Chapter 59 #2
When he did, it was like I’d punched him in the gut. The smile cleared from his face, and he made a sharp, stunned noise. Then the shock cleared, and he twisted his hand, conjuring a fire sword.
“No way,” he snarled. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
He swung.
I ducked.
“How many lives do you have?”
Behind me, Finn conjured a stream of fire. I don’t know if he was aiming at me or Darin. I yanked both their knots free and scrambled behind the cabinets.
There was another tingle of illusion, and I yanked the knots free again.
Then I reached into my pocket and grabbed the pillbox Rou had left me. I opened it, took a deep breath, and jumped out at Finn and Darin. I blew the powder into the air. It hit the both of them in a white, powdery cloud.
They collapsed, both of them convulsing. The kitchen had filled with smoke from the burning grilled-cheese sandwiches. As I jumped over Finn, the smoke alarm blared in a high-pitched shriek.
Darin had white froth leaking from his mouth and blood from his nostrils.
Finn had bitten his tongue, and blood trickled from his mouth.
They were both unconscious. The powder was Rou’s special mix, called “Perk Me Up.” It was a hallucinogenic poison that caused a rapid onset of convulsions and then coma for eight hours.
You woke up nauseous, dry-heaving, with a violent headache from wild hallucinations.
The powder also caused rapid healing if you drank a pinch of it mixed with your tea, which was why Rou had given it to me, but I preferred the self-defense qualities.
Justice and I had accidently discovered the alternate use years ago and had never told Rou her medicine was also a poison.
It only worked on humans, but it did come in handy.
Down the hall, I could hear at least a dozen Smiths sprinting my way. There wasn’t time to find a bedroom and jump under the bed, so instead, I grabbed an empty pot and smashed out the kitchen window. Then I climbed onto the counter and dove onto the sidewalk.
I had maybe a twenty-second head start. I sprinted east, heading toward a long line of apartments. There were plenty of places to hide. Taxis to dive into. I was an idiot. Stupid. I should never have tried to talk to Finn.
I threw my hand in the air and flagged a taxi. I looked over my shoulder—no Smiths yet—and swung to dive into the taxi.
I rammed into another solid chest. The man caught me in his arms, binding me tightly against him.
I stared up, and up, and up, and looked into Finn’s glinting eyes.
“But . . . but . . .”
It wasn’t possible. He was currently convulsing on his kitchen floor, hallucinating about killer bunnies or giant mushrooms. He couldn’t be here.
“Surprised?”
He gave me a wicked smile that made a cold shiver race over the sweat lining my spine. I shoved at him, and he yanked me tighter against his chest.
“Hey! You gonna ride or not?” The taxi driver had rolled down his window and was idling in the street next to us.
“Not,” Finn snapped over his shoulder.
I shoved again, but he’d wrapped me tight. I’d fantasized about him holding me close. This wasn’t gentle though. It wasn’t a hug. It was more like the iron chains that had wrapped themselves around me as I’d sunk to the bottom of the East River.
His grip was too strong to break. He looked down at me with a cruel smile, his black hair fluttering over his forehead.
I felt the pull between us, the golden rope twisted and pulsing. It was there. But I didn’t feel love. I didn’t feel longing. I didn’t feel anything.
“You’re not Finn,” I said.
He laughed. “You asked if I had something to say to you.”
Okay. He was Finn.
I held very still. “And?”
I could feel the thud of his heart against my cheek. The sun was high, and its glare crashed over us, skewering us in its heat. It was unbearable being in Finn’s arms. It hurt. Horribly. But it also felt wrong.
Finn bent his head and pressed his mouth to my temple. A sharp pain tapped my skull. “You betrayed me,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to my hairline. “And it made me cry.”
I looked up at him. There was something odd in the dark growl of his voice. There was something strange and broken in his eyes.
“Let me go,” I said.
We were two people on a sidewalk. To the pedestrians passing by, we probably looked like lovers. They just couldn’t look closely at the blood on my neck or the wild expression on Finn’s face.
“I’m going to kill you. Till death do us part, wife.”
My hot blood turned to ice. “You’re insane. You came back insane.”
“I don’t think so. I feel just fine.” He tilted his head, his eyes shaded from the sun. “But perhaps. You’re the one living in the asylum. You tell me.”
I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t Finn. Since I’d become a mine, he alternated between the man who was stoic and calm and the one who was cruel and murderous. I didn’t know if it was death or the crown that had caused it, but one thing was clear: the Finn in my dreams wasn’t real.
I looked up, my heart racing, my throat tight.
I’d been in more life-or-death situations than most, so I knew the numb feeling racing through me was normal.
Everything had focused to the single pinpoint of Finn’s expression.
The busy street, the cars, the traffic sounds and the smell of exhaust, the pedestrians and the construction—all of it faded in a wash of black. The only thing that remained was Finn.
My heartbeat slowed until I could count the space between each heavy thud. My body loosened and relaxed against him. My eyelids grew heavy, and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Finn,” I whispered, my throat aching.
His gaze caught my mouth, and his eyes narrowed as I let out a long sigh.
“What?”
“You won’t kill me.”
“Why not?”
I stood on my tiptoes, tilting my face so my lips brushed the underside of his jaw. “Because,” I whispered, “I’m going to kill you first.”
Then I shoved my knife into his side. He jerked back, and I kicked free.
I sprinted down the street, diving through an open apartment door.
I raced up the steps, dove past a woman holding a sack of groceries, and sprinted down her hallway into her bedroom.
I scrambled under the bed and dropped into the abyss.
When I landed in the spongy, marrow-white tunnel, I crouched on the ground, wrapped my arms around my knees, and for just a moment, a half-second only, I let myself mourn the loss of the man who used to be Finn.