Page 58 of The World Undone

“Max,” Darius said my name on a low, warning growl, and I knew that, like me, he was trying and failing to understand what was off about tonight, about Greta.

But at his warning, a soft grin curved on Greta’s face, her eyes widening as they focused back on me. It wasn’t like her usual smile—all coy and half-chastisement, like a mother both fed up with and charmed by her children. This one was strange, hook-like, as if her muscles were moving in a way she didn’t quite have control of.

“Are you okay, Greta?” I took a step closer to her, “should you maybe go lie down again? Did you take something? To help you sleep, maybe?”

If she had, that would certainly help explain some of her behavior tonight.

Her smirk thickened, spreading across her face until her eyes were lined with the familiar wrinkles. “Yes, I did.” She reached for my hand, and I let her grab it. “Haven’t been sleeping well, and I’ve been working on a new sleeping draught. Don’t think I’ve quite got it where I need it.”

That explained some of the tinniness to her voice, the strangeness to her affect. My shoulders relaxed slightly. Maybe in her half-drugged state she’d left the door open and knocked a few tables over.

“Come, Max, I’ll take you down to see Seamus before I see you lot off, ease your worries. Then I can sleep off the effects of this. You’ll see, I’ll be good as new in a few hours.” She led me back to the familiar basement door, before shooting a warning glance at Darius and Wade. “Just her though, we don’t need a crowd around him. He’s been especially testy tonight.”

Darius and Wade both opened their mouths to argue, but I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.” They both stood taller, shook their heads, “go check on Ellie. I’ll only be a minute or two.”

I’ll be fine, I sent through the link again, one of you should go explain what happened to Bishop and Charlie—someone’s bound to have answered Ellie’s calls by now.

Darius shot Greta another narrowed-eye glare, the tic in his jaw working overtime as he swallowed back his disagreement.

“Hovering bunch, aren’t they,” Greta tapped her hand over mine, a cold, bemused look in her eyes.

I gave her a tight-lipped grin and nodded her towards the basement. “You have the keys, right?”

For a second, she looked thrown, but then she patted her hips a few times and pulled out the basement key. “I do.”

I followed her down the dark staircase, finding myself oddly wishing Levi were down here. I was jumpier than usual, and his cool, sardonic presence would have been welcome.

I strained my ears, but didn’t hear anything. Hopefully that meant Seamus was sleeping and not going through the pain of shifting in and out of his wolf form like before.

I stopped at the bottom of the staircase, Greta’s hand still gripped in mine as she waddled after me. I pressed myself against the wall, giving her more space to work with. She dangled her keys in front of me and then worked the lock.

With a soft click, she turned the knob and pulled back ushering me forward.

When I stepped into the room, there wasn’t an ounce of light. My fingers hunted along the wall, searching for a switch, but my foot caught on something and I stumbled to the floor.

Greta shuffled into the room after me and closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing as she locked us in. A little overkill, but I wouldn’t fuss with her about precautions, not after the night we’d had.

I conjured a few flames of hellfire in my palm again and held them up so we could see properly. They cast dark shadows across the cracks and hollows of Greta’s face. Her eyes were black pools, hard and impenetrable.

When I glanced down to see what I’d tripped on, I let out a yelp. “Vincent?”

I didn’t know him particularly well, but he was one of the people who often went on runs to bring supplies in. He was due back today.

With my other hand, I searched for a pulse, but I knew it was pointless. His eyes were open and vacant, his limbs contorted in a way that made it clear at least one of them was broken.

He was dead.

I swallowed a panicked sob and looked up at Greta.

She didn’t seem entirely surprised by Vincent’s condition. Her eyes were cold as they studied me, completely void of the warmth I was used to. “Oh dear, what happened to him? Seamus, do you think?”

“Greta—” the word stumbled from my lips, a quiet plea, as I studied her. What the fuck was going on? I crab-crawled backwards, away from Vincent, until my hands found something wet. A quick glance showed more blood.

A lot.

Too much.

Jaw clenched tight, I steeled myself and turned around. There were bodies. If I could even call them that. It looked more like raw meat, picked and devoured, limbs scattered around.

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