Page 103 of The World Undone

Not like this.

Ro shifted his weight. “What?”

“Enough,” I choked out as soon as I could find the barest sliver of my voice. “This isn’t—” I shook my head. “The stone. Where are you keeping the stone?”

This was the only piece of information worth ripping from the man before me. Everything else was lies and propaganda. He didn’t care for the survival of this world or humanity, only his own.

A cold, harsh bark of a laugh ripped from his lips as he focused on Darius, on Ro—ignoring me entirely for once.

“So she hasn’t told you?” He tilted his head, meeting my eyes again. “Or perhaps you don’t even know yourself.” He read the truth, which I knew was now etched clear as glass on my face, no matter how hard I tried to disguise it. “No, the former. Well,” he clapped his hands together in glee, the crash of the sound echoing through the room, “perhaps this will help persuade your companions to my side. You see,” he took a step closer to Ro, identifying him as the safer target apparently, “the ritual your sister is planning requires several things—most expensive among them, her life.”

Turn around.

Grab them both, teleport the fuck out of here.

Now.

But, for some reason, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Black dots swam in my vision, blurring the scene before me, until it felt like I was watching the realization unfold from above—outside of my body, a passive observer no different than the army of protectors lining the room. My fingers battled between tingling and numbness, and I couldn’t convince my muscles to move.

Do something. Do fucking anything, Max. Come on.

All I could do was stand there, watch this scene play out with Jarrod in complete control.

“You didn’t really think any one person could survive it, did you?” Jarrod’s tone was taunting now, and I could feel the conflict burrowing through Ro on my right, the struggle not to believe the words this asshat of a man was uttering. “No one person could survive pulling that much power through herself—the very power used to create and stabilize the realms for centuries? Come now, boy—” he shook his head, made an infantilizing tsking noise as he moved closer, “I’m certain Cyrus raised you to be smarter than that.”

“It’s not true.” Ro’s body was coiled, every muscle begging to spring into action and attack this man. But he reigned it in and turned to me. “Max, tell him.”

Darius was silent, an impossible stillness and blankness that terrified me more than any of the people in this room could.

A hot tear spilled down my cheek, anger I couldn’t swallow back—but also guilt. I fought to take a breath, but my lungs refused to work.

“No.” Ro took a step back like I’d slapped him.

I felt something shift in the room, something dangerous and all-consuming.

It called to me, both familiar and not.

But it wasn’t coming from Jarrod, or Elizabeth, or the anxious hum of protectors who were not-so-discreetly lifting their weapons and preparing to attack at the drop of a hat.

It was Darius.

His eyes were daggers, unfamiliar and unseeing as I tried to make contact.

His breathing was labored, like he was fighting some heavy battle I couldn’t see. The veins along his forearms were defined and bulging, the grip of his fists so tight that blood was streaming through his fingers and pooling onto the floor.

“What are you doing to him?” I turned to Jarrod, then back to my vampire, scanning for the signs of a wound—just, something. But he was untouched.

Elizabeth’s focus shifted to Darius, looking for the first time since I laid eyes on her like she wasn’t utterly bored.

“I—” Jarrod looked confused, then took a step back, shaking his head.

He hadn’t done anything.

The confused stares pulsing with concern and apprehension from the other protectors suggested it wasn’t any of them either.

Fuck.

My fear for Darius helped break through my paralysis.

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