Page 14 of Petals for Deadly Power

A chill ran through her veins, placating the warm adrenaline rush into an icy fury. The eyes of the dead woman were closed, but Hope had a feeling they were black like hers.

The Organ Mandor had done a public mock assassination of his daughter.

“Does he know we are here?” Hope asked, her voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions cascading inside her.

“He can’t know that. The house is invisible to unwanted eyes.” Ciaran didn’t falter, his clenched teeth marking his strong jaw. “He has chosen the busiest part of his city to make a public threat.”

Even if the beings looking at the corpse, covering their mouths and whispering, had no idea who the threat was for, and what it was for.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, his voice tense, on edge like his shadows and his temper.

Hope knew all too well who had sent her bleeding ink. Her bleeding arm was nothing compared to the innocent, lifeless woman left on display for the citizens of Corentre to see. For the citizens of Corentre tofear.

She read his ink with a devastating repulsion and hatred towards the sender, and a nauseating frustration at not being able to stop his words on her flesh.

Her blood froze.

It was wrong.

It was so wrong that he could invade her body like that. It felt almost like a violation. It was a wicked, disgraceful intrusion.

Ciaran’s eyes widened as he read the ink before Hope Gave herself a bandage. He looked at her, an angry and concerned frown making his eyebrows get closer. “This is not the first time he’s sent you ink.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation.

“It’s not,” Hope confirmed.

Ciaran’s blue eyes darkened with the promise of the painful and long death Hope was planning on giving the Organ Mandor.

Until now, she had found the bleeding inks unnerving but useful to keep track of how lost and desperate Rhei Coralt was to find them. To findher. But this . . . This sadistic exhibit of wickedness and barbarity was too much.

“Is there any way to stop his inks from coming?”

Ciaran grabbed the rail of the balcony, the muscles of his biological arm tensing. “He is very powerful. I can show you how to block incoming inks, but he might still break the glass.”

“It’s worth trying,” she said. “We can do that another day.” She wasn’t in the mood for any lessons right now.

“Please come with me,” he said, as he moved his hand, and dark green sparks went flying through the door in different directions.

Hope had seen him use that trick to gather people a few times before. Each spark would find a person and lead them towards where Ciaran was.

Shortly after, his sparks had gathered everyone in the living room.

Ayla had a gentle hand on Nina’s shoulders. Nina’s eyes were still red, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

Raoul had walked by himself, Indianna hovering next to him in case he needed an extra hand.

Lenna sat on Jake’s legs, her lips tight in a line that promised serious trouble if required. Jake’s hands were laced around her waist, and Hope didn’t miss the dark cloth covering his forearm. It looked like she wasn’t the only one receiving bleeding inks from their father.

Brendon and Sasha sat in the same chair, both using half the seat and looking surprisingly comfortable considering half their legs were unsupported.

From the empathetic stares around the room, Hope knew the word must have spread about what happened at the Sweetgum Beech.

Ciaran looked around the room, his jaw set firmly, and his blue eyes narrowed. When he finally spoke, his words were a declaration.

“Enough researching and planning. There is a man who needs to be killed, and it better be soon, or I will lose my fucking mind. We’re going to get the Fifth Power.”

8

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