Page 152 of The World Undone

But one more glance at the pile of bodies Jarrod left for me made it abundantly clear that he’d sucked the life out of this town before he’d burned whatever remained.

He would leave no survivors. To someone like him, that kind of humanity would be a marker of weakness.

If those were the rules he wanted to play by, I’d gladly do my part.

“I’ll kill him,” I said, my hands shaking with anger I no longer had the strength to repress.

I’d kill him, and I’d make him suffer before I did, make him feel every ounce of pain and fear he’d put this town through—tenfold.

There was no redemption for someone like him, someone who stole power and used it to torture and destroy those who had none.

“I—” I paused, swallowing whatever else I was going to say, as my stomach bottomed out, even though I didn’t think there were any lower depths for it to go. I looked up, meeting Ro’s eyes. “The cabin.”

We shifted there together, but as soon as the familiar landscape filtered into focus, I almost wished it hadn’t.

Jarrod stood near the entrance of what used to be our home, surrounded by what had to be at least a hundred of his lackeys.

So he hadn’t committed all of that slaughter alone.

But I couldn’t focus on any of them.

The image of our cabin, eaten alive by flames and curls of smoke would be imprinted on my brain for the rest of my life.

“It’s gone,” I mouthed, unable to find my voice through the grief, “it’s all gone.”

The journal.

A wave of grief knocked me to my knees when I realized that the last bit of Cyrus I had, the words he’d etched into the pages while we grew up—I’d left it in the cabin months ago.

It was gone too.

Ro grunted, the sound angry and deep, almost animalistic, before he charged towards Jarrod and his army.

Declan had her shit together enough to grab him and pull back, using all of her strength to contain him while he used all of his in a desperate attempt to shake her off.

I stood there, frozen—unable to muster the strength for anger, for anything other than the deep, suffocating pain of grief.

“This is all rather unfortunate,” Jarrod said, pulling my attention back to him. “If you had simply agreed to my terms when they were originally offered to you, we wouldn’t have had to sink to such levels.” He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. “All those people, dead when they had nothing to do with this.” He shook his head. “Such a shame. A terrible price for an important lesson.”

“Why?” My voice cracked, and I clutched my chest, fighting like hell to suck in a breath. “I?—”

“Because I can’t kill you.” Jarrod’s mouth spread into a sneer as he glanced around at his followers. They stood, unmoving, the traces of the massacre they’d taken part in cloaked their clothes, stained their skin. “I need you. We all do.” He spread his arms open wide, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I need your power. With it comes the only chance we have at surviving. Yet you remain stubborn, and stubborn children need to be broken. Only then can you be of use to me.”

“You killed them. You killed them all.” Ro spat, his voice filled with a venom I’d never heard. He renewed his attempts to rush towards Jarrod, hatred etched in every line of his face, but Dec’s hold remained strong.

“Well,” Jarrod tilted his head to the side as he studied me, eyes narrowed, “if I couldn’t kill you, and our conversation got us nowhere, what options did I have? Like most insolent children, I can punish you. Take things from you—the things you love most.”

“They’re people,” Declan said, “not fucking toys. You’re a monster.” She shook her head, eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re all fucking monsters. There were children—” her voice broke. “You killed children.”

“Humans die every day.” Jarrod shrugged, as if the distinction bore no scrutiny. “You are running out of time, Miss Bentley. Consider this a little push, urging you to reconsider your stance on things. You’re a smart girl, a quick learner—I think you’ll see things my way soon. And when you do, have your little techy friend send us word—he’s clearly figured out how to reach us.”

He nodded to the sea of his minions, and without a word they parted.

I screamed at what I saw, the sound so deep and feral that I hardly recognized it as my own.

The tree where we’d scattered Cy’s ashes, and the ground surrounding it, were burnt to a crisp.

“Consider this town, this cabin, just old, empty graves of your past.” Jarrod spoke as if the dozens of humans they’d killed were no more important than specs of dust—as if I’d needed any more convincing that he cared nothing for protecting humanity, only for power. “But we can dig fresh graves, Miss Bentley. And we can fill them with those you love most.” He shifted back into my line of sight, Cy’s resting place lifting in plumes of smoke behind him. “My intel has identified a small little resort—one not too far from here—that has experienced a large uptick in activity, despite all suggestions that it closed several years ago. Work with us, and maybe I won’t investigate this particular anomaly for myself. Work with us, and no one else you love has to die.”

---