The dungeon fell silent once again. Even the rats had stopped squeaking, and prisoner 6712 seemed to be holding his breath.
Or maybe he finally died.
Oona tried to reach for Jax’s face, but he jerked back from her touch.
“Say something,” she whispered. “Please, Jax.”
“Where is the witch?” he demanded.
Oona sighed, blinking rapidly as if she were still trying to put all the pieces together. “The Darkwinter witch? You know her?”
“Where,” Jax said again, low and dangerous, “has your father taken her?”
Whatever she was about to say next, she swallowed it. Closed her violet eyes. Let out another deep sigh. When she looked up at him again, the confusion had cleared away, leaving only the grim determination of a soldier following orders.
“The Darkwinter blood witch is under guard on the top floor—he’s put her in the guest suites. But you won’t get far, Jax. He’s got men positioned outside the entrances and on the balconies.”
“Excellent,” he said. “The more people I get to kill tonight, the merrier.” He yanked a stake from the holster at her hip, whirled on his heel, and shoved it straight into my chest.
“What the fuck?” I sputtered, stumbling backward against the wall. I slid down into a boneless heap, the last of my strength abandoning me.
Oona spared one last look for Jax, then crouched down to help me. With a swift jerk, she ripped out the stake and pressed her hand to the wound, slowing the blood until my body started to heal itself—as best as it could, anyway.
The whole thing was over in less than fifteen seconds, but those precious seconds were all the time Jax needed to make his move.
The bars slammed shut behind him, and he twirled a keyring on his finger—one he’d obviously taken from her. He also held one of her daggers.
Oona got to her feet again, leaving me on the ground. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m going to track down Haley, find a way out of this nightmare, and murder as many Midnight soldiers as I can along the way.”
“What about us?” I asked.
“Youcan fucking rot.” He glared at me, then turned that crazy blue eye on Oona. “Both of you.”
He unlocked and opened the steel door. The guard Oona had argued with was still standing there. He had just enough time to reach for his weapon, but he wasn’t quick enough on the draw. Jax slit his throat, then dumped the body inside, slamming the door on all of us as he slipped away.
Oona slumped down beside me on the damp ground. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“You just said it, Oona. He wouldn’t have left Midnight if he’d known you were still alive.”
“No, I mean the truth about why you had to leave. About Hudson.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
“It isn’t my story to tell,” I said, which was the truth, sure. But only half of it.
The rest of it I kept to myself—the part about how most of the time, it was easier to keep giving someone a reason to be disappointed in you than it was to carry the burden of his gratitude, or worse—the expectation that you could be counted on to do the right thing again.
That night, Oona and I had set out to save Hudson’s life, and we’d succeeded. Whether Jax knew all the details was irrelevant.
She seemed to understand it—or at least understand that I had nothing more to say on that particular matter. With another deep sigh, she rested her head on my shoulder and pulled her knees up to her chest.
“Please tell me he at least had a better life,” she said, the hope in her voice almost too much to bear. “Even just for those few short years you were out. Tell me what we did that night was worth it, Saint.”
I said nothing. The Devil’s Dream was finally kicking in, cocooning me in its familiar numb haze.
“Saint?” she prodded, lifting her head, and I sighed and finally looked into those teary violet eyes, and I knew—Iknewshe still loved him, knew she’d do it all over again if she thought for oneminuteit would give him a better life. Yes, even if it could only be better for a few short years.
