Finally, what seems like hours later, we come to a stop. I roll forward into the front of the trunk and crack my elbow. Pain jerks up my arm.
The trunk opens and bright light blinds me. A hood shoves down over my head, coarse fabric scratching my face. “Hey!” I yell, reaching out and scratching at air. My entire world spins, black and suffocating, as hard arms grab me and lift me against a solid chest.
His smell isn’t one I know. Not like Justice. It could be any of the men I was in the elevator with. My body presses against muscle, the beat of his heart steady through cloth. His footsteps pound, echoing on hollow pavement. My eyes water. Are we in a parking garage? It smells like damp concrete, motor oil, and old exhaust.
A ding echoes. I sneeze into the hood. Gross. We step into an elevator. I hear the doors close. I thrash, twisting, but he’s too strong.
“Justice is going to kill you for this.” My voice is muffled through the hood.
He doesn’t answer.
“I’mgoing to kill you for this.” The words burst out, and raw fury ripples through me along with fear. Terror, really. I reach up, but one beefy hand locks around my wrist, pinning me in place. I slam my shoulder against his chest. He doesn’t even grunt. Jerk.
The elevator lurches. We’re descending. I yelp, sharp, because I had expected to rise. No. We’re going down. Crap. So that’s where they bury the bodies.
“Who are you?” I demand. I blink rapidly, though there’s nothing to see. My head pounds, my ears ring.Every breath tastes of fabric and oil. The doors part, and cool air rushes around us, lifting the edges of the hood.
I sneeze again. Darn it.
He walks across a hard surface. The hum of machines thickens, low and steady. I’m dropped into a chair, metal biting through the seat of my dress, and the hood is yanked off.
Corinda stands in the middle of the TimeGem server chamber, hands hovering over a diamond that glows faintly with a tinge of yellow. She steps back. Pale. Her eyes shimmer a faint yellow and her fingers tremble hard. The place has been cleaned, but damage still shows on the walls and floor.
“Corinda?” I snap, mouth dry, tongue thick as cotton.
My stepsister’s hair is a tangled mess around her shoulders, but her green sweater and jeans look neat, as if she’d dressed down for a casual day instead of a kidnapping. Sure, we don’t like each other, but how could she do this? Does she think I killed her mom? Does she even know that Sylveria is dead?
I turn … and see Wynd. My breath catches. Not Wynd. Not Justice’s friend and cousin. Confusion blankets me before reality slaps me hard. “Bastard,” I hiss. Then I turn my head and sneeze again.
Wynd shifts left, his gaze locked on Corinda. His presence fills the room, the weight of it pressing the air thinner. His voice cuts through the hum, low and certain. “Did you get it charged?”
Not in a million years would I have guessed it was him. My breath snags, and for a second the ache in my temple dulls under the shock. Wynd. Standing here likehe belongs. My chest tightens, panic breaking through the haze, and I start to stand.
His gaze snaps to me. “If you move, I swear to God, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.” He shifts more to the left, body angled toward Corinda, as if I’m already handled. “Answer me, Corinda. Is that diamond charged or not?” His voice is colder than I’ve ever heard.
Corinda looks down at the diamond, its glow wrong and sickly, already streaked with yellow, though it should be fresh. Her hands tremble so violently she can barely keep them open.
I shake my head, heat rising in my throat. “How long have you been trying?”
Her eyes flick to me, glassy, and her voice is dazed, hollow. “All night.”
“That’s what you get for being a murderous kidnapper,” I fire back, my chest tight with disbelief. I know she’s ambitious and maybe even ruthless. I never thought murder fit in the picture. My voice scrapes raw. “Did you kill your mother?”
Corinda pales further, the yellow light catching her skin until she looks carved from wax. Her hands drop to her sides, useless, and her bottom lip trembles.
I drag my eyes back up to Wynd, the sight of him still a hammer against my skull. “It had to be you. Nobody else could’ve gotten Sylveria’s body inside the Malice Media structure.”
“Yeah, I dumped her body, but I didn’t shoot her,” he says carefully, eyes locked on Corinda, voice edged like steel.
“Corinda,” I whisper, stunned. My pulse stutters. I’dlike to say nothing surprises me anymore, but this—this does.
Her shoulders curl inward. “You don’t understand.” Is she in shock?
I would be if I killed my own mother. “No, you’re right. I don’t.” My gaze bounces between the two of them, the diamond’s faint hum clawing up my spine. “What is this? Some lovers’ thing gone horribly wrong?”
Wynd glares at me. “I am so fucking tired of you.”
Is there any way I can reach Corinda? “I don’t know much about people and energy,” I mutter, forcing air into my lungs, “but I think he’s using you.” My fingers twitch against the arms of the chair, searching for leverage. Because someone who could kill her own mother isn’t going to help me, but maybe I can make her turn against him, somehow?
