“Told you.”
“Auggie,” he says, “anything else from the photos? Did you notice any other inconsistencies?”
“Not yet, but I’ve got a few more rolls to develop from earlier in the night. Rook, the runes… the way they glowed like that on the bodies… It reminded me of moonlight.”
He nods. “It probablyis. Dark fae… they’re able to manipulate moonlight for their spells—to use it as a sort of magical ink. It’s part of what makes them so powerful.”
West touches the back of her neck again, her face pale. “The verse,” she whispers. “I heard it with my Tarot reading.”
She recites the words for us:
Upon those screaming hours
Bathed in blood and breath
You will give them light, my moon
And I will give them Death.
“My moon? What if that’s what the message was referring too—these moonlight runes? I made them—I gave them light.”
“If that’s what the message meant,” Rook says gently, “Then we’ll add it to the rest of the puzzle pieces and come up with a plan for what to do next. Okay?”
West nods, but doesn’t say anything in response. Just paces along the row of photos strung up on the line, her eyes wide, as if she still can’t believe she’s responsible for all that carnage.
I want to tell her that they deserved it. That they got off easy after what they did to her. That Jude and I would’vegladlyprolonged their suffering.
But I know it won’t help. Looking at the photos, coming face-to-face with her violent actions in stark snapshots, each moment frozen in time… Whether West remembers committing that violence or not, it happened. And realizing that you’re capable of something so destructive, so heinous?That’sthe most terrifying part of all.
Jude was right last night—if West had actually killed them, it would’ve destroyed some precious part of her she’d never get back.
Unfortunately, looking at her now, I’m pretty sure she lost some part of herself anyway.
“Hey,” I say softly, nodding toward the exit. “I can finish this up later. Why don’t we go see what kind of trouble we can get into in the kitchen? I’m pretty sure there’s a vegan nacho recipe with your name all over it.”
No response.
“Homemade salsa, hand-smashed guacamole, all your favorite vegetables sautéed to golden perfection…” I laugh, knowing I’m laying it on a bit thick, but desperate to distract her anyway. To bring the light back into her eyes, the sweet smile to her face. “Hey, I’ll even throw in some extra tortilla chips for Huxley and Lucinda.”
She finally—finally looks at me again, a faint smile touching her lips. “You drive a hard bargain, Auggie.”
“Listen. When it comes to nachos, I don’t mess around.”
With one final glance at the images, she finally allows me to usher her out of the darkroom. Behind me, Rook removes the photos from the line, assembling them into a neat stack.
“You coming with us?” I ask. “You can regale us with tales about the history of guacamole. I’m sure you know it.”
Rook laughs, but it dies out fast. “You guys go ahead. I’d like to get a jump on translating some of these runes, if you don’t mind.” He points to one of the photos of the rune on West’s neck. Then, dropping his voice to a whisper only I can hear, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one, Augs.Realbad.”
Chapter Thirty
WESTLYN
“No… no! I didn’tdothis! I’m not—”
“Open your eyes,” a new voice says, deep and smooth, right at the edge of my awareness. “Just a bad dream, love.”
“Help me! Somebody help!”
