Chapter Ten
The next morning, I stood in the entrance to the demon mess hall—staring at the same sight that transfixed us all.
Lyall and four of the werewolves who threatened and blackmailed Tristan... were lying in a circle on the mess hall floor.
They were so untouched and serene, you could almost believe they were sleeping, if it wasn’t for the fact there were two holes in their heads where their golden wolf eyes were supposed to be, and the bloody mark of the Avos coven in the middle of their circle.
“What is going on?” I rasped. “Who is doing this?! Why!”
“I cannot answer you,” Sabrina replied, gazing at the scene with the same solemn quiet. “But I can say that the picture is becoming clearer.”
“What? How?”
“The ssspilling of demon blood, the piercing of a vampiric heart, the plucking of shifter eyes,” she hissed, “and always, always, always in groups of five. Charlotte—”
I startled at her saying my name for the first time.
“I don’t believe this is wanton murder, or a campaign of intimidation and fear. I believe this... is a ritual.”
“A ritual?”
“Yes,” she whispered—speaking almost to herself.
“A ritual that could not begin until all of the pieces were in place. A ritual... that is far from over.” Sabrina slithered out from my shirt.
“I need to look closer. This may be my only chance before the staff throw you all out and lock down the room.”
“But—”
“What the fuck?” someone muttered. “Why’d the bitch dump these dogs here? The mutts have their own mess hall.”
“If I ventured a guess...” Ronin’s shadow fell over me. “I assume it’s because someone in particular is supposed to be greeted with this sight before they choke down their breakfast.”
I turned around—we all did—as Tristan entered the room.
Tristan took one look at the horrible scene, and stopped.
A million emotions flashed across his face in a split second—shock, disbelief, rage, horror, and so many more I couldn’t name.
My lips parted to say... something! Anything! Tristan called Lyall brother. Were they really siblings? Did Tristan really wake up today readying to face a fight to the death with his brother, and instead found his brother dead on the floor after being murdered by the serial killer?
Whatever the truth was, he needed a friend, and that is what I made up my mind to be for him.
Something flitted through the crush of the crowd, drawing my eyes away from Tristan and locking on to hers.
All the air punched out of my gut.
Dora blinked at me—eyes huge, then turned and ran.
“D-Dora?” I croaked. “Dora!”
I took off running, chasing her through the darkened halls. Flickering candlelight skimmed her form, barely gracing her as if wanting to spare me the sight. And it was pity I needed.
Dirty, torn feet left bloody footprints on the carpet—so clear even though the fabric was dark.
Dora wore the same clothes she had on the night she was taken.
Once a beautiful dress chosen for her proudest day, it was now nothing more than foul-looking rags, barely hanging on to her skeletal frame.
Her hair was a tangled mess. Her arms were covered in welts.
And for the brief moment I saw her face, it was swollen and streaked with tears.
Oh, gods, what’s been done to her!
“Dora, wait,” I cried as she whipped around the hall corner. “Wait!”
I ran faster, sprinting through the hall and shouting her name uncaring of who might hear.
“Dora, why won’t you stop? It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?”
Saying those words punched sense into my head. Of course she didn’t recognize me. All she could see was some horrific green demon chasing her through the halls. She must be terrified thinking I’m going to grab her and drag her back to her captor.
“Dora, it’s me! It’s—” My name clogged in my throat, my tongue held back by sudden warning.
Just because I was chasing Dora, didn’t mean someone wasn’t chasing me. Shouting out, “it’s me, Charlie, your sister,” could break the glamour—and then my vampire stalker would be on me and ripping out my throat in a moment.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tried instead. “I’m a friend, so please, let me help—”
Dora veered sharply right into a branching hall and climbed the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
Gritting my teeth, I stopped my bellowing and picked up the pace—charging up the stairs after her. It’s okay, sis. I’m here now. I’m bringing you home.
Bang!
The sound of a door swinging into stone echoed through the narrow, winding staircase. I caught a glimpse of Dora’s foot before she jumped over the threshold and into the rush of hot, burning air.
“Dora!” I hit the top step and leaped through the door, skidding to a halt. “Dora?”
Whipping around, I spun on my heels—making sense of my surroundings. I was on the roof—
No, a tower, I thought, recalling the sweeping black turrets that dominated my view the first time I set foot onto Abaddon Academy grounds. This is the east tower—
My heart stopped.
—and I’m the only one here.
“Dora,” I screamed, racing to the edge. Where did she go? Where could she have gone? Did she jump? Oh, Hera, please, tell me she didn’t jump! “Dora!”
“What the fuck’s a Dora?”
I spun around.
Iarla Ravenscar stepped onto the floor, resplendent in white-and-gold robes and jeweled boots. Every inch of him was perfection from his long, gold-spun locks to his piercing eyes. Everything was perfect... except for the nastiest smirk on a human-like face that I’d ever seen in my life.
“What’s going on?” My voice was thin and reedy from screaming. “What are you doing here?”
“What? You can’t guess, you ignorant little worm?”
My jaw clenched. Yeah, this guy was still the most unpleasant dude I’d ever met.
“Then, how about I give you a hint?” Ravenscar turned around and picked up something obscured behind the door.
I gasped, clutching my mouth to stop a scream.
Ravenscar held up the cage—proud like he was presenting a trophy to a parent. Inside, the sweet imp who pranked us and wanted to play with me... was reduced to a bloody, battered lump.
The poor creature couldn’t even hold up his head, he was so badly beaten. He still didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to for me to know that the small, weak noises coming from him were sobs.
“See?” He laughed right in my face. “You’re not the only one around here who can tame an imp.”
“Are you insane!” I screamed. “What did you do to him?! He’s harmless. He only wanted to play!”
“Play?” Iarla’s smirk vanished fast. “You call burying me under a mountain of shit playing?!”
“He only did that because you’re an ass!
” I’d never exploded on someone like this before.
Not even when Lucifer stood in my kitchen taunting me did I feel this much rage.
First Dora, and now this sweet little creature?
It was just too much. “You know what? You’re the fucking diseased worm, you shit fucking fuck!
” I screeched, shredding my no-cursing rule to pieces.
“You’re batshit fucking insane crazy, the imp was only dumping more shit on you so that you could stuff it into your empty skull! ”
Iarla whistled, laughing away. “Uh-oh. Someone’s mad. Whatever this little beast showed you to get you up here must’ve really set you off.”
I stumbled back, bashing against the edge. “What?” I croaked. “What did you say?”
“It was an illusion, dumbass. Duh.” I cried out when he flung the cage none-too-gently on the floor. “Fae need an object important to the target to create an illusion specific to them, but I searched your shithole of a room and everything you own is brand new.” He kicked the cage.
“Stop it!”
“Thankfully,” Iarla breezed on, “that son of a horse-fucking whore gave up this imp for only two bottles of mulled faerie wine.” He scoffed. “You demons really are sluts for your senses. Anything that feels good, smells good, or tastes good, and you’re head and ass up.
“Either way, it all works out for me. Because now I get to punish him...” He leveled a finger between my eyes. “...and you.”
I huffed hard through my nose, tears crowding my lids. “Punish me? Punish me for what?” My voice was hard. “I didn’t do a damn thing to you. I don’t even care about you. Frankly, the little interaction we’ve had in the past week was one exchanged syllable too many.”
“Oooh,” he crowed, eyes dancing. “So you’re tough even without your little mutt backing you up? Good for you, but it’s about time we wrapped this up, so jump.”
A loud roaring sounded in my ears. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Those beautiful eyes were dead. “Jump.”
“Are you crazy?” I shot away from the edge. “I’m not jumping!”
“You sure about that?” Iarla plucked out a feather and pointed at the cage.
Before my eyes, the delicate wispy thing transformed into a huge, white double-sided axe.
“Because if you refuse again, I’ll kill this nasty little thing you’re so in love with.
And if that still doesn’t convince you, I’ll find your mutt boyfriend and lop off his head too.
“And if you’re still refusing, maybe then I’ll go and find this Dora you were shouting about?” That foul grin was so at odds with his beautiful face. “I’ll bet me and Dora’ll have a lot of fun together.”
I didn’t have to see my face to know the look in my eyes was terrible. “You keep Dora’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, prick. I’m not one of your simpering sycophants, bitch. I’m not afraid of you.”
Iarla’s smile went nowhere. “You managed to say that without your voice shaking, but your knees didn’t quite get the memo.” He tapped the cage with the axe, making the little creature whimper louder. “Jump.”
I considered for a moment.
But only for a moment.
Climbing onto the ledge, I jumped.
“What the fuck! The crazy bastard actually—”
The rest of Ravenscar’s exclamation was swallowed by the rushing, roaring wind swamping my ears, and attempting to hold me up with invisible hands.
I plummeted more stories than I could count, pinching the scream between my teeth.
“Agh!”