Fuck no.
But it makes me a much more likable character.
You like me, don’t you?
I am manipulatingyouright now.
Am I telling the truth?
Maybe.
Would you ever know?
Probably not.
I chuckle and step toward the oven. I twist the knob and let the gas run. Then I turn and head outside, moving toward the barn we passed on the way in.
The closer I get, the heavier the air becomes.
I pull the door open.
The smell slams into me. I step back, my eyes squeezing shut as my hand covers my nose, and when I open them again, he is there.
Rourke.
He sits slumped in a chair. His wrists are chained behind him. His head rests on his thighs, severed clean. His mouth hangs open, and on his tongue sits a single puzzle piece.
The number26. The last letter of the alphabet.
Z.
As my eyes looked closer, coordinates were carved on his forehead.
“Z,” I say.
I close the barn and walk back toward the house.
I know precisely where Zeke is.
Inside, I grab the matches from the kitchen and step back out. I strike one and toss it through the doorway.
The house turns into flames behind me, heat chasing my heels as I sprint for the car.
I slide into the driver’s seat, turn the key, and pull away as the flames climb into the night.
Zeke is hiding at an abandoned construction site he bought years ago. He wanted to build his own institute there. I have never been there.
I didn’t need to. The coordinates burned themselves into my memory long ago.
“I’m coming for you, Zeke,” I murmured to my chin. “God help you when I do.”
After an hour-long drive from Rourke’s place, I reached the abandoned construction site. I leave the car outside, tucked behind piles of dirt, then slip inside.
From what I remember, he planned to build the lab in the basement, just like Alistair did. The upper level is meant to become either a house or another institute he wanted to run.
The irony presses in. For someone who grew up in one, I will never escape it. I keep coming back.Again and again.
As soon as I step inside, it’s clear that work on the site has already begun. When I reach the staircase leading down, the stench of bleach floods my nostrils.
