“I want you to promise me something,” Jason said.
“What?”
“If you get a chance to kill Alex, promise me you will.No hesitation.No bringing him in for questioning or sending him to prison.Dead.He has to die.”
“The ethical thing to do would be to have a trial.A lot of folks who lost family members to Alex want to feel the closure that would come with participating in the justice process.”
“I know what people want.I am asking you, as family, as your brother.Promise me, Silas.You know as well as I do that we can’t risk it.He’s got to die.”
Silas stood and started climbing the bars.“I promise.I promise as your brother.From here on out, I’m not a detective.I’m a prisoner of war.And POWs can’t be blamed for killing their captors.”
Jason closed his eyes.“Thank you.”
“Now you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“When it comes time to kill Alex, you need to let me do it.”
A warm breeze blew through the cage, smelling of composting leaves and humid forest.Jason’s face was at war with itself, his jaw twitching, his eyes narrowing.His lips twisted before seeming to come to some resolve.“Deal.”
The cool morninggave way quickly to sweltering humidity and then to hours of overhead sun that baked them within the cage.Silas and Jason removed their jackets to use for shade and rolled up their sleeves and pant legs.Still, the heat made Silas feel ill.His head swam, and his tongue felt thick and dry as a stone.
His brain was so fried that he didn’t trust his own ears when a rumble came from a distance.
“Do you hear that?”Silas rose, his throat too dry to speak louder than a whisper.The sun had begun to set, and long shadows stretched across his brother’s face, distorting his features.But there was no hiding his sunken cheekbones and cracked lips.A werewolf’s metabolism before the full moon required seven times the calories and hydration of a human.They might have only been in there for a day, but both of them were starving to death.
“Sounds like an engine,” Jason rasped.He stood, pulling the suit jacket he’d been using for shade off his head.
A black Suburban rumbled up a two-rut lane through the woods, Alex behind the wheel and a Latino man Silas didn’t recognize in the passenger’s seat.Alex parked, climbed out, and stared down his nose at Silas.
“This is what you’ve come to, Alex?”Silas said.“Too cowardly to fight us one-on-one, so you lock us in here to die of thirst?”
Alex reached into the Suburban and pulled out a bottle of water, handing it to Silas between the bars.“Drink up.I wouldn’t want you to die before you had a chance to serve my purpose.”
Silas only hesitated for a moment.He offed the cap and gulped down a third of the bottle, then handed the remainder to Jason.
“What exactly do you need us for?”he asked.
“To witness the dawn of a new age.Every revolution needs witnesses.You’ll be the ones to tell the others what happens here.You’ll tell them what’s coming, what the future holds for your pack.And you’ll know exactly what’s in store for them if they don’t comply.”
The other man exited the vehicle and came to stand at Alex’s side.His eyes were dull, lifeless.“Olivia, change back into yourself.Your appearance is disconcerting.”
The man contorted, folding at the waist.He expelled the same slimy excrement Silas had seen before as he shifted back into Meredith’s mother.“Would you like me to bring the book?”she asked once her transformation was complete.
“No.No one touches the book but me,” Alex said.“Bring the fae.”
Olivia opened the back door of the Suburban and pulled Nickelova from her seat.The dragon fae looked like death warmed over.Her hands were bound, her hair was matted, and her complexion was blotchy, as if she’d spent hours crying.
“Alex, please.You loved me once,” she whined.Her mascara ran in long black trails from under her eyes to the delicate bones of her jaw.“I can help you.We could rule together, just as we always planned.”
Alex retrieved Silas’s bag from the vehicle, the one he’d carried Nickelova’s heart in, and hooked it on his shoulder.Then he reached behind the seat and hoistedThe Book of Flesh and Boneinto his arms.
Silas’s stomach turned at the atrocity in Alex’s hands.It appeared to be made of human skin, the spine a series of bones as if a human backbone had been cracked and flattened to adorn the thick, leathery binding.As Alex passed, a cold breeze came off the thing, sending goose bumps up Silas’s arms and across his chest.But the worst part was the smell.The Book of Flesh and Bonesmelled like fetid death bound in misery.
Olivia thrust Nickelova into one of the three stone circles as Alex crossed to the altar and opened the book.
“Alex, please!Have mercy,” she begged.
