Page 173 of Seeking Shadows

"Well, let’s see how long this passion lasts. Throw them in the mansion's cell. Maximum surveillance."

His men seize me, dragging me away. The pain makes my vision go white.

"Don't give Mia any food," Nico orders. "Take care of his wounds. Keep him alive, but keep her hungry. Let’s see how long it takes before you become another one on her list."

CHAPTER 28

MIA

Katie told usanother story today.

This time it was about Pinocchio, the boy who wanted to be real. He had a talking cricket that told him what to do and a cat named Figaro. Figaro was cute. I liked him. But I liked Pinocchio more.

I understood him.

Because I want to be real too. I want to stop feeling like a doll, like something made of wood and string, something that doesn't move unless someone tells it to.

One doesn’t care much for stories. He just waits for Katie to stop talking so she’ll let us watch TV. We have a small one. The people inside it live in a different world, where there’s always sunlight and big houses with flowers outside.

I wonder if we’ll ever get to see that world.

The clock beside our bed beeps at midnight, and I grin.

“One! One, wake up!” I bounce excitedly on the mattress, my voice barely above a whisper. I count the lines scratched into the wall, the ones Katie marks for our birthdays. We don’t know if her name is really Katie. She can’t confirm, so we had to guess.

We heard the name on TV once, so we gave it to her. She didn’t argue. It’s better than calling her Twelve, like they want us to.

“It’s our birthday,” I whisper. “We can have the cake now.”

One blinks at me, then sits up, rubbing his eyes.

Katie is allowed to leave. She went out today and brought back a small piece of cake. She said we could eat it when the clock struck twelve. It smelled like vanilla. It smelled sweet.

I scramble out of bed and open the cabinet, but my smile fades.

There’s no cake.

A fat, greasy rat sits where it should be, its tiny hands clutching crumbs. Its whiskers twitch. It looks up at me.

I scream.

Before I can even move, One grabs the rat in his fist. There’s a sharp crunch, bones snapping like twigs, and then the sound of wet, tearing flesh. Blood drips from his fingers.

I sniffle, staring at the mess where my cake should be.

“Don’t cry, Mia,” One says, wiping his hand on his shirt. “I kept my piece somewhere else. You can have it.”

I brighten, turning to him. “And you? Won’t you eat?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Nico says sweet things make us weak.”

“Oh.”

I crawl back into bed and pull the blanket over my head. The room feels darker now, the shadows stretching longer. I don’t like the dark.

“Can you stay here with me?” I whisper. “Just for tonight?”

One doesn’t argue. He lies down next to me, his warmth steady and real. The smell of blood lingers, but I don’t mind.

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