PROLOGUE
VEIL
It was impossible to prepare for the harrowing feeling of awaiting my own sacrifice.
Naively, I always assumed I would sense when death would come to collect my soul … like a shadow merging with my own.
Immaterial, but nonetheless there.
Waiting.
Stalking.
But nothing prepared me for today.
To gaze true evil in its eyes—one blue, one green.
I thought I knew. I thought I had a good grasp on the depravity of this city, far too similar to the one I’d left behind a month ago.
It was an incomparable feeling to have to dine in the presence of evil while pretending to be under their spell. It was as disturbing as letting a thousand spiders crawl over me without moving a single muscle or making any sound.
I feasted with those who never saw it coming. Fools. Just like myself. And feigned pleasantries, as if fear weren’t dousing me in gasoline while I sat far too close to an open flame.
I watched in horror as the six heirs of Pravitia dined in excess at the table beside us, animals gnashing on meat and bones while they spoke callously about the upcoming sacrifice. Their faces devoid of any worry lines, a psychopathic flawlessness to their dewy skin.
Now I stand in the middle of a hedge maze, lined up like cattle with the others, facing our slaughterers. A shiver crawls down my spine as I watch them leer, practically salivating at the thought of our deaths. Nausea roils in my stomach. I want to scream. I want to wail.Something.Instead, I do nothing but wait.
I should have fought harder when the blond with the mismatched eyes found me in the city square. But something came over me when I felt the hard tip of his knife press into my ribs.
I froze. I let fear overcome me.
Then I was shoved into a limousine, and the bearded one began his … hypnosis? I couldn’t quite tell—the one thing Iwassure of was that it seemed to work on all the other captives but me. Their eyes became dazed, glazed over as if drugged, and a foreboding chill racked my body.
I wish the waxing moon weren’t so bright as I stand here.
I wish I could stop seeing the disturbed hunger in their eyes as they continue to stare at us. As if still starving after their gluttonous meal. But I wait, caged and terrified under a forced but placid expression.
I feel the air shift. Like an invisible veil has been lifted. And by the whimpers beside me, I surmise that the one who hypnotized us has finally broken the spell the others were under. I pretend to be just as shocked as the rest of them while I furtively glance around, trying to plan a feeble attempt at an escape.
My gaze catches on my kidnapper; he’s staring straight at me.
“Boo,” he says with a sneer.
An unnatural sting washes over me. I realize then, somewhat late, that he’s the one I’ll be running from. He is the presence I should have sensed, not death—him.
Someone clears their throat. It’s the bearded one, his gray-blue eyes as dark as the night sky.
“I suggest,” he says with a slow drawl, “you run.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before adrenaline surges through my body and I bolt toward one of the hedged paths, my bare feet pounding into the soft, wet grass.
I hear a laugh rise into the night. It’s a hateful, wicked thing, and somehow, I know it’s emanating from the man who captured me.
The one who is bound to capture me again.
The blood roars so loudlyin my ears that I can barely hear myself breathe. It feels like I’ve been running for hours, days, a lifetime. My feet are bleeding, my legs so sore that they’ve gone shaky and weak. I don’t know how much longer I can last. I’m a rat in a maze, a lowly nothing, destined to be squashed under a shoe.
As I silently turn a corner, I slam my hand over my mouth and try to swallow a distressed scream at the sight of a body. Or at the sight of what is left of it …
