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“Stop!” I scream at her, my right palm thrust out.
And she does.
Everythingdoes.
Every single human, witch, and vampire freezes in their place. It’s like time goes completely still and the silence is deafening. I look over to Valtu, who has his hands around Atlas’ throat, pinning him against the wall and hovering a few feet above the ground, plumes of red sumac and yellow turmeric and green basil suspended in the air around them. I turn to Solon who has managed to deflect the blade and is biting the neck of the witch holding it, trails of blood frozen in motion, while his other assailant lies on the ground, missing his head.
I look at the shopkeeper’s shocked face and the mess I just created in his stall, pistachio stuffed fruits and syrup-soaked sweets spilling everywhere.
And then the hair at the back of my neck stands up.
I hear footsteps. The easy, languid footsteps of someone approaching me from the other direction, someone with all the time in the world.
My breath hitches in my throat and Iknow.
“Well, well, well,” Bellamy’s voice rings out, the only sound in the bazaar. “If it isn’t Dahlia Abernathy.”
Chapter27
Rose
That voice.
My name.
I feel as frozen as the people in the market around me and for a moment I feel like I might be in suspended animation as well.
But I’m able to move, to slowly turn around.
And find myself face-to-face with the man who was once like a father to me.
Bellamy.
He stops a few feet away and before I can even make a move to lunge at him, he holds out his palm and pins me in place with an invisible forefield.
“How have you been, my dear?” he goes on, studying me. “I must admit, when I heard you were dead, I was certain I would never see you again.”
“Funny how the world works,” I tell him, the rage flaring up inside me.
He gives me a lopsided grin. My god, he really is immortal, isn’t he? He looks exactly the same as the last day I saw him, maybe even a little younger, like he’s in his late fifties now. The only real change I can see is in his eyes. Once upon a time they were wise, calm, and occasionally kind, despite all the awful shit he did to me. They were also a brilliant blue. Now though, now they are black as sin and harboring a malevolence that wasn’t there before. Obviously he was no saint, he was a murdering, lying bastard. But now he’s brimming with something slick and evil. It’s practically oozing out of him.
“You seem confused,” he ruminates. “Wonder if I’ve discovered the fountain of youth?”
“I know you haven’t,” I deride him. “I know how you got to be this way. You stole my baby brother from my parents.”
His brow furrows. “Your parents?”
Oh, right. He has no idea. Which is a good thing, because it means the lengths that my mom and dad went to worked. They kept me and Dylan safe.
“Amethyst and Wolf,” I tell him, raising my chin. “Looks like you didn’t know about me.”
He looks bothered by this and I feel a tiny twinge of pride. I’ll take what I can get.
“How can they be your parents?”
“As I said. The universe works in mysterious ways.”
His eyes narrow and he breathes in deeply through his long nose, as if smelling me. “Then that means you have the same genes as Leif.”
