I shudder, and then?—
“What’s happening to me?” he whispers.
Everything stops. The room stops swirling, my stomach quits fluttering, and my eyes stop drifting closed. They pop open, and I scan the room, looking for the voice, only to realize it’s his. It’s low, smooth, and—crap, it’s velvety. It’s got a rough edge to it, like it hurt his throat to be used, but it makes my skin prickle in the worst and most confusing way.
My gasp breaks the silence after his question. Oh, my … I wasn’t expecting him to speak—not now, not ever. So when he does, there’s a shift in the room.
I pull back, side-eyeing him. “Did you just … Was that … ?”
Great. Now I’m the one without words. I open my mouth to ask him again, but there’s a shout outside the room. Slade snaps his head up, holding my gaze for a second, maybe two, before the door bursts open.
He spins, angling himself between the open door and me. His right hand extends out. Is he blocking me?
A towering man with long jet-black hair stands in the doorframe, a smirk spreading across his lips. Dimples appear, offering a contradiction to the tattoos swallowing his neck and the gun in his hand. “If you wanted alone time, Slade, all you had to do was say something.”
He snickers but snaps his mouth shut when Slade grates, “Get out.”
The man’s eyes widen, then dart to me and narrow. “Yeah, well Knox texted. Security is on their way. Get ready.”
Slade hisses out a sigh.
“I gotta go, but uh, I guess I’lltalkto you later.” The man winks before darting out of the frame.
I glance at Slade and his face changes color. Deep red pricks the top of his cheeks. Is he embarrassed?
“I—” Slade starts.
“Slade!” A security guard runs around the corner, hair buzzed short, eyes dark, and a silver hoop threaded through one eyebrow. “We’ve been instructed to bring you to Graves’s office. My back up is coming. What do you want me to do?”
Is this guy askinghim? Slade?
Slade looks at me and gestures toward the security guard.
“You want me to go with him?” I ask.
He nods, then turns to the door. “My limo.”
His voice scrapes low across my skin. Gravel and smooth in the same breath.Heck.
Knox’s chin jerks back, and his brows shoot up. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take her.”
Slade places a hand on the bare dip in my back, his fingertips light and reverent almost. Gently he pushes me forward, toward Knox who holds out his hand.
“Let’s go.” He pulls me, and I chance a peek behind me to see Slade tuck his hands into his pockets and bow his head. Then I’m dragged down a hallway, then another, and another. It’s alla blur until a steel door. Knox swipes his thumb over a pin pad, and it opens to the underground garage I’ve been in before.
Edmond stands beside a limo, his hand on the rear handle. He smiles at me and opens the door. The sweetness in his gesture, the genuine curve of his mouth—I want to cry. Picking up my pace, I rush to the limo, collapsing into the seat. The leather is cool against my flushed skin and damp back.
Edmond pokes his head in the door. “Seat belt, Miss.” Then, with a heavythunk, the door shuts, sealing out the noise. I drag in an even breath but can’t seem to push it back out. Instead, my throat tightens, and I let out a soft, quivering wince that twists into a fractured sob.
Shame smothers my relief at being off the stage. His nose in the sensitive dip below my ear, the pained sigh into my skin, the heat in his gaze—what was that?
He’s still complicit in this, but I should be grateful I’ve been relieved of that awful Culling. Though, was his removing me a graceful act, or was it control? What about the others? I can’t leave them. There’s too much that needs to be exposed.
Survive, Thea.
Yes. Yes, I want to survive, and I was definitely losing, but I’m not the one worth saving. What about Mercy, or Beth—she wants to be a doctor. Was in med school, with a clear direction for her future. I don’t have one of those.
I reach for the door handle. I could go back. Edmond sure isn’t going to chase me down, and this Knox guy, currently on his way back to the elevator, probably has bigger, more important people he answers to. Though would they view me as complicit in Slade’s charade? I lost to Juliette, so I will be put in the pool with the others. If I’m Culled, I’ll be shipped away.
