Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Mechanic snapped his fingers. “Wait. Transporter.” He turned to his brother. “She was tall and thin, almost emaciated. Like a skeleton. We called her the skeleton. She had dark hair that hung to her chin and she was always with Sorbacov if she came to the school. She was very rigid. Preacher, you must remember her. She kept looking at Lana. We were afraid Sorbacov was going to give her to the woman. Lana was just a little thing, maybe four.”
Preacher stood up and paced across the room to the window, turning his back on everyone, but not before Ambrielle caught a glimpse of his face. Easygoing Preacher wasn’t quite as easygoing as he seemed. The memory of nearly losing his baby sister was stark on his face, putting lines in his smooth skin and the stamp of the killer in his cold blue eyes. Preacher had always seemed so gentle, the one who laughed and so easily deterred any arguments. That glimpse of the glacier in him, that well of rage that roared to the surface, usually buried beneath a glacier of dense blue ice, was shocking.
“Yeah, I remember her. Dellicia Devin. Sorbacov called her DeeDee to annoy her. She was very stiff and formal all the time. She only wanted female children, and they had to be just as formal when they were with her. Her punishments were very severe. She had her eye on Lana, and I told Viktor straight up that if Sorbacov gave Lana to her, I would find a way to kill her before she took her out of the school.”
He turned and glanced over his shoulder at Czar. Ambrielle tried to interpret that look. Had Czar not agreed to defend Lana? Was there some animosity toward their leader? It didn’t seem so. More like despair. As if Preacher had known they wouldn’t have been able to stop Sorbacov and the woman from taking Lana from them.
Czar sighed. “I remember, Preacher. It was a constant worry. We did our best to hide her from Sorbacov and Dellicia. I remember that horrid woman now. She didn’t come often, but when she came, she always wanted a little girl.”
“This girl, this Helena, could she have been with us briefly, and we weren’t able to keep her from Dellicia?” Lana ventured. “Maybe, even though she claims the woman is her mentor, she’s resentful.”
Ambrielle found herself shaking her head. They were off track and getting more off track by the moment. This was about Viktor. Not Czar. Not Dellicia. Viktor. He had done something to a young girl. The girl wasn’t Helena. She was named Mila at the time. Mila became Helena when she went off with Dellicia. Originally, when she was at the school with Viktor and the others, her name had been Mila.
“What are you saying?” Master asked.
Ambrielle became aware the others were looking at her. She swore under her breath. “I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of thinking out loud.”
“We can use all the input we can get,” Czar encouraged.
She hesitated, looking up at Master. He nodded. She pressed her fingers over her lips for a moment, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “It’s just that I think you’re getting off track. This is about you, Czar, when you were Viktor. And about this girl when she was Mila. Mila obviously was given to Dellicia by Sorbacov. Do you remember this little girl at all?”
Czar pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t. There were so many, and God help me, I don’t.”
Again, there was a short silence. Ambrielle was the one to break it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kinds of decisions did you make for everyone, Czar? I’m talking about when Lana was four or five. When Alena was four and five. Think back to what was happening around that time and the decisions you were making. What were they, and who did they affect?”
Czar pushed his hands through his hair again. He had a lot of hair, and now he looked wild. Blythe leaned into him, and instantly he turned to her, his body language intimate and loving. She tamed the wildness of his long hair into a semblance of order.
“I had to make harsh decisions. There was never enough food. It was cold, and we had to conserve heat. Our part of the basement was down by the kitchen pipes, so we had some heat that the others didn’t know about. We had to defend our territory. We shared everything. We worked out and practiced our psychic talents no matter what shape we were in. I drove everyone to do those things. I planned out protection of our territory and food storage as well as killing an instructor who was particularly violent. They all were violent, but some of them enjoyed being brutal beyond imagining. I made those calls. No one else. I didn’t want anyone else to have that on them.”