Page 71 of Scythe & Sparrow
When it finally breaks, I stare into Rose’s eyes. Reality starts to creep back in, one piece at a time. The quiet crackle of static on the TV. The scent of the fog machine. The green and blue lights.
The body on the wall.
The things I’ve done.
Rose. I need to get her out of here.
I pull out slowly, not ready to part, to embrace the dread of the unknown when I’ve just felt the first moments of clarity that I’ve been searching for all my life.
“You need to leave,” I whisper.
Rose props herself up on her elbows, searching my face. Her skin glistens in the dim light with every breath, and I want nothing more than to feel her warmth again. “What do you mean?”
“I need to call someone to help with this,” I say with a nod to the wall behind me as I pull my jeans and briefs up.
“We can do it—”
“Wecan’t, Rose. But I know someone who can help.”
“I can stay. I want to.” A thread of panic weaves its way through her voice when she says, “I don’t want to leave you alone here with this.”
“Rose,” I say, my shoulders falling when she shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m the one who did this, and I’m not going to risk you getting caught up in the aftermath.”
Tears shine in Rose’s eyes as she sits up. “But—”
“Please,” I say, kneeling in front of her. I take her face in my hands. Her lip wobbles with mounting worry and the effort to hold back tears. She tries to shake her head, but I pin her with a serious and steady stare, one that brooks no argument. “I cannot. Risk. You.I will not.Please, Rose. I’m begging you. Just go back to the apartment, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The moment between us could be eternal. Every shift of her glassy eyes between mine, every breath she takes, every motion of my thumb as I caress her cheek. It all embeds itself into my memory. “Okay,” she finally whispers, and I try my best to giveher a reassuring smile. I lean closer. Press my lips to hers. And then I let go.
We pull our clothes back into place. Fix the bed. When we’re done, Rose moves to the door but hesitates. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies. “Are you?”
I smile, though it’s faint and probably not very convincing. “I will be.”
Rose gives me a nod, her eyes tracking toward Cranwell’s body and lingering there before returning to me. “Thank you, Fionn. I … I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
With a final glance that carries the weight of fear and worry behind her eyes, Rose turns away and leaves.
It’s not until I’m sure she’s gone that I make a phone call I never thought I would make.
And then I wait, standing in the center of the room like I’m one of the mannequins, an unmoving statue among the mayhem and madness. It could be five minutes that passes. It could be an hour. I replay every moment of the night on a loop until the sound of approaching footsteps breaks me away.
“Well, well, well,” a voice says from the darkness. I’ve only heard him a handful of times, but I’d recognize the devil anywhere. “Out of everyone, yours is the call I least expected, but the one I most hoped for.”
Leander Mayes steps into the light.
I stand straighter. “Thank you for coming.”
“You Kane boys are so different, and yet, so much the same,” Leander says as he saunters closer. He’s completely at ease in the midst of chaos, much like he was the first time we met. I’dlooked up to see him enter the room as I stitched Rowan’s split lip. Lachlan still had his belt gripped tight around our father’s neck, even though his final heartbeat had long since passed. And Leander grinned then, much in the way he grins now. “You’ve always looked out for one another. Always had each other’s backs. I’m assuming that’s why I’m standing here right now and not Lachlan or Rowan, isn’t that right?”
“I thought you might be more … efficient,” I say, though that’s only a half-truth.
Leander’s gaze pans around us and his smile stretches. When his eyes snag on the mannequins hung up on the wall, Matt Cranwell’s closest to the corner of the room, he laughs. “Oh dear. You’ve been having some fun.”
“Not exactly.” My words feel like a lie.
