Page 117 of Female Fantasy
“An object this powerful?” the false queen cackles. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Because if you do, I will hand myself over to you. Grant Merriah her freedom and take me as your prisoner. You can hurt me all you like. Torture me for information or sport as you wish. Or you can kill me and end this war, the rebellion, here and now. Take my life, but give Merriah back her own.”
All the blood rushes from my head to my heart.
No, only half of my heart. Because the other half is offering his wrists to the siren queen so she can shackle them.
“No!” I scream. “Ryke, if you feel any love for me, I beg of you, do not do this.”
For he means to sacrifice himself to free me.
Does he not know that a world without him is just another prison?
“Minnow,” he says quietly. “It is because I love you that I must.”
The false queen swishes her tail back and forth as she considers his proposal. Tears fall from my eyes, evaporating the second they hit the air in my bubble due to the heat of Talassa’s anger.
“It is an interesting proposition,” she says. “But one question remains.”
“Ask me anything,” Ryke pleads, desperation dripping from his voice. I yearn for the days he taunted me with that signature phrase of his:So many questions.“I will tell you whatever you want to know.”
The corner of the false queen’s lips curls upward.
“Why would I torture you when we both know the very best way to hurt you is by hurting your loch?”
Naia creeps toward me, her white hair blowing behind her in a phantom wind.
“Do you really believe,” Talassa continues, “that I would allow your power source, a weapon that could kill me if it were to fall into the wrong hands, to live even a moment longer?”
With one strong slap of her tail, my air bubble pops.
Distantly, I hear the faint music of Ryke’s screams.
As Naia grabs my shoulders.
And cracks my spine.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Before I can open my mouth to scream, Thomas punches Nico square in the nose. He goes down instantly, his body hitting the pavement with a loud smack.
“Nico!” I cry, reaching for him.
He looks up at me, blinking rapidly. There’s already the ghost of a purple bruise forming below his right eye. When he attempts to speak, he coughs twice, then pulls his hand away from his mouth.
Blood.
My stomach sinks. At the very least, he’s concussed.
“Bind his arms and legs,” Thomas tells Clarisse, who spits out her bubble gum in response. “Then tape his mouth shut. And no weird ranting this time, okay? I’ll search his things. Once we find the book and hand it over to Little Lester, I say we knock this loser out and go. Doubt anyone’s going to careif we rough up this pretty face. Plus, we’re shit kidnappers. Let’s stick to thievin’ from here on out, leave the rest to the Shrug.”
Clarisse inclines her head in my direction. “What about the mouthy chick?”
“Leave her. She’s too dumb to understand what’s going on. Darlin’, she’s the one who got in our car in the first place. We’ve already got the brains behind this operation.”
And even though I fear for Nico’s life, even though I’m furious that these people won’t leave us the hell alone, I can’t help but smile.
Because these C-list villains? They’re underestimating me, just like I knew they would. And that’ll be their downfall.
