Page 60 of Breaker

Securing my future,I think but don’t say.

I stalk past him, ignoring his stream of questions and head up the stairs to my mother’s room. She had a separate bedroomfrom my father. The queens quarters our staff called it. I didn’t understand why until I was older.

My mother was the queen of her castle, and we were all just her pawns.

Once in her room, I brush past the canopy bed, the vanity still laden with her old face creams and make up. Glass bottles of perfume and large brushes. At her walk-in closet I stop, and swing the door open.

The light flickers for a minute then settles with a buzz highlighting the past like an exhibit in a museum. It’s like she was just in here. Shoes lie tossed on the corner, clothes strewn about, belts and purses flung haphazardly around. I remember I’d sat on her bed watching her get dressed that day, asking about her dresses and why she needed so many.

My mother was in a good mood that day, and she’d let me ask questions. And I ate it up because she wasn’t annoyed with me.

She’d seemed excited.

Then I never saw her again.

Trialing my hand over the hanging clothes, I think about that day and how I didn’t know it was the last day I’d ever see her. Part of me is glad that little me had that memory of her. That I could carry that sweetness she’d shown me that day through life. Most of me is sad for that little girl who so desperately wanted her mother to be nice to her had to grow up knowing that while Coraline Julian was capable of being a decent mother, she simply chose not to.

At the back of the closet, I reach her gowns, and sort through them until I find the right one. Tossing it to Clyde I say, “Have this cleaned. I’m wearing it to Zane’s function.”

Clyde gives me that head cocked to the side, brow quirk again, and right when I think he’s going to ask me,Why this dress Cora?,he says,“This was your mother’s favorite dress.”

The sizzling dread that’s been sitting in my stomach for days has morphed into a perverse excitement. “I know,” I say moving past him to exit the closet.

And so does Zane.

Stupid fucker. He doesn’t know what’s coming. Hopefully when he realizes what’s hit him, he won’t try to have me killed.

Chapter 19

Breaker

15 Years Ago, September, Age 13

Achilly wind snakesthrough the trees, making the leaves shiver. Night fell a few hours ago and with it the temperature. We’re used to the cold, but this chill feels different. It’s a little wet, like it’s sticking to us, seeping under our skin.

We walk close together, eyes darting around until we reach a thin clearing. Animals come out at night, and we’re unarmed. The last thing we need is to come across a bear or wolf.

“This is as good a place as any to set up camp,” Striker says.

After we heard the buzz of a small plane, then saw it flying west over a break in the trees, we started in that direction,following the impression of the tire tracks in the dirt until they disappeared, and we weren’t able to locate any more. Viper said they must not travel out here often enough, or use a different route each time, since the tracks faded.

“The plane means a landing strip, and that means the truck was left,” he says, hands on hips, looking up at the night sky.

He would know more than us, since he’s at least had some training. Also, Cook tends to trap him in conversation about his hunting days before he came to the school. Which, as bored and annoyed at Viper looked every time we managed to slip away and leave him, I’m glad he got stuck there because at least he knows something.

Striker drops to the ground in front of me, pulling his knees to his chest. “We need a fire,” he says, “to keep the animals away.”

“Doesn’t fire attract animals?” I ask.

“No clue,” he says with a shrug.

God. We’re so fucked.

“Do you know how to set up a snare?” I ask Viper, who’s now sprawled out on the ground, leaned back on his elbows, so relaxed and uncaring, you’d never know we were sent out to the wilderness unprepared and years too early.

“Yes,” Viper says. His eyes meet mine. “We’ll be fine.”

“The fuck we will,” I say, sitting down. “Reap and Hunter got months to train for this. We have had zero. Do any of us know how to hunt?”

---