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The sequel to Prey, which picks up some five years later.
The Siren's Call
She couldn’t go back there, not to that dark place of uncertainty and silent longing. No matter that the burning desire coursed through her like a living thing. He had disrupted her life, shaken her to the very core and dismantled every solid thing she had known and understood, had shaped her view of the world in an entirely new way, and only recently had she learned to live beyond that.
A Search for Answers
Her breath left her in a rush, as her finger stilled on the photograph. His face, precisely as she remembered it, looked back at her with a snide expression she knew well. But that wasn’t how she chose to remember him.
The Moment of Truth
She couldn’t tell him that in her bones she’d always believed he was alive, that she had been so sure she felt his presence in the quiet moments in her house. She couldn’t tell him that it had been impossible for her to reconcile the possibility that he might not have been, despite her very best attempts to the contrary.
A Hall of Ghosts and Shadows
She had managed to live with the ghost of him for five years, lurking in memories, a hazy presence that lingered like the still there after-effect of a dream. But the reality of him, skin and bone and sinew, a boy she knew yet didn’t, a man she couldn’t reconcile – it was too much.
The Lies That Bind
She had managed secrets before, had stemmed the flow of their poison from seeping into other parts of her life. It was only internally that she suffered the penance for that. And she couldn’t help but wonder now how much sharing secrets in this moment, with this man, might rupture everything, causing truths to bleed across the carefully segmented parts of her.
A Light in the Abyss
He had seen the line drawn, an impassable canyon between here and there, and known unequivocally what it meant, who he was and why. But she had slipped under his skin, an irresistible force, and dragged him through the murky undertow to that shadowy between, where white was not white and black was not black. And now he didn’t know quite what he was. A phantom. A shadow lurking on the periphery.
The Seed of Darkness
Seeing him slip through these hours, a medley of simple moments and mundane things, it showed that he was just a man. A complex one perhaps, but made of blood and bone, of poor choices and agony. No less real than those who came before him, no matter the shadowy place in which she’d stored her thoughts of him, a vision created from half truths and secrets kept.
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