They’ll step through the rift and reappear inside the Water Garden, where Jude will be waiting to distribute the blowtorches. They will free the prisoners while Rafe and I do our best to take Vorat out. At the very least, we will distract him for as long as possible. If I must surrender, Vorat will bring me to the Water Garden, where Jude will be hiding with his bow. By then, the prisoners will be gone and we should have the upper hand.
Jude zips my backpack, his attention flicking toward the foyer before settling on me, the storm outside reflected in his eyes. “I don’t trust him, Selah.”
He’s talking about Rafe.
Of course he is.
Jude despises this part of the plan.
I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off before I can get any words out.
“I know he’s saved your life.” He shakes his head, like he can’t make sense of it. “I just need you to be on your guard.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t forget who he is, or what he’s done.”
“I won’t.” I look up at him with all the sincerity in the world, as if enough of it might ease his mind. “I haven’t.”
My phone vibrates with a message.
It’s from Twig.
Parents finally asleep. Leaving now.
I expel a shaky breath.
This is it. Jude’s signal to leave. To meet at their rendezvous point—a crumbled stone wall behind the stables. But I don’t want him to go. Becausewhat if I never see him again? What if I should have left a note for my dad after all?
I grab his arm. “Jude?”
He looks at me expectantly, hopefully.
I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him to be on his guard, too. I want to remind him to aim first at the ruby. Instead, I bring up something else that’s been lurking in the back of my mind. “I think my mom’s dead, but if somehow she’s not, if there’s a way to save her?—”
“I will.” Then he pulls me into a hug and for a moment, I sink into his arms, savoring the steady thrum of his heartbeat. When I draw back, he’s right there, his lips inches from my own, his golden eyes ablaze. I should step back, turn away. I shouldn’t let this happen. But I am stuck. Trapped in place.
“Selah,” he says, his voice low and husky.
And suddenly, we are kissing like the world is ending and this might be our last chance. His hands slide up my ribcage. Mine tangle in his hair. I wrap my arms around him and he wraps his arms around me. Both of us hold on for dear life, our bodies pressed together like they will never come undone.
Until a vision slashes through my mind like a whip.
Black veins curling around his neck.
With a sharp intake of breath, I pull away—my lips swollen, my pulse racing—horrified by what I have done.
He stares back at me with eyes that burn and I know he regrets nothing. He gives me one final fierce look, grabs hold of the duffel bag, and steps out into the storm.
Behind me, a throat clears.
I spin around, breathless and dizzy.
Rafe steps out of the shadow with an inscrutable expression painted across his face. “Feeding Vorat a snack before our big battle?” He clucks his tongue. “I thought you were smarter than that, Selah.”
53
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