Page 44 of Mostly Shattered

But do I really want to go through this again? What happens if time is reset? What if I’m not enough? The thought of falling deeper into the supernatural world—into that scary realm beneath the mausoleum—makes my stomach churn. I can only imagine what is down there, and it terrifies me.

Costin wants me to follow him, to trust him. But how can I trust someone who’s part of this prophecyI never wanted? A master vampire at that. Humans shouldn’t trust vampires, that’s kindergarten stuff.

And yet, what choice do I have?

I try not to let myself think about Paul. Even if I get the opportunity to pursue that life, I don’t think I should. This prophecy business proves that. I need to let him go. Maybe everyone else is right, and I need to lean into the supernatural protection that my family can offer. Maybe it’s time to grow up and embrace my responsibilities. I can only hope that does not mean marrying Chester.

The last page is an illustration. It’s difficult to tell, but I think it depicts people dying in a river of lava coming from a volcano. This is the one page I didn’t drop blood on to translate. I search the details for clues, but don’t see any. I’m not sure it will do any good, and I’m not exactly sure I want to see what it has to say, but I scratch at the scab covering one of the puncture wounds from Costin’s bite.

Taking a deep breath, I glance nervously around the room, looking for Conrad. I don’t see him. Squeezing a little blood out of my hand, I tap it against the page.

Chapter

Ten

Nothing happens.

The smear of my blood soaks into the page. I stare at the lava river, not seeing any changes. There don’t appear to be any answers hidden within the drawing.

I hear a click on my door, and it creaks open to reveal a sliver of freedom.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I hop up from the bed and grab my sneakers, phone, and the prophecy book. Clutching them to my chest, I rush to escape the bedroom.

I don’t know who opened the door, and I don’t care. All I know is I can’t be here tonight to sign a betrothal agreement.

Conrad is not waiting for me in the hallway.

The penthouse feels stifling, allmarble and glass reflecting the luxury of my family’s world. The chandeliers overhead glitter, casting a soft light over the spotless surfaces. Yet all I can see are the invisible cracks underneath—the secrets, the manipulations, the expectations. This is the life they want me to live, trapped in a cage of wealth and power. But none of it matters—not Mortimer’s premonitions or my engagement to Chester—not with what’s coming.

I clutch the prophecy book tighter, feeling its weight in my hands, and for a moment, I wonder if this could be all just a bad dream. The thick windows silence the sound of the city below. Not for the first time, I think we’re living in a bubble, disconnected and lifted from the chaos outside.

But I know that bubble is about to burst.

I feel the floor tremble beneath my feet and instantly reach for the wall to steady myself. It is a strange sensation, but it stops as quickly as it begins. I continue to make my way toward the elevators. I stay close to the wall and keep my head down so as not to draw attention. I hear sounds from the kitchen and assume that Howard is preparing for tonight’s party.

I call up the elevator and use the time waiting to tug on my sneakers. The elevator dings its arrival, and I flinch at the noise. The second the door opens,I slip inside.

“Whose there?” I hear my father’s voice as the doors shut.

I press against the corner so he doesn’t see me.

I shove my phone into my back pocket and lift my shirt to tuck the book into my waistband. It’s not comfortable, but I let my T-shirt hide it from view.

I watch the numbers count down from the penthouse. I’ll figure out a place to hide out until dusk, when I can meet Costin by the mausoleum.

Errrrrrrrch.

A loud groan sounds overhead, and the elevator jerks. I grab onto the handrail, gripping tight as I stare at the lighted numbers. I’m only halfway down.

Err. Err. Errrrch. Screech.

The metal box vibrates and shudders, only to lurch several times. It tosses me around as I lose my footing. My hands shake as I try to hold on. The numbers tick down slowly. I think everyone, at one point or another, has imagined what it would be like to have the cables in an elevator snap. It seems like it would be a pretty common fear. I never actually thought that fear would become real.

The screeches turn to grinds as if the metal is scraping against metal. The shaking stops, and I feel like I’m moving faster. The numbers tick by one after the other, blinking at a speed that cannot be safe.

“Help!” I yell, the sound coming out more like a scream than a word.

My body suddenly becomes light, as if I’m in free fall. My stomach does little flips, and my heart beats so hard I feel like I might throw it up. I scream as the elevator barrels down toward the lobby. I close my eyes tight as I approach the final countdown. Suddenly, gravity returns, and I fall to my knees, still gripping the rail. I feel tears on my face, and I can’t move. I can’t force my eyes to open.

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