Chapter Forty
Marcus
Istudytheblockofwood positioned perfectly at the feet of the hole where Veyn lives. There isn’t a single impressive thing about it, except that it should be destroyed for hygiene purposes alone.
“Destroy him.”
Annoying to believe, but I don’t know if I want to destroy him. Not because I don’t want to, but Lenora wouldn’t want me to and part of me likes the idea of her being protected by a supernatural creature who cares about her as much as I do.
But he’s evil.
Evil needs to be destroyed.
But she cares about him.
I can’t hurt her by killing yet another person in her life.
But he’s not a person.
Doesn’t matter. It would crush her.
I circle the box, searching for hidden compartments. A latch to pop it open.
I may not be ready to kill him, but I would like to see his power source in case I ever did need to. This might be my only chance to get this close without him in the room.
“Usher!”
The unsteady hiss of my name reminds me that I am not alone. That there is a lump of a man hovering a few feet away, clutching a weapon like a teddy bear.
“They were here,” I assure him, bending at the waist to examine the lip. “It’s a long story.”
I lift a hand and knock on the top.
Probably not the best idea if I don’t want to alert Veyn to my visit. But it’s barely on my thoughts when I reach down and knock on the side.
“What do you mean…? You were supposed to bring me to them?” He shuffles an inch close. “What the hell is that?”
I scoot around to the top and rap my knuckles along the wood, listening for a change.
“This is an altar. It’s where people die … mostly.”
A hollowthunkhas me pausing and stooping for a better glance.
The spot looks no different from the rest of the box. Even the faint carvings of symbols I don’t recognize seem to come together seamlessly with no visible gaps to indicate something might be on the other side. I even drag my nails across the area, trying to snag on a crack.
“Usher, I swear to God, if you don’t—”
“Come over here and help me lift this,” I interrupt, pushing upright and hooking my fingers under the lip.
Julen’s muddy brown eyes blink as if I’ve asked him to strip and do the tango. The weapon in his hand drops an inch before jerking back up.
“Are you…? Get away from that thing and tell me where August and Berny are.”
It has to lift.
The seam runs around the entire table with just enough of a lip to tuck my fingertips. But would the top come off? It wouldn’t make sense if it slid off while a sacrifice was happening. Maybe there’s a switch…
“Are you stupid?” Julen is barking while I trace a circle around the altar with the pads of my fingers. “What is wrong with you?”
