Page 47 of The Fallen Kingdom

“Not if she’s dead.”

My lip curls. “I know that.”

“Do you? Because you’re killing her,” he tells me, voice hoarse. “I can feel it.”

Shock courses through me, just enough clarity to force my powers back down. To lock them up in the tight space of my chest and keep them from spilling out again.

Sorcha immediately gulps in air, her chest heaving with the effort.

It hurts so damn much to hold all that power. I feel like I’m dying. Iamdying. But Kiaran is studying me too closely, so I shutter away the pain. I ignore the ache. After his willingness to kill people to help save me, I can’t tell him that every time I use my powers, I die faster. I can’t risk what he might do.

Don’t let him see.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him, shaking my head. “I can’t—I’m sorry.”

“You should be sorry,” Sorcha gasps behind us. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “If there was even a chance I was willing to help you before, I take it back. I’d rather hang here for eternity.”

I make a threatening step toward her, but Kiaran stops me. He’s staring at Sorcha with an intense, considering look. I know that expression: He’s making a decision. Weighing the alternatives. Kiaran is careful like that.

That’s how I know that whatever he’s about to propose is either incredibly foolish or very dangerous, and probably both.

“MacKay—”

“You said you’d do it for a price,” he finally says to Sorcha, avoiding my gaze. “Name it.”

“No.” I put my hand against his chest to push him back. “Don’t you dare.”

But the stubborn arse won’t even look at me. He says to Sorcha: “Just tell me what you want.”

Sorcha’s smile is slow. It cuts through me quicker and more painfully than any blade. And when she looks at me with that arrogant, mocking hint of a fang between her lips, I know. I know what she’s considering.

Whatever will hurt me the most.

“She knows exactly what I want,” Sorcha says in that cheerful, singsong voice of hers. The one from my nightmares. “Don’t you?”

Kiaran. She wants Kiaran.

My fingers curl into fists. “Go to hell.”

Sorcha laughs, a throaty, seductive sound. “Been there, done that,” she says. “And I’m prepared to go again. For that, my price is steep.”

I blanch.And I’m prepared to go again. Through the door. What did she experience on the other side?

The Morrigan. Sorcha’s expression says it all. The Morrigan is still alive.

Sorcha doesn’t wait for my answer. “You’ll need my blood to open the Book, too. You can even have it when we find it. But you, Kadamach? You’ll be mine, wholly and forever. She’ll never see you again. Those are my terms.”

I rake her with a look. “This is a disgusting deal, even for someone like you.”

“Oh, but I was so moved and inspired by your earlier words.” Her melodic voice is back, mocking me. “He’s mine every bit as much as I’m his. You said I didn’t understand that. Now I will, won’t I? Kadamach won’t be yours anymore; he’ll bemine.”

My control is fraying at the edges, barely there. Kiaran’s restraining hand on my arm is the only thing keeping me from snapping Sorcha’s neck. Then he slides his fingers down my arm and presses his palm to mine, a calming touch.

He whispers in my ear, “Don’t let her see. Remember?”

I try. I try so hard to hide it all. That awful spiraling helplessness I haven’t experienced since I lost my memories is returning and pulling me down, down, down again.

Sorcha’s teeth flash in a grin. “What say you, Falconer? Does saving the world mean more to you than your preciousKiaran? How desperately do you need my help?”

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