My vision peppers with black, panic pressing down even tighter. I have to master it. I have to be stronger than my own fear. I will be.
“Simple,” I repeat through gritted teeth. “Tell me how she died?” I ask quickly. Something to distract me and him.
His brow quirks.
“Liz. How did she die?”
Mr. Vandozer smiles, and I almost leap at him again. I almost let my rage turn me into the animal clawing against my skin. If I could turn into that demonic form Jarron hides beneath his skin, I would. I’d tear him to bits with my talons. I’d carve into him, slicing his skin apart, ripping his limbs from his body.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. That’d be great, but I don’t have that ability. I have nothing. Nothing but my mind, so I have to keep it sharp. Rage can be as much of a weakness as a strength.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“She wasn’t a coward,” he murmurs, the slight hint of pride in his eyes, “if that’s what you think. She played. She fought. She was magnificent.”
My hands curl into fists. “Did you love her?” I ask. Again, only stalling. I don’t care if he tells me yes; there is no way in hell I’ll ever believe him.
“Yes,” he says.
Jarron groans, blood sloshing as he squirms. My heart lifts with the evidence that he is still alive. The shadow of a talon tipped hand reaches for Mr. Vandozer. Does it bother Jarron that he loved Liz?
“Liar,” I spit.
Mr. Vandozer grunts. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Right, because I’m too young to—oh wait, that’s exactly what gets you off, isn’t it?”
He growls, low and fierce.
“Corrine too, right? Do you love her too?”
“On your knees,” he commands.
“No!” I won’t submit to him, especially not like that.
“If you don’t want to play along, then I’ll end it now.” He steps forward, sword in hand, and leans over the puddle of blood.
“No,” I whisper.
“Then, get on your knees.”
I whimper and then obey. Goddammit. My mind is spinning now, panic flooding every rational thought.No, no, no. Keep it together.
“I’m going to kill you,” a low voice rumbles. Weak and pained. My head whips to Jarron. I can almost make out his silhouette lumped on the ground. The invisibility is fading. “For hurting her.”
My stomach sinks. For hurting Liz or me? Maybe the distinction shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it does.
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Vandozer drawls impatiently. “Revenge and all that. You hate me for taking your chosen from you, don’t you?”
My heart squeezes. Chosen?
He leans over Jarron, a taunting smile on his lips as Jarron’s body slowly comes into view. His body is larger than I expect, though, and it takes a moment to realize his wings are out, tucked in behind his back. Twisting horns curl over the side of his head. He’s in his true form.
“Don’t you?” he asks again.
“I’ll kill you for hurting her.”
“What did you think you’d achieve, coming here like this, little prince? Did you think you could enact revenge on me in this state? The heart so often overrides our better sense. That tiny bit of hope did you in, didn’t it? Did you come here looking for her? Your chosen?” Mr. Vandozer squats beside Jarron’s body, trembling in rage and pain. “Oh, wait, no. You already lost her. Sheneverwanted you. And now, it’s too late. You’ll never know what it feels like to be with her. To mark her. To bond her. To screw her.”
