Page 97 of This Violent Light
Right now…
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Did they hurt you? Have you eaten? You look?—”
“They know about my brother,” she says. Her words come in a babbled rush as she stumbles to the cell door. Her trembling fingers twist around the rungs, and she presses as close to me as she can. Her smell—decadent and alluring—wraps itself around me.
Good. Let it fucking stain my clothes, my skin, my hair.
Her words finally catch up to me. Her brother?
“You can’t let them find him,” she says. She widens her eyes and gives me a knowing look. “They’re going to kill him, just like they’re going to kill me.”
Smart, cunning little witch.
This is how she escaped, how she convinced them not to murder her.
I cup the side of her face, running my thumb along her cheekbone. She closes her eyes, and a tear races down her cheek. A heavy sob rattles her chest, and she falls against the bars, crying until her entire body shakes.
“You’ll be okay,” I tell her.
“If only you were fae,” she whispers. “I might believe you.”
She tries to smile through her tears. She’s spoken those words before, an echo of my own monstrosity.
I catch her tears with my thumb.
“I may not be fae, Grace, but you can trust me.”
With one hand still on her face, I tangle the other through her hair, pulling her close. Our lips meet between the bars, and I kiss her the way I’ve dreamt of for days. I allow myself one moment longer, and then, I do what I came here to do.
Her eyes widen in shock, but I kiss her through it, holding her still.
As soon as I’m done, I pull back, using my hands to keep her jaw shut.
“Be a good girl,” I tell her firmly.
I stare at her, praying to every god the Echo has that she understands. That for just this once, she listens without hesitation.
I watch as her throat bobs, as she swallows.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
I release her and step back.
“Two minutes are up!” Lyrie calls. “Now keep your word for once andgo.”
“I will,” I say. I grab the cell door by its frame, pulling as hard as I can. It snaps off like it’s made of parchment. Magicswirls around me, violent and hungry, biting against my skin. “But I’m taking her with me.”
“You’ll kill her!” Lyrie screams.
“That’s the plan.”
Grace’s eyes widen as I lunge into the cell, grabbing her by the shoulders. She lets out a tiny yelp as I force her through. And then, she collapses. A puppet with cut strings, she falls limp in my arms.
Those pretty blue eyes stare up at nothing. Lifeless. Gone.
Just like that.
“Let’s go!” Theo shouts. He lunges for the nearest guard and rips his esophagus from his throat.
