Page 25 of Boy of Ruin
But my brothers won’t let me go after her. Drag her pretty little ass out of his mansion at the edge of Alexandria. I know they don’t want to start a war with Order of Rain. Like it or not, he controls a lot of underground crime in this city. But more than that, they won’t let me, because right now, they claim, she’s better off with him. They think I’m fucking losing my mind.
I lost that a long time ago.
Still, I’m supposed to wait until Ignis. Four weeks from now, when we can’t wait anymore.
That’s not gonna fucking happen.
Maverick rolls his eyes and turns his head to me, but before he can speak, his phone rings through the speakers, making us both flinch.
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, answering the call from the steering wheel. I see Elijah’s name on the dashboard console, and I lean my head back against the seat, turning to stare at nothing out my window.
“What’s up?” Maverick asks quietly.
“Get to Sanctum,” Elijah’s deep voice rumbles through the car.
Maverick is already starting the engine, putting the car in drive, but he still says, “We don’t have the fuck. What’s going on?”
There’s a pause as Maverick cruises through the quiet, sleepy street and I imagine what it would be like to have a life like this. A normal one. Free of Satanic rituals, cult secrets, and a goddamn wife that would rather fuck her foster brother than me.
It would be nice, I think.
It’d be really fucking nice.
I hear Elijah blow out a breath and I tense, reaching for the skeleton bandana around my neck. A nervous habit made worse when I’m in withdrawals.
“Just get here.” Elijah ends the call without another word, and Maverick floors it out of this nice, normal subdivision, away from the type of life I’ll never have.
Pulling through the gates at Sanctum, my stomach flips. I thumb the lighter in my hand, watching the flame spark, then go out, over and over. A distraction from that cemetery behind the church. From the unmarked grave I never want to do anything to except take a fucking piss on.
Maverick double parks behind Cain’s Camaro, cutting the engine and turning toward me.
I don’t look at him.
Just keep fucking around with my lighter, gritting my teeth, as if grinding my molars to dust will keep everything in my head back.
Mav sighs and I tense, watching the light spark up.
Go out.
“You ready?” he asks quietly.
I bring my thumb over the dented ridge. Spark up. Go out.
Another loud exhale from the driver’s side. “We have to go in.”
I go to ignite the lighter again, but it’s just a ghost of a flame. Shaking it, I try one more time.
Nothing.
I curl my fingers around it and turn to look out my window, at the expansive lawn of Sanctum, dark and brooding. No light, three in the morning is the devil’s hour.
I can feel it, even now. The hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My heart shooting out of my chest. Could be left over from the blow I did back before Mav picked me up, but I doubt it. My body has probably already burned through that.
This is dark magic I feel, on this desecrated ground.
Memento mori. Like the reminder of death calling.
Beckoning, really. Sometimes, I think it’d be for the best.
