Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Whatever distraction Ronin set up really packed a punch. I guess everyone in this place is right to both fear and loathe him.
“Tristan, there’s something you need to know,” I heard myself say. “When Radu was questioning me, he recorded me saying who I really am. He told me that if I ran, he’d expose me to all of hell.”
“That’s okay.” Tristan sprinted around the final turn leading to the werewolf wing. “Honestly, I suspected that was one of the bullshit cards up his sleeve. But you don’t have to worry about the wolves. Finding out who you really are will only make them more determined to protect you.”
“Okay, I trust you.” And as those words left my lips, I knew I meant them with every fiber of my being. “I know right now the first priority is getting somewhere that he can’t reach me, but the next one has to be finding Sabrina.”
“Sabrina?” He tipped his head down to pull a face at me. “The snake?”
“The snake,” I confirmed. “Because the snake knows who started all this. She knows who killed your brother and all the others.”
His eyes flashed. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”
Finally, the locked, chained, bolted, and carved doors of the werewolf wing loomed in front of us. Slowing down, Tristan held me one-handed, then pounded on the wood. “Open up.”
The small peephole flew open. “What the fuck do you want?”
“What do you think, asshole?” Tristan barked.
It really is all love around here.
“The password,” Tristan began, “it’s—”
“Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”
Thud!
Tristan jerked—the hit resounding through his body. Eyes rolling up in his head, he crumpled and brought both of us crashing to the floor.
“Tristan?” I wheezed—all the air punched out of me as his heavy frame pinned me to the floor. “Tristan!”
“Hey!” the person behind the door shouted. “What the fuck did you—?”
“Silence, mutt.” Ripping a feather from his wing, Iarla held it to his lips and blew on it. Tiny, white dandelion-looking flecks floated through the air and through the peephole.
There was a second thud as the password-keeper hit the ground.
Iarla towered over us. “Hello, worm. The word around school is that you’re dead, so why am I looking at your filthy-fucking-face right now?” He reached into our pile of limbs and hauled me out. “I knew that cowering hag was covering for Lucifer, but that ends now.” Ravenscar plucked out another feather and blew on it.
Before I could even think to call my weakened limbs to action, golden ropes appeared in the air and lashed around me. Legs, wrists, arms, torso, and mouth—I was tied, gagged, and immobile within seconds.
“They say there’s no proof that Lucifer is involved with the sneaking, deranged worm who cheated their way into the academy just so he could slaughter half the school?” Seizing the knotted end of the rope, Iarla took to the air—yanking me up with him. “Let’s see them lie their way out of it when I force that shit-for-brains hell lord to rescue you in front of an entire mob.”
Mob? What mob!
Iarla winged around the corner, and found an entire squad of flying fae waiting for him. He shook me at them like I was a bag of chips. “I found the killer. Spread the word,” he ordered. “Tell them if they want to see a real execution, they’d better head out to the first field.
“There’s going to be an old-fashioned burning.”
“Hphhmmm!”
I SCREAMED.
All I did was scream, thrash, and plead through my gag as Iarla carried me through the halls, crowing about capturing the killer, and handing out the sentence the “lying, treacherous, demon shits” denied me.
“Is that thing really a witch?”
“Was fairy boy right the whole time?”
An ever-growing crowd followed, chased, and heckled us below, but Iarla flew high and kept me out of their reach. Alongside him, three of his guard flew by his side—backing him up. He wasn’t about to lose his prize so soon after stealing it.
“Why’d they lie about him being dead?” someone in the crowd—mob—demanded.
“What are they hiding?”
“Was that pompous shit also right about Lucifer letting this thing in here to kill us all?”
“Of course I was fucking right, you empty-headed cunts!” Ravenscar really was all charm. “But don’t worry. Unlike those boots, and hooves, you lick, I don’t spout bullshit and expect you to believe it. If you want proof”—he smirked into my terrified eyes—“I’ll give you proof.”
“Hpmf! Hmmm!”
The doors to the field came upon us. Iarla didn’t need to bother opening them, because the jeering, shouting, rushing mob did it for him—shoving them open and spilling onto the dry, cracked earth.
Seeing them loose and free of the crushing, narrow hallways, my heart stopped at how many of them there were. Demons, fae, vampires, and werewolves—all braying for my death. All united in the only thing that could unite them—hate.