Page 131 of An Inheritance of Monsters

I shrugged, swearing under my breath as I kicked my long skirt out of the way for the tenth time.

The light coming in through the skylight was gleaming a bloody red, painting the white stairs like an abattoir, and Carson sucked in a breath as he glanced up.

“Move faster.” He snapped the command, his voice cold and sharp. “We’re running out of time.”

“That’s fine with me.” It wasn’t, not in the slightest—I had to find a way to enact the ritual—but if slowing down Carson kept him from turning the Void into a money-machine, so be it.

Carson’s lips twisted in a sneer, and he moved as though to jab the knife into my side again—but then paused, that sneer becoming a sly smile.

He brought the knife to Sierra’s leg, angling the blade against her thigh. “Guess what’s under here?”

My heart stuttered several beats as I stared down at him. “...An artery.”

“Yup. So unless you’d like to be responsible for Sierra bleeding out like a slaughterhouse pig, I’d suggest you shut thefuckup and focus on getting to the top of these stairs.”

I swallowed hard, turning my back on him and climbing with renewed purpose.

He was crazy, but I also believed he would do it.

My side was aching horribly by the time the door leading to the drop came into view. The little wounds he’d opened were already clotting, but the itch of the drying blood only exacerbated the pinpricks of pain.

There were no ghosts up here this time. Only us, under a bloody comet.

Carson heaved Sierra from his shoulder, propping her against the banister. He pushed open the double doors, showing nothing but darkness beyond.

I twisted my hands behind my back, making a frantic final effort to release my hands from the bonds. The skin on my wrists burned with every twist, and soon the wetness of blood coated my palms.

But it provided a tiny amount of slickness, just enough to begin trying to work my hands free.

Carson leaned over Sierra and slapped her hard. She groaned again, eyelids fluttering, and another slap rang out.

Her cheek flushed red where he hit her, but her eyes finally cracked open, unfocused as she stared at him.

“Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he said cheerfully. “On your feet.”

He stood up, heaving her along with him. Sierra swayed and clutched the banister for support.

I stood to the side, twisting my hands while moving my arms as little as possible, watching as Carson pried her fingers from the banister.

There was another sensation growing in me, but not the sickening thrum of the comet’s arrival.

It was one I had begun to know well, that tingling sensation that made the fine hairs all over my body stand up.

There was a door to the Void very near us. Anopenone.

Carson showed no sign of sensing the door, but he herded Sierra up the last few steps to the open doors of the staircase, where a drop of four stories awaited her.

He was a coward. Unable to kill her himself, so he’d shove her to a terrible death and pretend he could wipe his hands clean of the act.

“Just because you don’t use the knife doesn’t mean you didn’t kill her,” I said quietly.

Carson glanced at me over his shoulder, eyes glittering with feverish intensity. “I don’t care.”

He held her by the arm, carefully standing a foot back from the drop into the abyss and holding Sierra in front of him.

I saw his fingers tighten on her arm, digging into her flesh. The sudden set of his shoulders as he settled on his course.

My wrists were bleeding, my hands still tied… but they were only a few feet away. And the door to the Void hummed, calling me, pleading.

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