piercing my vision clear.
He knows me.
In my vanity, I concealed the ugly and vile. And yet he saw.
In my profession, your past can be as damning as a wrong diagnosis. Shame is the conception of most sins against ourselves.
Twirling and twinkling like dancing stars in a black sky, the keys glimmer with the reflection of spotlights. Two lights shine on a glass container in the middle of the maze clearing. A tank filled to the brim with what looks like water. A half-naked man suspended above.
He screams as he fights his restraint. “Help me!”
I try to turn around, to go back, but Grayson’s voice cuts through the night to stop me. “Below your patient is a deadly compound containing a heavy concentration of sulfuric acid. A lethal amount that can dissolve flesh and bone. To help him, London, you have to follow the rules. If you deem his life worthy of saving, that is.”
“Fuck you!” I spin in circles, searching. I claw at the beads strung around my shoulders, tugging at them until the necklace breaks, spilling the glass orbs to the ground. “How do I save him?”
“There’s a path you must follow. Stones guide the way. Stand on each and select a key. For every key you choose, your patient will either be lowered or lifted higher above.” He pauses a beat. “There are two special keys I’ve selected for you. One will set the fiend free, the other is the kill switch.”
How do I know which is which?
Breath searing my chest, I look at the container. A labyrinth of tubes wind and connect. Christ.
“Too many wrong choices and your patient will suffer a very close death to that of his victims. But, for every sincere confession you urge from him, redeeming his black soul, you’ll move him farther above his fateful death.”