Page 150 of Terror Tuesday
My arms wrap around him for a moment, taking in his frame. Letting myself be soothed by his presence.
He nods toward the corner. “Let’s move before someone notices.”
“Okay,” I manage to whisper, like a different person. Someone else has taken over inside of me, and I’m no longer the same.
This Olivia doesn’t give a shit about the rules or perfection. In fact, when he puts my arms through his tattered sweatshirt, I barely register that I’m still naked.
My form excels when it’s covered in blood.
But I pull the shreds of fabric toward my waist and tie the loose ends together. It’s so long, it reaches mid-thigh.
“Vanessa atalanta,” Valen says, his eyes studying my frame. He brushes my hair from my face and grips my upper arms.
“What?”
“The red admiral.”
He laces his fingers through mine and tugs me toward the door. It’s locked, but he stoops to check the pockets of the dead men and finds a key.
“What are you saying?”
With the boyish grin I’ve seen on Elliot’s cute face, he glances up and says, “You. You’re the red admiral,Vanessa atalanta. No longer just theMonarch. You commanded this scene with skill and courage. We’ll find you some pants. And a way out of here.”
“You must really love butterflies,” I say with a quivering smile and head still on a swivel.
When he opens the door and carefully checks both ways in the hall, he reaches for me, letting me know it’s safe. “Only your kind.”
I think he’s weird. And I never thought Olivia Marie Cardell would fall in love with a quirky man.
But I now like it.
“Here!” He points toward a door behind the room we were just in. Inside are our gear, weapons, and my clothes. I hurriedly slip on my pants and grab my gun, and he does the same. ExceptVanq pulls on his old mask, and I shiver, looking into it with anticipation of what we’re about to do.
One of his fingers taps the outside of my knotted fist. “It’s probably better to use this…for stealth.”
I nod and glance down the darkened stone hall. “The crypts?”
“Looks like it. And I wonder if they’ll lead us to where we need to go.”
Halfway down the narrow passageway, a candle flickers in a metal sconce. Valen pulls it off the wall and uses it to explore further.
“Which way?” I whisper, unsure what’s around each corner.
“No idea. Figured we’d pick this one and see where it heads.” His other hand holds the pistol at the ready. I haven’t let my father’s gift leave my grip since I got it back.
The only sound is a high-pitched wail of wind. A heavy scent of mildew clogs my nostrils. It smells the same as the time I was down here and met Vanq on the altar of bones.
“Who was that cloaked man that stood in front of the president’s bedroom, you think?” I ask, voice cracking at remembering the scene before we were taken.
“He’s causing chaos, whoever he is. Bartender or not, he’s working for the president in some capacity.”
I can’t help but snort.
Valen arches an eyebrow at me with a question.
“It won’t matter soon,” I tell him.
His green eyes are steady as he gives me a knowing smile. “No, my queen. It won’t.”
