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“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He pulls out his phone and turns the screen towards me.
Just like he said, Deni is sitting tied up in some kind of large store-room. The doors are wide open, allowing the sun to draw a long beam of light over the floor. Just as he said,in a few hours the angle of the sun will mean the light falls directly on her.
My heart squeezes at the sight of her. She looks like she’s only semi-conscious. The right side of her body is hideously burned, the blistering skin having pulled back to reveal raw flesh. I rip the phone from his hand, fighting back my tears. She lifts her head a little as if sensing that I’m watching her, black hair streaking her face.God, she must be in so much pain.I want to tell her that it’s going to be alright – no matter what she thinks of me, I will always protect her.But it’s too little, too late, Celeste.
“You can’t talk to her,” Dante says, taking the phone back. “But if you drink this, I’ll give you her address and you can have someone pick her up.”
“Why would I trust you?”
“Because you have no choice, babe.”
My voice is full of spite. “I could torture you until you tell me where she is.”
His laughter is hyperbolic, making him double over as if he’s never heard a funnier thing in his life. “Sorry,” he says, dramatically wiping the corner of his eye. “Of course you could, how did I not think of that?”
With a cock of his head he turns to the tools at the back of the shed. “Let me see…” He saunters over to them and thoughtfully runs his hand over the handles. He picks up a hammer in one hand and pliers in the other. “Would you prefer to break my fingers or rip out my fingernails?”
I ball my hands into fists. “Don’t tempt me.”
His grin is cocky. “Oh, please.” He comes back still holding the tools. Leaning in towards me and jabbing the point of the pliers into my chest. “We both know you don’t have it in you.”
“I killed Alastor.”
His breath is warm against my cheek. “But you didn’t torture him, did you?”
Fuck.I know he’s right. Three hours of torture? He deserves more after everything he’s done and yet I know I could never inflict that much pain anyone, even him.
With a scoff I step back and pull out my phone, unlocking it to my chat with Ibrahim. I ignore the lengthy messages explaining how exactly I’ve been an asshole to Deni – as if I don’t already know – and simply write, “You’ve got three hours before Deni’s dead. Pick her up for me, please?”
He responds within the second with three question marks, followed by, “What’s going on??”
I pass my phone to Dante and walk over to the workbench that he’s set the vial down on.
“Write the address,” I say, nodding at the phone. “You can send it when I’m done.”
He complies with a shrug.
I twirl the bindweed in my hand until he’s stopped typing. I’ve got one more card up my sleeve. It might not save me but maybe, just maybe, it will make this bearable. With one motion, I down the acrid liquid, grimacing at the horrid taste.
Immediately, it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck. The world seems to flinch back from me, all my senses intact but the one allowing me to sense the earth’s power. It’s like my soul has gone blind.
Dizzy, I watch Dante slip my phone in his pocket. “Sent. Let’s hope your friends can do a seven hour drive in three.”
“Bastard,” I mumble, swaying.
He catches me before I fall, wrapping his arm around my waist. Smelling his perfume makes me want to scream, my skin crawling with the memory of his touch,
“Easy, babe.” His lips press against my neck, teeth scraping my skin. “You might want to save your energy.”
20. WHERE IS SHE, PUMPKIN?
Celeste won’t save me.I keep repeating the words in my head so it won’t hurt so much when I die alone. Maybe this isn’t so bad – what do I lose, really? Another few years living like a rat beneath the feet of others, prostituting myself and visiting Mav on whatever street corner he begs on?
And for what? Hope is for idiots. I knew this would end badly from the moment I tasted her blood for the first time but I justhad tobelieve that things could turn around for me.
I thought what Casey did was an anomaly. But looking back, isn’t that what’s always happened? My parents spent eighteen years raising me and the moment they found out I’m gay, it turned out their love wasn’t real after all. Casey spent every moment of our relationship lying and manipulating me. And Celeste? Even after everyone had thoroughly proven that loving me is an impossible task, I threw myself at her feet like the dipshit I am.
She won’t save me.
