Page 88 of This Violent Light
I look between them, but I don’t know who to trust. Before tonight, it would have been Oskar. He was always the easy one. The loyal one. Understanding, dedicated, reasonable.
A fraud. A fucking fraud.
He always did have a way of surprising me.
“I need to negotiate a deal,” I say. I step toward Cora, holding my hand to her. “Will you come?”
Her dark brows lift in surprise. She hasn’t returned to the Day Realm since crashing into me all those years ago. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to. I’ve made a point to never ask…until now.
“Yes, Master,” she says, dipping her head. “Bring Milas. He knows the Echo better than we do.”
It’s a logical choice, unless they’re secretly against me. Then it’s a trap.
“No,” I say. “We’ll take Beatrice and Theo. Amelia and Milas, you stay here. Keep Oskar alive. Grace alone deserves the honor of killing him.”
26
MAYBE OSKAR WAS RIGHT
GRACE
Imay have been a prisoner in Sebastian’s manor, but here, I am less than human. I’m kept in a literal cell, with iron bars and no furniture. I’m forced to sit on the cold stone floor, exposed to frigid air that filters through a gaping window. While it was too dark to see much of anything when I arrived, I know I’m in some sort of village. This building is small, closer to a shack than anything else. From what I can tell, I’m the only prisoner here.
I decide that’s not a good thing.
Perhaps witches don’t have the patience for prisoners. Perhaps everyone who interferes with their laws is slaughtered.
“How long have I been here?” I ask.
It’s still too dark to see. Morning has not come, but I am sure of little else. It could be close to midnight or in the final stages of this blackened sky. I hope there’s still time. As soon as the sun breaks, Sebastian won’t be able to come until evening.
If he comes.
Just because Sebastian didn’t want me to die, doesn’t mean he’s willing to risk his life to save me.
The curse, I remind myself.He needs me to break the curse. He’ll come. He has to come.
I sob against my knees, pulling them tight to my chest. It’s too cold. I don’t know what the temperature needs to be for someone to freeze to death, but I’m sure I must be near it.
“Hello?” I call.
I know someone else is here, if only because he keeps shifting his position near the door. His boots crunch against the gravel, and he occasionally lets out an exasperated sigh, as if my imprisonment is a terrible inconvenience forhim.
“Are you going to kill me?” I ask. My voice falls now, even as I try to keep it steady, strong.
The man appears in front of my cell. He’s one of the men who grabbed me from Oskar, as if I am nothing but cattle for trade. He is young, a few years younger than I am. Despite his cruelty, he looks soft. Rounded features and wide eyes. Is that fear I see in his expression, or is it only wishful thinking?
“I can’t tell you anything,” the man says. His gaze drifts over me before finally settling on my eyes. “You know who you are—whatyou are to us—don’t you?”
“I amno oneto you,” I snap. “If you were smart, you’d send me right back where I came from. Sebastian doesn’t like sharing his toys.”
“Is that what you are?” the man asks. He crouches into the only sliver of moonlight, letting the light shine over his face. He’s handsome, in a plain sort of way. “A toy, Grace?”
“You have no idea what I am,” I say, propping onto my knees. I flex my fingers, both surprised and offended theydidn’t bother binding my hands. “But I assure you, if you keep me here, you’re bound to find out.”
A slow, easy smile crosses the man’s face.
“That’s exactly what we’re hoping.”
