Page 89 of Cruel Cravings

He’s who I have become as we approach the Isle of Hurst. We dock at the barren ghost town that’s become of the small sliver of land. The shop windows are shuttered and the roads are empty. The lights are out in every building.

Except for Hurst Manor.

The estate towers over the rest of the isle from behind its iron gates. Gothic spires reach toward the dark sky, their silhouettes jagged against migrating storm clouds. The limestone walls havegrayed with age, and the narrow, arched windows flicker with the only sign of life anywhere to be found.

We step onto solid ground and start toward the manor, our boots crunching against wet gravel.

The security at the gate instructs us to an alternate path for entry. Since we’re not society members—we’re considered part of thehelp—we have to enter through a side entrance.

A man by the name of Timothee meets us.

“Ah, yes. The last ones to arrive,” he says in a dry voice. “The Hostess mentioned she had added a couple last-minute employees. Follow me.”

We follow the caretaker through the large home, up a wide staircase, and then into a room on the third floor. He pushes the door open to reveal a parlor that matches the rest of the house. Dark furniture, ornate wallpaper, and family heirlooms abound.

The Hostess is waiting for us.

She rises from a plush armchair in the same venetian mask she’d worn the other night—ghostly pale with crimson, heart-shaped lips and black voids for eyes. She glides toward us, the robe-like dress she wears fluttering.

“You’re late,” she says, her tone soft but haughty.

I say nothing.

I know her. Her mask could never conceal her real identity.

But that’s the difference between us—she’s hiding her face from the world out of delusion. I hide my face from the world out of acceptance.

Brynne Hurst believes she is hideous.

I am aware I am.

Beside me, Jael tenses up. She doesn’t know these people. She has no experience with the Hostess’s kind, or anyone else in the Midnight Society.

Her focus on finding her sister leaves her vulnerable to any of their nefarious intentions. But I won’t let them take advantage.I’m the buffer between her and the vultures that will inevitably come to feed.

I’ve always been her silent guardian, and that won’t change with this mission to infiltrate the games.

“I hope you’re worth the trouble. Nolan recommended you, and considering it’s my son who… well… ruined your life, I decided to take a chance. And you.” She turns her attention onto Jael for the first time since we’ve arrived. “I will be watching you closely. I’m not sure I believe you don’t know your sister’s whereabouts.”

“Where is she? Where is my sister?” Jael snaps. “Where is he? This Kaden Raskova who’s a member of your club!?”

The Hostess releases a small, derisive laugh. “Darling, your guess is as good as mine. We shall certainly see if Kaden finally makes his reappearance at these games, won’t we? He knows where and when. He has many things to answer for, including what he did to the Owner.”

We’re dismissed once the Hostess grows bored. Timothee returns to collect us while Jael signals she wants to stay and confront the Hostess more.

I grab her by the wrist and drag her along at my side.

As badly as she wishes to find her sister, confronting the Hostess won’t produce any favorable results. If we’re to find out where Kaden and Lyra have gone, we’ll have to be more strategic.

Move in silence.

Something Jael is not used to, as she blurts whatever comes to mind and is often so energetic and off-the-cuff, she’s too much to handle for most.

But it’s what’s always drawn me to her.

The spark that lives inside her. The constant hope that can’t be diminished. The uniqueness that’s her and her only.

Our rooms are underground, a few corridors over from where the players are being kept. The employees of the games can’t be seen outside of working hours. That would be unpalatable to the rich and powerful guests attending the games.

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