Page 220 of Deviant

Harper.

Andy.

Abbie.

And now, Elias.

Blackwater Falls took everything from me.

And now that I get to leave, I imagine it burning to the ground so it can’t steal another life again and sacrifice it toThe Scourge.

But I know that will never happen.

Next year, this twisted game will repeat itself with brand new contestants to suffer its wrath.

I pity all those involved.

For this is the place where souls go to die.

Chapter 39

Rowen

“Have you ever been to New York before?” the limo driver asks, trying to make small talk.

“No,” I answer, hating that he slid down the partition after our little stop at the gas station where I got cleaned up and changed.

He’s been talking nonstop since then, completely uncaring that I’m in no mood to chit-chat. The dried blood on my clothes should have been his first clue that making polite small talk was something that didn’t interest me. Not in the least.

“You are going to love it here. This city just has that energy about it. A person can really get lost amongst the crowd here,” he states, his gaze staring at me through his rearview mirror.

“Good to know,” is my curt reply.

“I’m just saying. There are worse places to be in.”

“And just exactly where are you taking me?” I ask, since I had no say in the matter.

Henry told me that I could ask the driver to take me anywhere I wanted, but the option was taken away from mewhen the chauffeur announced his precise orders were to drive me to New York.

“The Ritz-Carlton. Doesn’t come any fancier than that. You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” I lie.

“We’re just five minutes away, unless you want me to take you somewhere else first?”

“No, the hotel will be fine.”

He nods and continues on with our journey.

Five minutes later, just as the chauffeur had predicted, we arrive at The Ritz-Carlton, the doorman opening the limo door for me like I was royalty.

“This is going to take a little bit of getting used to,” I say as I step out of the car, the driver rushing to the rear to take my backpack from the trunk.

“You all say that,” the chauffeur lets slip, making me realize that I’m not the only one he’s driven from Blackwater Falls to this hotel.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say with the fakest of smiles I can muster.

“Not a problem. Here’s my card in case you get lost in the city.”

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