Callum pulls back, his breathing ragged. He holds me close to him, keeping me pinned against his hard body.
My knees feel weak in a way fear has never done to me before.
He looks down at me through his mask, and for the first time, I feel like he isn't looking looking at an enemy, or a prisoner, or a broken girl.
But me.
Brother Tracy nods in approval and turns away to another group of people, the cloth swaying in his hand as he moves.
We survived.
But as I stare back up at Callum, I realize the real danger isn't the cult anymore.
It's falling for the man who is supposed to destroy my father and has me captive for going against everything he stands for.
Callum's hand eventually loosens, and his eyes search my face for answers to questions he's not asking.
I watch him lick his lips as he clears his throat. Just as he's about to say something, I see him.
"There," I say, nodding behind Callum, who turns to look over his shoulder. "That's Brother George."
25
CALLUM
I'm still tasting her when Zaria tightens her grip on my arm and whispers to me.
The heat, fear, want, everything tangled together so tightly I don't know where one ends and the other begins. My pulse is still roaring in my ears, my body still primed from the kiss, from her mouth opening under mine, from the way she melted into me like she'd been waiting for it.
I turn to follow her gaze behind me to a man who slips out of the main chamber and into a corridor to the left, his robe darker than the others, his steps unhurried, like he belongs anywhere he wants to be.
Brother George.
The man who switched my father's IV. Who stood in that hospital room and poisoned him while he slept.
My blood turns to ice, then fire.
The man who murdered my father dies tonight.
Right here. Right now.
There is no hesitation, no doubt, and no second thoughts.
I turn back to Zaria, my hand still gripping her waist. "Go to the car," I say, keeping my voice low.
Her eyes widen behind her mask. "What? No, I'm not leaving you."
I scan the room and then look back at her. "Stay here, then."
I move to pull away, but her hand clamps down on my forearm.
"Wait." She glances around, then reaches into her robe and pulls out a dagger. She presses the handle into my hand. "A gun's too loud."
I stare at the weapon, then at her.
Two thoughts hit me at once.
First is that she had this the entire time. She could have used it on me at any moment she wanted, but she didn't.
