I know he wants me to answer him, and I don’t want to fucking die yet, so I do.
In a way.
“How do you know that?” And it’s not really an answer, and I didn’t fuck him, not really, but Sylvan Connor at my back knows something impossible. Something he shouldn’t.
I start to tell myself perhaps he saw me leave Faust’s street, which in itself is stalking, but at least it’s better than the next thought.
The one that has me stiffening in the freshman star’s grip.
The thud against the back window last night with Faust.
The sound we lied to ourselves about: Just snow. Just ice.
It was too loud.
Too human.
And it was…
“It was you, wasn’t it?” My voice is hoarse, the same way it was when I asked him a similar question last night on the phone, before everything with Faust.
“Did you do it?”
And he answers the same way he did then.
“Maybe,”a smile curving against my skin from his lips so close to the shell of my ear.
Cynthia.
Darkmouth.
He knows where I live. And he can charm his way inside. He doesn’t need to break in. Cyn will open the door for him if he mentions me.
“Let me go,” I whisper, my voice shaky. Maybe if I’m compliant, he’ll release me. I hate the thought; all I want is to smash my knuckles into his face, but I want to get away more.
He runs his nose down the side of my face. A primal, possessive gesture.
I am too still.
“You seem so scared,” he observes, his lips on my skin as he holds me tight. “I won’t hurtyou.”
I clench my teeth to stop from whimpering.
In my head, I see Jackson. His eyes wide, staring at the sky. Was that the last thing he ever saw, or was he dead before he rolled into that pose? Did Sylvan put his hand over his mouth, too, to cover his cries?
My stomach lurches beneath Sylvan’s tight hold on my waist.
“Shh,” he says, his temple to the side of my head so his mouth grazes my skin when he speaks. “You’re safe with me, Neve.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight so I don’t cry.
He sounds like a serial killer.
I would know. All my studies, all my memorization, processing, isn’t this what they are?
“I’m going to let you go,” he croons, “but don’t run, or I’ll have to stop you, okay?”
I swallow hard but hope blooms inside my chest. I force my eyes open. Air into my lungs beneath his hand over my mouth. Then I nod very deliberately.
