Page 142 of Priest and his Anarchist

“She’s not lost, Priest. She’ll come back.” The main doors open once more and Vaden stands on the other side.

I don’t bother correcting River. “Level two?”

He holds my eyes. “I’m ready to take a look around.”

“Hmm.” I rock back on my heels, looking for any signs. Just one. Truth is, he’s about as far in as he’ll get with the curse. Every day is a battle for him.

I feel for the prisoners. Twenty-four cages spread through the tunnels on the second floor, every single one of them housing the worst of the worst, yet here I am. Worried for their safety, more than I am his.

“Yeah.” I’d smile if I didn’t feel so unsettled. “You’re ready.”

Built back in the whatever-hundreds, Perdita was built on top of tunnels. When the island was named Perdita, it was named for what happened beneath it.

“Do you think we could get away with keeping it in-house? That she could go on? We—I could train her! I’ve got some experience. Priest!” River’s words stop me as I’m about to exit.

I’ve seen what I needed to. She isn’t training shit.

Darkness swallows me whole as my fingers flex in the palm of my hand.

The muscles in her face aren’t strained, displaying a relaxed state of—“Luna?” I hate that it comes out. Like a storm rolling into a perfect day, the corners of her mouth curve upward, but the rest of her face remains frozen.

With ballooning pupils, all color is swallowed whole. “Aw, lover. Color me jealous.” Her bottom lip drops.

Before she can retreat, my hand is on her throat as I force her into my chest. Her pulse beneath my fingertips flutters, a lifeline of memories she’s keeping locked inside.

Her smirk remains, the spark in her eye only intensifying, but that’s always been her. Ever the igniter for chaos. It’s the one thing that drives her.

She flexes her throat, her mouth popping open and her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “You wouldn’t, lover. You wouldn’t because I am her, and without me, you don’t have her.”

Oh, how them tables fucking turn.

“What the fuck do you mean?” I seethe, annoyed once more that she’s not making a lot of sense. “I did this for you, because it was you that I fucking wanted, and what do you do?” My head tilts, her lips brushing mine. Wrath surges through my veins, but the beast in the cage doesn’t show any sign of life. “You remind me why pretty girls lie.”

“Tell me, pretty girl….” I trace her eyes. “Did you think she would be enough to save you?”

Her cheekbones turn to dust beneath the palm of my hand, as if all the pent-up anger I’d had for her came down to this very moment.

The color in her eyes returns, but it’s too late. With a twist against the tension in her neck, I rotate my wrist until a resounding crack! Like the weight of every fucking thing I’ve been holding. The past, the hope for the future, the expectations of me, it all crumbles to the ground with her lifeless body.

Soulless.

Bending down, I shift her long hair away from her face, watching as the color I loved so fucking much drains to a pale shade of death.

“You thought you had me.” I place a single kiss on her lips. “But you’re just a pretty girl.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

priest

Imade sure to stay hidden. Long branches spread wide as they cast shadows over my car that’s parked in the darkest corner of the cemetery. Whiskey leaves a bitter drop on the tip of my tongue, the insistent pounding of my head relentless.

I can’t tell if I’m hungover or still drunk.

Leaning forward, I snatch the ball of coke in the side of the door, dusting it out onto the first piece of paper I find.

The life and death of Luna Nox Rebellis.

A fighter to the end, some battles can’t be won.

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