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“Wait,” Chris cut in. “You had a vision? Of the future? What did you see? And why haven’t you said anything to us?”
Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes, but I quickly swiped them away. I’d been trying to live on the assumption that the vision wouldn’t come true. Dastien hadn’t gone near an Orangina in days. So, that first part hadn’t happened, and maybe it never would. “It’s bad. Really bad.” The words were so strained, they barely came out. “Please. I’m not saying that I want to go alone. I’m not that stupid. But if we come up with a plan, then I’m just saying that it’s an option.”
“I agree,” Donovan said.
“What?” Meredith whirled around. “You can’t be serious! I don’t care what she saw. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Love. Please. I’m not saying going back to the compound is wise, but maybe it’s time we wake up the witches we’ve got. We were so worried about Luciana using them that we sedated them before doing any real questioning. It’s been days. Maybe the danger’s passed.” He turned to me. “Let’s wake them up.”
With that last sentence, it was like I was weightless. The stress lifted. I didn’t have to go to the compound and risk going into that room again. I could do something, and not leave the safety of St. Ailbe’s.
This—this was a good idea. Finally. A real way to make some progress. “I agree. Let’s do it.”
“Me too,” Chris said. “I’m all in for waking up the witches.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
We all kept quiet as we crossed campus. Dastien hadn’t said a word to me. It killed me. I wasn’t going to go anywhere without you.
You should’ve told me first, not Meredith. I’m your mate.
I know. I know. But I wasn’t sure you’d hear me out. I thought Meredith might, but turns out—not so much.
It was a stupid idea, cherie.
That stung. Did he really just call me stupid?
He pulled me to a stop. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just—I can’t see you get hurt like that again. I won’t let you do something that could put you in that kind of situation.
Okay. It’s okay.
That’s usually my line. He bent down, running his nose along the side of my neck. Je t’aime, cherie.
The second we started down the hallway to the feral cages, I smelled it.
Something foul. Rotted.
Dead.
I strode down the hallway and unbolted the first door. The smell was even worse.
One of the brujas lay inside on a bed with rails. The covers were tucked up to her armpits and a clear tube ran from her withered arm to the IV stand hanging beside her head.
She’s not breathing. Her skin was gray and wrinkly. It looked like she’d aged a century.
I stumbled back. “Are they all…?”
Dastien pushed past me to test the girl’s pulse. After a few long moments, he gently set down her wrist. “Yes. Chris, get Dr. Gonzalez.”
“I’m on it.”
I grabbed the clipboard that hung from the door. “The papers say that Dr. Gonzales checked on them an hour ago. Their vitals were fine. Her handwriting is a little messy—” Typical doctor scratches. “But they were stable and still sedated.”
What could’ve done this? It couldn’t be the drugs. They could’ve died from a wrong dose, but that wouldn’t make them look like bones covered in shriveled skin.
Not all of them. Not in the space of an hour.
Dastien lifted the girl’s eyelid. The socket held what looked like a raisin.
