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“And Tilda?” I ask. I already know the answer—if she was here, she would be in this room—but I have to hear it so I can start formulating a plan. “Is she hurt?”
“Not as far as we know,” Elijah says. “Arden tried to grab her, but they took her behind the walls.”
I want to scream at him for not trying harder to get her—to lash out. Instead, I breathe through it, staring down at my balled fists. “You did the right thing,” I say. “I was…I was wrong to think we could help them.”
“But you tried,” Charlotte says. “Some people just won’t let themselves be saved.”
I exhale and let my head fall back against the hospital bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. I hear the door open, and a moment later I scent Suyin coming in from the corridor. I glance up at her and she gives me a short, serious smile.
“You’re awake,” she says. “Good.”
“I was an idiot,” I say.
“Not such an idiot,” she cocks her head. “After all, you made me third-in-command last night. An idiot wouldn’t do that.”
“It’s because you’re smart enough not to make decisions like the one I did.”
“You’re just an idealist,” Charlotte says. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“My ideals almost got me killed,” I grunt. “And Tilda…”
“We’re going to get her back,” Elijah cuts in. “Arden is already working on a plan. I didn’t think they were friends, but I think our cranky little Brit has taken quite the shine to your mate.”
“And Tilda won’t just let herself be held prisoner,” Charlotte says. “I know we’ve only had her with us for a short time, but she’s one of us. She won’t tolerate being separated from the pack.”
“I hope so,” I say. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. What if they don’t let her go?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
?
TILDA
It took me all of three weeks from being a respected member of this community to being their prisoner.
I’m kept under lock and key for forty-eight straight hours, not even allowed to leave to use the bathroom. I don’t get to see Enid, or anyone else I know. Patrick comes in once to interrogate me about the den, and I refuse to answer any of his questions even when he threatens to torture me.
I have to believe the people of Homestead wouldn’t let that happen after all the years I’ve spent protecting them…but I’m coming to learn that I don’t really know these people at all.
If anything, all it does is solidify the fact that I’ve been on the wrong side this whole time. These are not good people. They shot the man I love, and then they locked me up as a punishment for ‘whoring myself out’ to him.
Another day passes, then another. The only way I know is by watching the red glow of the sun grow outside the tiny window in my cell, then disappear again.
I’m kept going by the knowledge that Reyes is alive. Things are tense for a bit on that first night, stabs of pain shooting from my chest to my shoulder—but they remind me that he’s still here. I would know if he was dead; I’m certain of that. I feel him gaining strength on day two, finally resting on day three, and then I feel him wake up.
Incense washes over me on that fourth morning, and I reach over in my cot like I’ll feel him there. He isn’t, obviously, but it tells me what I need to know.
He’ll come for me soon.
And I have to get out before he tries.
?
By day five, I’ve formulated a plan.
It does includepotentiallykilling Patrick, but at this point I’m not averse to the idea. In fact, I’m ready to burn Homestead to the ground and drag Enid out with me…which may also factor into my plan. Maybe I’m going a little stir crazy, but my plan gets more and more elaborate, ending in a fiery display of rage.
I realize why when the moon rises that night.
