Page 75 of Mud

Too late.

“You fucking cunt.”

Radock’s face filled my vision once more, and I saw it when he raised his hand, lightning fast. The back of it connected with my face. I didn’t even have the chance to breathe in.

My head fell to the side hard enough to make my neck snap.

Everything went dark.

Chapter 17

Rosabel La Rouge

Present Day

Sunlight on my face.

It was warm and soft, luring me out of unconsciousness little by little. Inviting me, promising me that I would like what I’d find when I opened my eyes and gave my attention to the world.

The sunlight was a fucking liar.

My eyes opened when I realized there was music playing in the background—a symphony I knew well and hated with all of my being. Hated, not the way the melody went, but what that melody represented.Whoit represented.

It was Madeline Rogan’s favorite music, and she played it in the background at least once a day when she was reading her newspaper during breakfast or when she was having her afternoon tea.

Panic and fear settled in first. I was wide awake within the second, eyes blinking fast to take in my surroundings, part of mebeggingwhoever would listen that I wouldn’t find what I knew I’d find. That I wouldn’t be in the room I knew I’d be in.

I begged in vain.

The room was big, decorated with reds and pinks and oranges, some paler and some more intense, with lots of gold on the door handles, picture frames, paintings, liquor bottle lids—and, of course, Madeline’s teacups. They were white with intricate designs painted in gold, with red flowers just barely there—undeniably her. The chandeliers on the ceiling were full of tear-shaped crystals, the windows wide and tall, almost as big as the entire wall to my left, the curtains at their sides a rich coral that complemented the blue of the sky perfectly.

The carpet under my feet was painted in a thousand shades of pink, and the dark wooden furniture, the white armchair I was sitting on—every little detail in this room was exactly right. Beautiful, luxurious—an illusion my grandmother covered herself in.

She was sitting across from me, a low glass table between our chairs. Her hair was perfectly done, her red suit and white silk shirt impeccably pressed, a clean French manicure on her fingernails that I’d grown to hate with my whole being, and the rim of her cup was stained red with her lipstick. She held it midair as she read her newspaper for a few seconds, then brought it to her lips and took a small sip before putting it down in its oversized golden saucer again.

She didn’t look at me, didn’t acknowledge me at all, even though I had moved. I was sitting on the armchair, wearing my torn clothes from two days ago, and my mouthwas so fucking dry, and I was so hungry my insides sang, and my mind was a chaotic mess.

Images flashed before my eyes in rhythm with the melody of the music coming from the record player she’d kept in pristine condition since the nineties. It had its own stand in front of an oval-shaped mirror she’d bought when she married my grandfather.

Yes, she knew exactly how to look after the things she cared about.

She just never cared aboutme.

I pushed myself up, trying not to move my neck too much, trying not to freak out and start asking questions right away.Composed,just like she liked. No matter what I’d gone through in the past couple of days, I could not let it show on my face.

Breathing deeply seemed like the logical thing to do to try to calm my racing thoughts. I still had no idea what the hell was happening, but I was here. I was in the mansion, in Madeline’s office. I was alive somehow. My leg was hurting like hell, but it wasn’t bleeding. It didn’t feel like it would fall off me if I tried to move. The right side of my face felt tender and bruised and it pulsated with pain—right where Radock had struck me and had knocked me out.

Radock had struck me.

He and his brothers had tortured me with their magic, and they’d been about to get serious about it with electricity and knives and all kinds oftools, too. They’d wanted to make it hurt.Reallyhurt for what I did. Not just for putting Taland in prison and for not giving them Hill’s name, but for stopping whatever it was they’d tried to do.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve cost the world?”

Shivers ran up and down my body. Radock had been mad with anger, and I had no doubt in my mind that hewould have showed me no mercy. But even so, they wouldn’t have killed me because Taland had claimed the right of my death ashisprerogative.Hewould be the one to end me for good.

And that was the very reason I’d gone to the blue house behind the hill in the first place.

So how in the world had Madeline found me? How was I here when I’d been chained in a fucking basement what felt like seconds ago?! Had Madeline really sent the IDD for me?

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