Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“No, like I said, she didn’t change all my thoughts about you. You’re a murderer.”
“Ah, so true.” He smiles, the fake one. The cold one. I see it in the last light.
“You do whatever Gregor tells you to do.”
“With pride.” He nods.
“But you have a secret part of you.”
“Is that so?” he mocks.
“Yes. I’m sure of it now.”
“Melody, ever faithful to me, led you down the primrose path. She looked kindly upon me as her sire, so she wanted to share that with you. You ate it up. I should’ve rewarded her for it.”
I stop and turn to him. “I’m not falling for it.”
“For what?” He faces me.
“For this.” I wave my hand at him. “This one note farce that you—”
“Down!” He’s on top of me in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing.
The breath knocked from me, I cough as he covers me with his body, a shadow passing overhead. He bares his fangs, a feral look on his face, his gaze on the sky.
“It’s me,” someone calls.
“Fuck!” He gets to his feet then pulls me up.
Coal lands outside the orchard, his black wings smoking the slightest bit.
“What are you doing?” Valen scowls.
“I came as soon as I heard.” Coal barrels through the trees, his wings clipping branches, twigs flying.
“Heard what?”
“Gregor has summoned us.”
“Does that require you to fry?” Valen swats at Coals smoking shoulder. “You could’ve waited.”
Coal shakes his head. “No. He wants you to bring her.”
Valen stills, and I could swear the air turns colder, my breath coming out in a fog.
“Now?”
“Immediately.”
“Fuck!” Valen roars.
I jump at the fury of it, and a flock of some winter bird takes flight from the next orchard over.
“Go,” he barks at Coal. “We shouldn’t arrive together.” Valen takes my hand and pulls me along the row with him.
I hear the thump of Coal’s wings as he takes flight and swoops over us, his silhouette against the rising moon, the magic of it an all-too-brief distraction.
“Why?” I stumble over a tree root, but Valen keeps me upright. “Why does he want to see me?”
“He knows I haven’t made progress, and Whitbine is dead.”
“He doesn’t know—” I gasp as it hits me. “He’ll find out. He’ll compel me. H-he’ll ask and—” I dig my heels in. “You can’t take me to him.”
“You don’t have a choice.” He wraps his arm around my waist and half carries me to the elevator. “Neither do I.”
My knees are jelly as I lean against the elevator wall. “He’ll see what you did. He’ll kill you.”
“Worried for me?” he asks.
Déjà vu hits me hard, and I catch a glimpse of a memory. Valen. He’s asked me that before. In DC. Before—the sharp stab between my eyes makes me drop the thread. And then it’s gone, as if floating away like the spool to a kite caught by the wind and sent flying, a hapless child chasing slowly behind.
“What?” He peers at me as the elevator keeps dropping, not halting where it usually does. “What is it?”
“I had a …” I don’t know what I had. I can’t remember it. “The elevator can go farther down?” I ask instead.
“Always the most observant little rabbit.” He smirks.
“You know what’s on the lower levels, don’t you?” I edge closer to him.
His eyes widen, actual alarm showing in them before he hides it with his usual stoicism. “Do tell.”
“Husks.”
“Mmm.” He looks up as if beyond exasperated. “And how did you discover that?”
“You said I could explore, so I explored.” I shrug.
He takes a deep breath, as if it requires every bit of his patience to speak to me. “And you failed to mention it to either David or me?”
“I guess I thought you knew.” Why am I getting defensive?
“I’ll have David destroy them when—”
“No.”
“What?” He looks genuinely curious now. “Why not?”
“Because they’re victims. They didn’t choose to be that way. They were stolen and hurt and … And it’s not their fault. But, I mean, if they have to go, do it humanely. Gently, even.”
I’ve never seen him so utterly flummoxed. It would be amusing if we weren’t currently on our way to an audience with Gregor. The reminder makes me shiver.
The elevator stops with a rough creak, and Valen slides the accordion grate open. I don’t move. Beyond is utter darkness, and I remember the dank smell. We’re in the tunnels, the same place where Whitbine—I wring my hands and back away from the opening. “I can’t.”
“Come along.”
“No.” My blood pounds in my ears, the darkness beyond the elevator growing and threatening to swallow me. “I can’t.”
“You must.” He steps beside me and pulls one of my hands free, then tucks it in his.
“No.” I can’t breathe. I’m drowning.
He steps in front of me, his free hand on my cheek. “Breathe.”
“I can’t.” I gasp.
“Georgia.”
The way he says my name is jarring. I take in a breath. Then another.