Rhett claps his hands together in quick succession. “Which is why we neededyou. Because you are not only Noctryn, but a Liminal. End of story,” he says with finality. “Thank you, Finnley.”
Finnley turns to reprimand his brother, but Rhett shakes his finger back and forth. He grabs both professors and pushes them. The alchemy professor’s wide eyes are going back and forth between the two men. Sweat trickles down his brow, and the vein in his forehead is popping out. Professor Huntsal is screaming behind her gag and digging her heels in the sand.
“Come on now, don’t be shy,” Rhett says in a cheerful voice as he puts them directly in front of my eyes. “The party is just starting.”
“Whatever you’re thinking about doing, please don’t—” I start.
Rhett quickly grabs Hunstal’s head, twisting violently before she crumples to the sand. The alchemy professor tries to run but doesn’t make it far. Rhett throws a dagger, hitting him directly in the back of the skull. He’s dead before he hits the ground.
“WHAT THE FUCK, RHETT?” Finnley screams, walking over and punching his brother in the face. “What is fucking wrong with you?” He stares at his brother as if he doesn’t really know him.
I look at the dead professors. The sand around them is changing from amber crystals to crimson shards. “You’re both monsters,” I whisper, bringing my eyes back to them.
“I’m not, Nori. You know I’m not,” Finnley pleads, shaking his head in refusal. “It was us who took our mother, Nori, not the wraiths, from Harkin House. I had no other choice. She grabbed onto a fellow resident and wouldn’t let go, so we ended up having to take both,” he says. “I swear to you, I didn’t know Rhett was going to kidnap you. I was finding another way!” he declares, dropping to his knees in front of me.
Yaretta pulls my head back.
Another friendship built on lies. An abundance of death lingers in the air.
Today would have been a good day to stay in bed.
Ambrose walks up behind Finnley, blood dripping down the side of his temple. He runs his eyes over me, taking in each wound. He looks up at Yaretta before moving over to Rhett and Eryk, who are both watching him with wary expressions.
“You’re dead. You’re all dead,” he says in a lethally calm voice.
There’s a trail of decapitated monsters in his wake.
A scoff comes from above. “How are you even here? I saw you at the academy,” Yaretta flings at Ambrose, her grip tightening in my hair.
His lips curl. “You don’t think Kingston and I knew we were being watched?” he growls. “You and Eryk make piss-poor spies. What you didn’t count on was the fact we had a siphoner in our midst.”
“Lies!” she screams, yanking my head farther back. “The academy alerts the students when one manifests!”
“Not if it’s kept hidden”—He grins—“Suppressed.”
I can feel her sharp fingernails digging into the tender skin of my scalp.
“All he needed was something of yours,” Ambrose says. “A hair, fingernail, anything that matches your genetic makeup to cancel or sway your manifestation.” He shakes his head at her in mock disappointment. “It was easy enough to find in your room.”
I internally flinch at the thought of what Ambrose was doing in her room. Even if it was with ulterior motives, the method was the same.
“You asshole,” she hisses. “I would have given you everything!” she screams, cutting deeper into my flesh.
His eyes narrow in on the blood dripping freely down my shirt. His jaw ticks, but he stops talking.
Rhett steps up beside Finnley, who has distanced himself from Ambrose as nonchalantly as possible. His glare drops to me. “To be fair, my brother didn’t want you to die, Nori. He’s weak in that regard,” he says, turning to look at Finnley. “We learned of an ancient book through our research on Liminals after we found out about you. A book that could converse with a Liminal through a blood offering, one that knew endless information of the dark arts. The problem was,” he explains, rubbing his bottom lip, “we couldn’t touch it to open it, even if we had your blood. Only certain dark wielders or a Liminal can touch it. Only the Liminal can converse with it. Which is why”—he dangles my bag in the air—“I brought it to you.”
He dumps out my bag, and Silver falls into the sand. “You can share all of its secrets with us before you die.”
Ambrose’s pale face narrows in on Rhett. I can see him open and close his palms, itching to incinerate the man.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the last wraith crumble to the ground.
Kingston walks over, his hair dripping with sweat. His sword hangs loose in his grip, bloody gore and bits of decayed flesh hanging from the blade. He’s now shoulder to shoulder withAmbrose. Two soldiers who hate each other, but with fury in their eyes for the same enemy.
Kingston’s eyes fall to the dagger under my chin.
His lips pull up, and his canines flash in the sun.
