The sound of someone nearing me precedes the sudden sensation of being touched, and I hate myself for flinching when he does. “There’s a lump. Something hard in there.”
“Answer me,” Misery grates. “Or we will force-feed your friend’s heart to you as it still beats.”
“There’s a ruby in there,” I admit without hesitation. “If you take it out, Cypress said it would kill me. Instantly. So… please don’t.”
Everyone is so still they might as well be statues, until Misery’s staff is lifted off my cheek. “Turn her over,” the god commands.
I’m violently flipped over by what appears to be Blackwell. Misery peers down at me, my eyes widening in absolute terror when I meet his gaze this close.
I can’t see anything other than two tiny glowing circles, the color of a burning sunset. “Your lover is an offshoot of the powers I harbor,” he says, lowering his head. “Of the powers Igive. He’s a bastardization of my magic but, admittedly, talented. Just like Cypress is to her god. Whatever she has done to you, Iwillundo. And Soren cannot save you. Not withmearound.”
I’m honestly terrified looking at him, nearly wincing when I swear I see the outline of his face. But the thought of what he hasplanned for me makes me fight. I don’t respond and simply stare him down.Get used to him.
Blackwell asks, “You’rethe god that gives Soren his powers?” His voice is full of absolute awe, almost like he learned the funniest thing about someone.
Well, it seems Cypress wasn’t lying about that.
“Iwas,” Misery answers. “In this mortal state of mine, his powers will take on a mind of their own.” The staff hits the ground near my head, and I flinch. “Render her and the other incapacitated. I want to move quickly. We will examine what Cypress has put into her skin when she is unconscious.”
“There’s no need?—”
It’s all black.
S O R E N
The rum burns as it slides down my throat, a poor distraction for the sense of wrongness clawing at my gut. The communal space buzzes with quiet murmurs and laughter, but it all feels distant, muffled—until the unease blooms into something sharper. Something visceral.
The glass tumbles from my hand as I stand abruptly, scanning the room for something I can’t name.Jane.
Ritter catches my movement, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What is it?"
I don’t answer him. My chest tightens as I close my eyes, reaching for the faint thread that connects me to her—the tether that exists with or without our consent.It’s quiet. Too quiet.The world narrows, and all I hear is my heart pounding like war drums in my ears.
“Jane,” I murmur, barely audible. My voice grows louder, rising like a storm. “Jane.”
Ritter is on his feet in an instant, following me as I tear out of the space. The humid air slams into me like a wall, my boots digging against the dirt as I make for the shanty where she should be. Where shehasto be.
But it’s wrong. Everything about this is wrong.
The building feels like a corpse, hollow and dead. The space where Jane’s presence should light up like a beacon is nothing but emptiness.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. The pressure in my chest is unbearable now.
Not again. Not this.
“JANE!” My voice scratches against my throat as I roar her name. The sound bounces off the nearby structures, mocking me with its void. I rush forward, nearly tripping over a body sprawled in the dirt; one of Ritter’s men. He doesn’t move. Another lies close by, their faces slack in unconsciousness—or worse.
I don’t stop to check. My boots splinter the door as I crash through, frantically scanning the room.
Empty.
My breathing is ragged, my hands trembling from fear and rage as I search the space, trying to reclaim any inkling of her aura.
“No, no, no…” The words spill from my lips like a prayer to the fucking gods who never listen.
Ritter steps in behind me, his presence as heavy as an anchor. “Where is mydaughter?” His voice is low, dangerous.
I don’t answer him. My eyes fall to the floor—and freeze. Blood.
