Thirty-Six Ella #2
I look at Corinda and can see that she’s more devastated than exhausted now.
Her lashes are wet, and there’s a smear of dirt along her jaw that makes her look young and fragile.
She’s still out, head rolling to the side.
I press my palms to the arms of the chair until my knuckles go white.
“How could you kill your own mother?” I rasp again.
“Oh, please.” Stacia waves a hand like she’s shooing a fly.
“That bitch didn’t want anything to do with me.
She thought Corinda was her ticket to a billionaire.
I don’t need either one of them.” She snorts.
“You know that mother is the one who tried to kidnap you with the big firefight on main street, right?”
“I wondered,” I mumble. “But she wanted me to charge the citrines, so she didn’t send the missile into Justice’s penthouse.”
Wynd smiles. “That was me. I thought to take Justice out first and Thorn later.”
I can’t breathe. “So why send a missile into Alexei’s home?” That doesn’t make sense.
Stacia looks at me like I’m a moron. “Mother did that. She figured Alexei would blame Justice, and they’d kill each other. Or at least, one of them would die. Same thing with the gunman at the courthouse. She truly wanted to take them all out.”
Wynd slides an arm around Stacia’s waist and pulls her into him. “You’re so smart, baby.”
The pet name makes bile rise in my mouth. “Murderers don’t get to be called baby,” I spit.
Stacia laughs, all sharp edges. “I wish we could keep you locked away here like Corinda, but Justice will never stop looking for you, so you have to die.” Walking across the room, she opens a cupboard. “After you do me a favor, of course.”
She pulls out a fat citrine the size of a bowling ball and places it on the desk next to Corinda. The gem throws back a mellow, honey light that makes my vision swim. The sound of the servers thrums underfoot, a slow, steady throb that seems to sync with the gem’s pulse.
The citrine calls to me. How am I going to get Corinda out of here? If someone told me two days ago I’d be trying to save my stepsister, I’d have told them they were nuts.
Stacia grabs a broom from the corner and, without touching the diamond herself, shoves the pedestal hard. The gem tips, slides, and clanks off the stand, landing with a dull thud on the console. Dust lifts. Corinda coughs, her lashes fluttering.
“Our system is clear of the virus,” Stacia says, voice flat. “But apparently it lives in my dear sister. She can’t charge a diamond without infecting it.”
Wynd nods. “Everyone else is safe. It appears that when you destroyed the virus in the system last time, you created firewalls. Our servers are fine.”
Damn it.
Stacia stares at me. “Can you take the virus out of Corinda like you did the servers?”
“Most viruses aren’t curable,” I say. My jaw hurts where I hit the trunk.
Alana had cured Thorn, but they have a connection that’s beyond this world.
I can’t duplicate that with Corinda. However, I don’t want to die right now.
“But I can try. I’ll need time within the system. ” Maybe I can contact Justice somehow.
“I’ll think about it. For now, it’s time for you to charge this little puppy,” Stacia says cheerfully, eyes bright as knives as she fetches the citrine and turns to place it on the pedestal.
I frown. “Why would I do that? The second I do, you’ll kill me.”
“We’re going to kill you anyway,” Wynd says, casual as morning coffee, “but it’s up to you.” His gaze rakes me head to toe. “I can make it fast, or I can take my time. Slow. Have some fun.”
Slow chills prick my skin. “Do you have any idea what Justice is going to do to you?” I blurt before the thought can be tamped down.
Wynd smiles, and whatever playfulness he had disappears. “No one will ever know it was me, Ella. I’ve got it covered. Kaz’s last thought was a regret for being such a pain in the ass all these years.”
The name hits me like a punch. He killed Kaz.
Wynd snatches my hair and throws me toward the citrine. Agony rips across my scalp. I slam into the console, bounce off metal, and land on my knees. Pain blooms in my palms and legs from the impact.
He stands over me, gun already out. “I’ll shoot Corinda in the throat, then you in the foot, then the other foot, then your shoulder, then the other shoulder,” he recites, voice calm, methodical.
I lift a hand. “I understand. You’re going to keep on shooting me.”
“Yep.” He leans in. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll take your clothes off and convince you another way.”
My gaze jerks to Stacia. She doesn’t even blink. “Aren’t you two in love?” I snarl.
“Definitely,” Stacia says. “But you do what you’ve got to do. Now start charging that crystal. Our entire system needs the power.”
I stand on shaking legs and place my hands on the gem. The stone is warm, buzzing faintly under my palms. Heat travels up my arms, a hum under skin.
Corinda coughs behind me. She sounds like her lungs are full of water.
I press harder and force my will into the task, thinking of Justice, of Alana and Rosalie, of my godmothers, and of whatever little life I can salvage for Corinda if I live through this.
“Wait a sec. Who killed Horace?” I ask.
“Me.” Wynd shrugs. “Horace was in the way. I buried him at Justice’s just to fuck with him.”
“You’re sick,” I breathe.
Now I just have to figure out a way to get Corinda and me out of this before Wynd makes good on his threats. I look up and he smiles.
“This is going to be fun,” he promises.