Page 23 of Blood

Cynthia used to live with me back at Prodigium Academy. As the Woman in White, she has the ability to, um, remove her limbs the way you would a Mr. Potato Head. More than once, I helped her frantically search for her correct pair of breasts.

Friends who look for tits together, stay together.

We’ve had our differences, but when Cynthia found her true mate, she completely transformed. She no longer held on to any bitterness or heartache over losing Mason to me.

Mason...

The thought of my gorgon mate has tears prickling the backs of my eyes—hot iron brands that scald my sensitive lids.

I sniff and attempt to turn my body, so Alex can’t see the glassy sheen in my eyes.

We stand just outside the Field Museum—a respectable twenty feet away, as dictated by security when they found and banned us from the premises. The sun has officially crested the skyscrapers dotting the horizon, a metal jungle of huge buildings and construction machinery. Between the honking of horns, the rattling of trams, and the giggling of pedestrians, I can barely hear myself think, let alone have a conversation with Cynthia.

I move slightly, so I’m hidden from view, leaning my back against the mottled bricks.

“God, Cynthia, there’s so much I need to tell you.”

“You got that right, bitch,” she says. “And you can’t see me right now, but I totally ripped off my lips and turned them upside down. I’m pissed at you.”

“I know—”

“How the fuck did you turn into a wanted criminal in the brief time I’ve been away? And you won the motherfucking Roaring? I mean...what?! How did this happen?” Cynthia continues to ramble on and on about all the shit I’ve been up to while she’s been gone, but I can’t help but zone her out.

My thoughts, as always, stray to Mason.

He was the main reason why we began fighting in the first place. Cynthia always had an unreciprocated crush on my mate and was devastated when he didn’t return her affections. I know she no longer holds the same affection for him as she once did, but I wonder...

How will she react to the news that he’s dead?

Will her heart shatter into thousands of miniscule pieces, so tiny that the slightest breeze can send them scattering away like ash?

Will she cry for hours on end, praying for a death that will never come, asking any God in the heavens to be merciful and give him back to her?

Will she think of all the things she could’ve done to save his life?

Or maybe...

Maybe that’s just me.

Maybe all the guilt and pain have compounded into one acerbic, toxic emotion that makes breathing impossible.

Mason died to break me.

And it very nearly did.

Hell, it still might.

There’s a pain in my chest that can’t quite abate, no matter what I do. The gaping chasm continually grows and grows, turning into an endless abyss that sucks me in and refuses to spit me back out. I’m drowning in my sorrows, and my demons are all too happy to feast on my broken, tarnished soul.

“Hello? Violet? Are you there?” Cynthia’s shrill voice breaks me out of my melancholic trance and catapults me back into reality. “Did you get distracted by something shiny? Violet, I told you before. If you see a penny in the middle of the road, don’t try to run for it. Cars are fast. You may not die, but it’ll still hurt like a bitch when you get run over.”

“What? No...no pennies.” I shake my head, hoping to disperse some of the cotton balls that have formed there. “I actually called to ask you for a favor.”

Cynthia’s so silent that I believe she hung up on me. I actually check the phone twice to make sure I didn’t lose connection.

“Cynthia?”

“I’m still here.” Her tone is sharp.

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