Something clips at my ankle. I grunt and grab at a small, hard creature. It’s a crab, red-shelled and snapping its claw with a threat. I try to shuffle back. A couple of drops of blood have splattered on the sand. The red absorbs into the grit. Blood shouldn’t do that. The island’s drunk from me, certainly famished after weeks of waiting.
“Elle?”
I look up, cursing my involuntary noise.
Bridget Coleman, her head tilted in curiosity at my crouched figure.
Bridget Coleman, sole survivor of the shipwreck I caused.
Bridget Coleman, the woman I must destroy.
I react too slowly. Liney comes back out of the cave with a blanket folded under one arm. Her face morphs from an easygoing smile to concern.
“Sorry! We were just coming back!” She calls. “Are you all right?”
I should’ve known. Bridget’s smiles, Liney’s distracted glances outside. They spelled lovestruck, sure, but I couldn’t see the betrayal beneath the surface. I’d nearly begged the Devil for this stranger’s life. To pick another over her, some innocent who hasn’t tried to take the only precious thing in my life away. And now they act like nothing’s afoot? It’s too late.
I meet eyes with the survivor, ignoring my sister. A haphazard plan forms as I stalk forward and grab Liney’s arm.
“Ow! Elle!”
Separate. Kill. Cover.
“Don’t move,” I command Bridget.
I drag Liney through the forest. She cries. But this must be done. The last sin on my soul.
“Elle, why are you doing this?” she whines as I pull her across the clearing. “I know what it looks like, but we weren’t—”
“You’re leaving me.” They’re my first words to her. What’s burning at my throat.
“Listen, Elle—”
I can’t. She’ll hate me for a time. But this solves two problems. I no longer need to worry about never seeing another living stranger again nor will Bridget influence Liney anymore. And after she’s dead, the contract fulfilled, I can end this deal with Pratterman. Perhaps a visit to Thomas might even be in order, no matter what the Devil said about plans for him. He can’t find us if he’s dead too.
“She’s only been nice to you!” Liney’s voice breaks.
I don’t have time to get the knife or come up with a better plan. Bridget could be halfway to pushing the boat off the dock.
“Go inside,” I order, pushing her toward the lighthouse.
Liney doesn’t move. My tunnel vision doesn’t allow for delay tactics.
“Stay here then,” I say. “Do not follow me. I mean it, Caroline. You both will regret it.”
I turn. If I can do this quick, she may not reach me by the time it’s over. She doesn’t deserve to see this. I don’t hear footsteps following me.
I call on the heat from the island’s spiral for the first time in a month. It’s eager to be of use, near instantly crawling into my veins from the roots I walk over.
I’ll raze the shaky shreds of happiness we’ve all been clinging to because it must be done. This was always temporary. My senses are mingling with the spiral’s. Blood spilled is not just a need: it’s a craving.
Did Douglas see me? Has he put together the pieces? The last of the Concord wine on my tongue has been replaced with copper. Eventually he must learn that any goodness in me comes only in the spaces between the necessary sins. Liney’s soul, and my own, balances on the precipice of this final task. My life is hers; hers is mine. Neither Devil nor girl will get between that.
I’m merely closing the circle I was destined for. It’s all connected. My lips to Pratterman’s, the gas leak to my parents’ gasping faces, Douglas’s knife to his throat, the spiral’s tendrils to the ship’s keel, and now me to Bridget. There’s one thread of sin that trails through every decision. Cutting that thread now, before its conclusion, would unravel everything. I must complete the dark work, or it was all for nothing.
I have no weapon but my hands and a prayer. This is a sacrifice.
I call on Pratterman’s power, stored beneath the island for my use. Relief floods my nerves the moment I reopen the connection. I can tellmyself the dark gift is only for our freedom’s sake, but there’s no denying my ego’s euphoria in its union with what sings to me.
