I don’t think I can keep blaming these strange occurrences on sleep.
My breath shallows and I blink hard—but the colors don’t reappear.
Having no idea what I just witnessed, I don’t fight Ansaldo as he shifts my finger over the basin. A single drop plops onto the surface of the natural bowl. My blood doesn’t linger on the bark; it instantly disappears without a trace. I squeeze my eyes hard, but it doesn’t reappear.
God, Imustbe imagining things…
“Now,” he says, pulling my hand away so another drop doesn’t enter the bowl, “promise something benign, something that’s unlikely to ever come up, but that will allow you to prove to yourself right now that we’re telling you the truth.”
I consider this for a moment. Feeling the weight of my switchblade in my pocket, I reach over with my other hand and take it out.
Releasing the blade and sitting back on my heels, I say, “I swear I’ll never maliciously stab my left foot with my own switchblade.”
“Interesting choice,” Cec comments, the first words out of his mouth for some time.
I ignore him, holding my breath instead.This is insanity.If this is the only way to prove to myself that Ansaldo is telling the truth, then so be it.
I stab toward my foot with the sharpened tip, bracing myself to nurse a bleeding foot and patch up my boot—but my handstops less than an inch before it can break through the leather. As if someone’s physically holding me back. Glancing around, though, no one is close enough to touch me. I try once more, with even greater force than before. Again, something stops me before I can make any contact.
“What the hell?” I murmur breathlessly.
“As I told you, Miss Hawkins,” Ansaldo replies, “this is very real.”
I attempt to formulate another response beyond a worse variation of ‘what the hell?’, when he grabs the finger he pierced and pinches it over the bowl. One more drop falls onto the wood before I can yank it away.
“Ansaldo!” Bes practically growls, reaching for me.
Ansaldo releases my hand instantly. I fall onto my backside and scramble away from him, holding my bleeding hand upright. Fear grips me.What just happened? What has he done to me?
Bes helps me off the floor and places a protective arm around my shoulder with his good arm.
“What did you do?” I beg Ansaldo, wishing there wasn’t so much fear in my voice.
Ansaldo gets to his feet, expressionless. “You didn’t think I’d allow you into our secret headquarters without ensuring the order’s safety, did you?”
“Ansaldo, this isnotwhat we agreed to,” Bes seethes. I glance at him, intense malice in his dark eyes for his uncle. He looks as if he wants to punch the man.I’d love to see it.In fact, I’d love to see him stab that gilded dagger into Ansaldo’s heart for what he did.
“I knew you’d try to sneak her out of here if I told you what I had planned. Especially with your soft heart.”
Bes snaps his mouth shut and gnashes his teeth, leaving Ansaldo to turn his attention back to me.
“Either you swear by your own blood not to tell anyone who isn’t part of the order about us on pain of death, or you’ll never be allowed to leave here alive.”
“Father…” Cec murmurs, then swallows audibly.Coward.
Bes leaves my side and takes a step toward Ansaldo. “I thought you were only going to show her the power of the blood oath, not force her to make the final one herself. Otherwise, I never would’ve brought her here in the first place.”
Bes once again trusting people he shouldn’t have.Though, I can see why he would’ve thought he could trust his own flesh and blood. Family makes fools of us all.
Ansaldo tsks. “We both know, given her lineage, she wouldn’t have survived long on the outside without our help. And we can’t afford for her to get caught with the amulet either.”
Given my lineage? What the fuck does that mean?My finger pulses with the accusation.
Ansaldo turns back to me. “If you swear this, I may be inclined to allow you to leave. However, you should greatly consider your family’s legacy at the organization.”
My family’s legacy?So Nonnaispart of all this. The betrayal strikes hard and fast, leaving me breathless for a moment.
He raises his chin, looking down his nose at me. “As much as I might dislike your foul mouth and general disdain for authority, from what my son has told me, you held your own against the God Men and Mussolini’s Blackshirts. If you join us, you could make a real difference in the world.”
