The collective registered the offhand reference to the drug. She had said it without emotion, like she was talking about the weather. It came and went. It was wearing thin now. She was more present at this moment than she had been at the start of the game.
"How long does it last?" Number Three asked. "The drug?"
"Three hours, maybe four. Less when I have eaten." She glanced at the food cart. "I have not eaten today. If I were back in the brothel, I would get another hit."
So that was why the guard wanted to escort her back.
Just like them, she needed a steady supply of drugs, but for different reasons. They needed the drugs to stay coherent andnot devolve into chaotic behavior, while she needed it to stay numb.
To endure.
Number Five reached for the fruit platter and pushed it toward her. Number Eight cut a slice of cake, put it on a plate, and slid it to her across the carpet.
She looked at the cake, and then at them, and then she picked up the fork.
"You are strange, but not in a bad way," she said. "Definitely not what I expected."
"What did you expect?" Number Six asked.
"Eight immortal soldiers. I was worried about being bitten eight times. I've built up quite a tolerance to the venom by now, but still. At some point, all that euphoric goodness might become deadly." She shrugged. "Not a bad way to go, though."
There had been a note of longing in that last sentence.
She had talked so casually about her own death, as if her life didn't matter, as if she was looking forward to ending it all.
Perhaps she'd reached her limit right when escape was on the horizon. Regrettably, they couldn't tell her that she needed to hold on because freedom was near. They would have to wait until the last moment and tell her the plan right before they whisked her onto a ship.
9
AREZOO
The house was bursting at the seams.
It had been designed for three immortals to share, but now it was home to a family of four, and today it was hosting a pre-wedding celebration, or rather a combination of a hair and makeup studio and a bachelorette party.
It was loud, chaotic, and Arezoo loved it.
What she didn't love was sitting for so long while Angelica applied her makeup. The stylist was striving to create a masterpiece everyone would gush over, and Arezoo was not opposed to the idea in principle, but she hadn't expected it to take so long. Her makeup for the cocktail party had been done in half the time.
Her mother was standing by the dining room window with her arms crossed, watching Arezoo's reflection in Angelica's portable mirror and not saying anything, which meant she was about to start crying, which was bad because Soraya's crying would set off a chain reaction, and Angelica would have a meltdown.
She had been very specific about no crying until after the wedding ceremony.
They all had to be beautiful and perfect at least until then, so she could showcase her craft.
Even after all the preparation, it still felt surreal that her wedding day was finally here, and as Arezoo imagined herself walking toward Ruvon across the village green, a wave of anxiety surged through her, not because she wasn't ready to become his wife, but because everyone would be looking at her.
Taking a deep breath, she shifted her focus to her beautiful wedding dress to calm her nerves. The cut was A-line, with a fitted lace bodice whose patterns reminded her of frost spreading across glass. Below the waist, the lace gave way to layers of light tulle that shimmered and floated with every step. Sheer sleeves ran down to her wrists, and small pearl buttons traced a line down the back of the bodice. It was a true masterpiece, so even if Angelica couldn't achieve a miracle with the makeup and turn Arezoo into a princess, the dress would.
"I need to check on the kids," Rana said. "I don't trust the boys to dress the younger children for the wedding. I'm afraid of what I'm going to find."
"Half-naked toddlers and ruined shoes," Jasmine supplied.
The boys were currently next door at Rana's house, where the rest of the cousins had been corralled. The older boys had been put in charge of dressing the younger ones, which had seemed like a reasonable plan at first, but upon further examination, not so much. Rana was right to be worried.
A few minutes after she'd left, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." Donya jumped to her feet.
