Page 18 of This Blood That Breaks Us
“Reaped?” Luke asked.
“Oh yeah, sent to Her Gloriousness, of course.”
Luke’s face went white.
“It doesn’t happen to many. A lot of the guys here never had any family. It’s an honor, really, to have someone I could sacrifice to Her Magnificence.”
Luke said nothing, but I saw it all over his face. He wanted to grab this kid and run out of the castle, as if we weren’t also fucked and Ezra wouldn’t pop up like the boogeyman the moment we set foot outside.
“Don’t look so concerned, sir. He had a bad drinking habit. I kinda hope he isn’t with Her eternally like She said. I secretly hope he’s rotting in hell somewhere.” His shrill laugh echoed in the hallway.
I cleared my throat to stop the little fucker from talking another minute. “Connell, what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”
Drinking was about the only thing Luke and I did for fun anymore. We’d never had a lot of hobbies in common, but back in Brooklyn, we could watch movies or take the girls out. None of which could ever be done again after Sarah died. Luke and I couldn’t even sit still long enough to watch a thirty-minute TVshow, let alone a whole movie. Unless Presley strapped us down to watch hisTwilightmarathon.
“Oh, we could go to The Underground! That’s where a lot of the guys hang out at this hour. It’s downstairs. I’ll show you.”
We followed. Luke watched the back of Connell’s head, quietly creating another plan.
“Don’t do it,” I said.
“I’m not.”
Connell walked ahead of us talking, and neither of us listened.
“You can’t save him, Luke. We can barely save ourselves right now.”
“But . . . he reminds me of Presley.”
That did it. My whole body ached with a sharp pain that made my stomach turn. I stopped walking.
“Okay, rule. No talking about them. No saying their names. No bringing up old memories.”
“But—”
“Please,” I said to the only person I’d ever whisper that word to.
He nodded and we walked on.
Connell knew it all. Where and why they selected every painting on the walls. The type of wallpaper. How old the stonework on the fountain was. Luke agreed when Connell offered to give us a tour tomorrow afternoon, and I had to act like it wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard.
He led us through the garden. There were rows and rows of budded flowers being suffocated by the falling snow. We passed a stone gondola, and next to the castle was a wooden cellar door.
“Did you bring us here to kill us, Connell?”
He snorted. “Good one, sir!”
“Someone finally thinks I’m funny.” I smiled at my brother as he rolled his eyes and pushed me through the door.
It was an old wine cellar bathed in red lights and cigar smoke, and there was music. Perfect. Only, the room went silent as we entered. Everyone fell on one knee before I could blink. Even the ones who looked too drunk to say their own name.
“This way to the bar. What’ll you have? We have nothin’ but top-shelf liquor.”
“Whiskey. Neat.”
“Beer. Any kind,” Luke said.
“Plus, two shots. Surprise me,” I said
