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Saint
I think we are all wired to fear death. The second we come into this world, we start finding ways to dodge it. I thought over this as she slowly wrapped her arms around her small body and rocked back against the wall. She hadn’t seen me yet. I would wait. She would probably never understand why I did what I had done, but there was no point trying to hide now. I was ready to bare it all to her. I was out of time.
I watched and patiently waited as she brought her eyes up to me. Her brows pulled in. I didn’t see her injury, but I gathered it was on her head, since I had a godforsaken migraine, I couldn’t get rid of. “You’re alive.”
I noticed when she recognized my face, because all movements stopped. Her head was no longer shifting, and her eyes were wide open.
My mouth curved. “What is it, Saint?”
She still hadn’t moved. “No,” she simply said. A range of emotions shifted over her face. Exactly what I expected and why I didn’t come in my true face to her until now. “No.”
“Yes,” I said, unbuttoning my suit jacket. “Say my name.”
“No,” she shouted. This time her voice cracked and whimpered in pain.
“Say it!” I screamed, flying off the chair and falling down to her face. I squeezed her cheeks with my fingers. “Say my name!”
Her mouth opened, and right when I was caught off guard, expecting her to whisper it, or not say it at all, she arched her back so high until her head tilted backward. “Lucan!”
“Wait, Saint—”
My retinas are like rings of fire, begging to be put out as I fly up from the position that I am in. My throat burns and my limbs are weak. Concrete walls with moss growing through the cracks, a single bed, no windows, and one door. Unlike the last time I woke up in a strange place, this one reeks of danger.
“Where the hell?” I bring my hand up and wince when the lump on the back of my head echoes through my mind. I need to tell Ophelia that it was Lucan inside my head all this time. We were wrong thinking he was alive. It was another case of Ava Garcia, only smarter. Like a snake, slithering into my mind. Aside from my throbbing head, I don’t feel pain anywhere else, so I move off the bed and try to find an escape. Anything. An old vent, a crack in the wall, a hidden window, but I come up short. Turning around, I lean against the wall as drops of water slide down my arm.
Footsteps echo outside and I begin stepping backward, when I recognize the sound of heels. I already know who it is before she appears.
The door unlocks and Veronica stands at the threshold with Sam at her side. “Morning, Hecate! Did you have a good sleep?” She moves deeper into my bedroom and grabs my wrist, yanking me closer to her. “Time to follow me.” I don’t fight her because I know I can’t. I’d rather she assume I’m not going to put up a fight and loosen her grip, allowing me to pounce when the time is right, then jump around like a hellcat and give away all of my tricks. “When it comes to fighting back, you have to meet it with patience, or you’ll lose every time.” Brantley.
I swallow saliva and continue to follow her down the damp hallway. Cell after cell passes by, all empty from what I can see. “Where are we?”
“In the place where they will never expect you to be.” Veronica nudges her head at Sam. “Follow behind her.”
He moves behind me, not a single word spoken. Not one word since she barged into my room, and I don’t know why, but it makes me uncomfortable. I think deep down in the back of my brain, I had thought it was maybe Sam invading my mind.
Oh, how wrong I was.
“Why are you doing this to me, Veronica? What did I do? Why?”
Veronica doesn’t say anything until we reach the end of the hallway and she’s pushing open yet another door. It widens into a large room that looks more like an igloo, with doors branching off. There are chairs in a circle, with a boy I don’t recognize on the other side.
He seems young. Too young. Very pretty looking, too.
He’s wearing a suit, immaculate, and his hair is dyed blond. He nods at Veronica. “You have twenty-four hours before we will need to move her across.”
Veronica waves him off. “Go and do your little duties. Your rebellion is appreciated.” Veronica takes a seat on one of the many chairs and gestures her hand out to another. “Take a seat, Saint.”
I do, slowly lowering myself down. Sam follows. Still silent. Weak. He was obviously in on this all along. I should be shocked, but not much shocks me anymore.
Veronica lights a cigarette. “I’m thankful there’s so much anger happening on this very island right now, sweet Hecate, or this wouldn’t have been possible.”
“Where am I?” I repeat, though I’m getting tired of not getting any answers.
Sam remains still by my side.
“Perdita,” Veronica says. “It’s where we have been all along. The Lost Boys are so desperate to get their new queen 86’ed.”
Perdita.
“Does she know you’re here?” I ask because I need all of the information I can get.
Veronica crosses her long legs, leaning one arm on the back of her chair as her cigarette dangles between her two fingers. “Of course not. I’m still alive. The queen is deranged.” She shakes her head.
“Where are Frankie and Alessi?” I know she could lie to me, but again, I’m gathering as much information as I can. “The next thing I need to tell you about revenge, Saint, is to learn all of your information before you attack. They’ll assume you’re buying time and forget to be careful with their answers. Watch how they answer. Find their lies.”
Veronica’s eyes come to mine. They widen. “Dead.”
My heart cracks in my chest. I don’t believe her. I don’t want to believe her. I ca “Do I?” she asks, her head tilting. “You’re the empath. You tell me, Saint.” She leans forward while tapping her stiletto on the concrete. “Do I look like I’m lying to you?” She finally leans back and rolls her eyes. “They were always a liability. You took the good ones, what was I supposed to do with the trash? Put a pointed hat on them and call them my witches?” She stands from her chair and moves around the room. There are seven doors. The one directly opposite me is the one the boy went through. I’m going to assume that’s the way out. The longer I stare at the doors, the more I get confused with which one it was he walked through, though. I squeeze my eyes closed. “Why go through all of this trouble?” I don’t tell her about me finding out it is Lucan inside of my head. Now that I know who it is, he won’t be able to enter. That was one of the first lessons Ophelia taught me. I can put a mental shield up against the energy he sends off. Veronica takes her seat again. “I guess I’ve thought a lot about how this conversation would go. You were supposed to come to me when you were a baby, not to Lucan.” “But why?” I cross my leg on top of my other one. “Why did you need me?” She doesn’t answer, her eyes shifting all over my body, as if she wasn’t sure if she was going to answer me. “Because you were to break our generational curse, if you were gifted. I found out that you were gifted as soon as you started sleepwalking into the cemetery. I needed you to break the curse that had been put on my coven from my own actions. You see…” Veronica stands and walks to the back of the room. She picks up a small jewelry box that I didn’t notice was there and brings it back to where she was sitting. She pops it open and I almost hold my breath as I wait for her to take out a chain. Identical to mine. Even the pendant is the same. It dangles from two of her fingers and she catches it in her palm. “We haven’t been able to breed a true Child of the Night since I had Brantley.” I try to wrap my head around the information she’s unloading on me so quickly, but struggle to catch up.