Chapter 34 #3
“Stay away from me,” she warns, frantically wrenching open the gate.
“You can’t go,” he pleads, fisting the back of her coat. “It’s not safe up there.”
“It’s not safe down here! I’m not safe with you.”
“No, no—that’s not true. Listen, listen.
” Ezra spins her to face him, his hands in her hair, on her cheeks.
Panicked urgency rushes through his palms. “It’s okay if you don’t want to get pregnant yet—we’ll delay as long as we can.
The fevers you’re having—I’ll feed you. I’ll give you my blood; you can have as much as you want.
I’ll take such good care of you, Jules. You’ll see, you’ll trust me again, you’ll—”
Nausea floods her at the suggestion. “This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever h—”
“I have money for anything you’d need,” Ezra barrels on. “I can get you a passport if you don’t have one—we can go to London! I already have my acceptance from the Caligo Group, we can live in a—”
“The Caligo Group doesn’t exist!”
Ezra blinks at her. His hands fall to his sides. “What?”
“Oh my god, stop!” A laugh of despair cracks out. “Just stop, Ezra. I mentioned it to Professor Golden, and she’d never heard of it. It’s not real. Another lie. You made it up, it’s…”
She trails off at the genuine confusion in his expression.
“You didn’t know either, did you?”
“I have a letter on my desk,” Ezra says.
“I had a phone interview, I…” His gaze falls on his father’s lifeless body.
His realization unfolds in front of her.
“It was him. This whole time. This whole fucking—” He huffs a dark, untamed laugh.
A hand drags down his face in defeat. “He was never going to let me leave.”
For a moment, she can almost see a glimmer of the boy Ezra used to be.
The angles of his face, softer. Eyes brighter with an innocence that hadn’t been scraped away.
She follows his stare to Victor’s corpse and wonders what else he must have done to turn Ezra into a man who kills and calls it protection.
But it doesn’t matter anymore.
“Ezra,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I won’t leave Shore. And I won’t leave Saskia.” She sucks in a shaky breath, sampling the words that have been circling silently in her heart. “I’m in love with her.”
Up until this moment, she wasn’t sure if Ezra already knew. But the pain and devastation swirling behind his eyes removes any last doubt.
He had no idea.
They’re almost even now; Ezra broke her heart, and here she is, breaking his.
But then his expression goes blank, the sadness evaporating. Cold, the basement is suddenly so cold. As if they’re outside in a blizzard. She’s momentarily disoriented by how large his hands seem, practically enveloping her entire waistline, fingers elongated and curled.
“Saskia is going to die,” he whispers.
“I’m leaving.” Mallory twists out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me again.”
Fully panicking now, she flies into the elevator, forcing the gate shut. She snatches the rusted lever and tugs as hard as she can, pulse humming and humming.
“Come on, come on.” But it’s pointless because he’s seconds behind her, shoving his way into the chamber, hands closing on hers just as she snaps the lever into place.
“You’re making a mistake,” he warns, voice approaching that ominous rattle.
The elevator lurches. “Let go—”
But Ezra only tightens his grip. She counters by digging her nails into his wrists. He heaves a breath and tugs harder. She pushes. He pulls. And moments before the elevator creaks into place at the main level, the handle snaps off in Ezra’s hands.
The elevator slams to a halt.
“No, no.” Mallory lurches for the gate. Despair plummets inside her at the realization that the elevator has stopped in the middle of the shaft, the floor a couple feet above her head. She slowly looks at Ezra.
“I can’t reach it,” she whispers.
For a second, she thinks he’ll help her. But he merely stares in a chilling standoff, as if absorbing the fact that she’s now trapped with him. As if he’s clocking it as victory.
“Please,” Mallory adds, voice shaking, “just let me go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” His tone is eerily quiet. “Jules, it’s time to come with me.”
Before Mallory can change her mind, she tugs the silver knife loose from her jacket and swings, slashing his shoulder through his cloak.
A strained hissing sound releases from him as he presses his hand to the wound.
Swallowing her fear, Mallory tucks the knife away and wedges her boot on the railing, hoisting herself up to grab the lip of the floor.
Ezra is quick to snatch her nightgown, but the fabric tears like paper in his heavy fist. He grabs her leg this time, blood-slick fingers digging into her upper thigh.
And ice-cold terror consumes her as she marks the sharpness of claws sinking into her bare skin. No—not claws. Talons.
She doesn’t dare look down. Doesn’t dare think about what he’ll do if he manages to pull her into the darkened chamber.
Instead, she unleashes a scream and kicks wildly.
She thrashes and flails until her boots connect with Ezra’s chest and finally scurries up and up and up into the wardrobe.
She flies through the sacristy, onto the candle-lined altar—
Where she skids to an immediate halt.
She whips her head around.
The chapel is empty, but—
A strange sound vibrates in her ears, rattling her teeth. Rustling.
Like the flapping of wings.
Slowly, with fresh fear taking hold, she looks up. Dozens of ravens are perched in the rafters. Confusion whirs in her brain. They were men before, weren’t they? But now—
She doesn’t have time to finish the question. Doesn’t have time to think, to make sense of any of it.
Because the birds descend as one, swooping straight for her. And Mallory’s scream rips through the chapel anew.