Chapter 24
Deliver Them Up To Slaughter
The lights flickered off and then on.
Shadows, and the brightness that chased them away.
“This stops here!” Everyone was silent by the time Veda shouted from beside Soren, veins bulging at her temples.
“You all should know better—acting like a bunch of spoiled children. Look at the food you’ve wasted!
You’re all getting written up for this. Everyone, clean up!
Dinner is over. Common areas are closed for the rest of the day.
Everyone to their dorms.” When no one moved, she bellowed out a final, “Now!”
Dim whispers and grumbles broke out as the room shifted into a quiet stir.
Soren’s hand tightened around my wrist.
“Ow,” I hissed.
“You,” he spoke low enough for only me to hear, ignoring my cry of pain, “Come with me.”
Soren dragged me out of the cafeteria, following Veda across the hall and into an empty study hall.
Veda shut and locked the door behind us. She rested one hand on her hip as she eyed me.
I squirmed until Soren released my arm, then breathed hard through my teeth, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep the tears from making me look weak in my fury. Looking between the two of them, I couldn’t figure out who I wanted to scream at first.
I hadn’t started the argument. Why was I the one being singled out?
Soren took an impossible step closer, the toe of his black boots bumping against my white sneakers.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded.
Inhale. Exhale.
Growl.
“What was I thinking?!” I yelled and stepped back to make him feel less gargantuan.
I looked at Veda, but she only nodded before turning toward Soren.
“Did you hear the way they were talking to me? Do you have any idea how they treat me? You expect me to sit around and take whatever they dish out? Why am I the one being scolded? I didn’t even start it! ”
Soren shook his head.
“You didn’t start it,” he scoffed, “But you were going to finish it? You don’t even know what Adriel is or what he’s capable of. You think you can fight him in hand-to-hand combat and come out alive? If I hadn’t stepped in, he would have drained you of every last drop of your warm, sticky blood.”
“Yeah,” I shouted, trying to get past him toward the door.
“I do think I can take him, because he won’t lay a hand on me if I take him out with an arrow straight through his nonexistent heart.
” I had every intention of heading straight back to the armory and smashing my way into the glass case housing the Phoenix Bow.
Nothing sounded quite as appealing as setting Adriel on fire and watching him burn to a crisp.
Veda stepped aside, but Soren easily stopped me with his large frame, blocking any chance of me reaching the exit. He leaned down until his mouth was right next to my ear. “What if the one you’re attacking is the devil himself? What then?”
“Then I’ll kill him, too!” I spat in his face.
I pulled back, ready to push, but Veda tugged me away.
“We’re just looking out for you,” she said with her brows furrowed tight.
“Adriel is extremely dangerous. Considering he is an origin vampire, unless the arrow you shoot him with is made of pure quicksilver, you won’t even land a scratch.
And there are lots of people in that room with different opinions about how to handle your existence as a Daughter of the Scepter.
You need to be careful about how you sway their opinion. ”
I yanked my arm out of her grasp and stepped back again.
“I don’t care what people think of me here. I don’t even want to be here, remember? You all can take your Daughter of the Scepter bullshit and shove it up your imaginative asses.”
Veda pressed her mouth into a tight line, then drew in a long, measured breath. When she spoke again, it was the epitome of calm, cool, collected.
“Whether you like it or not, you are a Daughter of the Scepter. And if you want to get back into The Tower—even without my little promise—you need our help. You’ve lost your citizenship, remember?
You don’t have a working Visex, and you are on the most wanted list. Every Mod in The Tower is aching to take you in.
If you want to kill Azazel, you need to play by our rules. ”
“Whose fault is all of that?! Yours! And what rules do you expect me to follow?” I laughed mirthlessly. “Let them bully me and say whatever they want?”
I turned to Soren and jabbed a finger at his overgrown chest. “You’re a liar, you know that?
You said you’d protect me. You haven’t. In fact, you’re one of the biggest reasons they are targeting me after that crap you pulled the first night.
I can’t believe you had the audacity to go and tell other people.
Now, your bombshell of a girlfriend is making my life here a living hell every chance she gets!
If you’re not going to help, you can at least stay out of my way and let me stand up for myself. ”
If my words affected him, Soren showed no sign. Not a flex of his jaw or flare of his nostrils.
Veda, however, reacted with her head swiveling back and forth between us.
“What are you talking about, Elle? Who’s been bullying you?” She finally locked her eyes on Soren. “And what crap did you pull?”
Soren didn’t answer her. His attention stayed on me as he stepped toward the door.
“Go to your dorm. And if I catch you wandering the halls, there will be consequences.”
He opened the door and walked out.
The fucking bastard just walked out, leaving me alone again. So much for all his empty promises. This was why I never bothered to rely on anyone. Not a single soul in this universe would have your back if it didn’t benefit them in some way. No one was selfless.
True sacrifice didn’t exist.
Veda sighed. “Elle, what happened? Adriel and Marigold have been messing with you?”
I didn’t answer. My eyes stayed on the door Soren had disappeared through after issuing yet another command and not once acknowledging what he’d done, or failed to do. Without replying, I stomped off and made sure to slam the study hall door behind me.
Hard.
I allowed myself approximately three minutes of sulking and grumbling once I arrived back in my dorm room, pacing and fuming.
Then I showered, brushed my teeth, and collapsed onto the bed surrounded by a sprawl of textbooks.
Déjà vu hit hours later when I woke and peeled my drool-covered face from the page of a book about Important Figures of the Administration.
I groaned and wiped my palm across my cheek to scrape off some of the dried saliva.
The hall light glowed orange again under the crack of the door. A shiver down my spine clued me in as to why I had woken up. I grabbed the gray blanket draped off the foot of the bed and wrapped myself up in it.
Apparently, I’d slept so long that the bedroom had gone from early autumn to ancient Siberia on a mercurial whim. The thermostat by the door mocked me with 25 degrees Celsius.
Impossible.
I cursed under my breath and wrapped the blanket tighter. It felt more like -2 and a gust of wind pressed achingly against the door.
When the moan of the wind died out, the whistling gave way to the faint sound of someone singing.
It was back.
That damn voice with the same sad song.
I slipped on my runners without socks and turned the knob on the door with a slow, silent crank. I peeked both ways down the hall to check for surprise snakes or a trio of bullies before stepping out into the fiery glow of the sconces and clicking the door shut behind me.
The voice came from the direction of the rotunda. Or beyond.
Part of me wanted to find it.
But then a bigger part of me hatched an entirely new scheme in the span of four breaths.
Ignore the singing. Find a key to the armory and grab some weapons. Get the hell out of Chapel and sneak back into The Tower.
Kill Azazel.
Find Zade.
Then…figure out the rest later.
It just so happened that my best bet at finding a key to the armory lay in the same direction as the singing.
Once in the rotunda, the coincidence dragged on as I followed the voice toward A-Block. Despite getting closer, the singing didn’t seem to get any clearer. Even the volume only increased by a single decibel.
I tried the first three doors, but they were locked. All I needed was one lazy admin to have left their keycard somewhere accessible in their unlocked office. My hand hovered centimeters from the fourth door’s knob when it swung inward.
I froze in the middle of the hallway as if the middle-aged man covered in tattoos coming out of the door marked Onezimuth was a T.
rex and couldn’t see me if I didn’t move.
That was a fun fact I’d learned in second grade that always made me wish I had the chance to test out my ability to be very still.
Freeze or get eaten.
With how still I was, I genuinely believed I could survive a T. rex. Not a hair on my head dared to sway in his view.
Quick. Someone build a time machine. I know somewhere I can finally survive.
Instead of initiating the first successful bout of time travel, we stared at each other without blinking long enough for my eyes to sting.
Finally, the man burst into hushed laughter. Tucking the book in his hand under his arm, he held out the other.
“Onezimuth Pliego.”
I’d only met three Pliegos in my entire life. It was the most minor clan of all, with weird rules about procreation limits. His pale brown skin confirmed his lineage.
“Er.” I shook my head instead of his hand. “I’m just looking for a bathroom? My…toilet is clogged.”
Onezimuth cocked his head to the side and raised a brow.
“Looks more like you’re wandering past curfew, considering the toilets here can’t clog.
” He smiled toothily, his beard bristling with the stretch of his chin.
His voice was warm like hot chocolate but rough with a dash of whiskey or spiced rum.
“Are you looking for something other than trouble?”