Page 5

Each day that passed, I grew ever thinner, my muscles long reverted to waste. My fingers were long and skinny, not an ounce of fat anywhere on my body. I hadn’t seen a mirror since I’d arrived—two, maybe three months ago—but I could imagine what I looked like, and it wasn’t pretty.

At minimum, I smelled like hot garbage on a humid day. My hair lay lank and tangled against my back. My knees stuck out from my legs, not an extra pinch of skin to be found. They’d taken my shoes and socks, and the pedicure I’d gotten before everything went so wrong had long chipped away, leaving only dregs of cheery maroon polish there to tease me of better days.

My nails were torn and bloody. Every day I worked to rip my chains off. Every day I failed.

“You’ll give up,” Minka said.

I couldn’t help the snort wheezing out of me. Pain ripped through my face. I’d rather get railed by a swamp creature with a barbed penis than give in to her.

“You will,” she insisted, a strange glint in her eyes. “Liaza will return soon with a surprise.”

Another smile, this one edged with madness. “He’s having something built just for you.”

I swallowed, terror burning in my veins.

Mom clicked her tongue. “Don’t stare at me so, Moira,” she said, a chiding note in her voice. “All you have to do is give in to me. Give me what I want, and you’ll live a coddled existence.”

I’d never been coddled at anything. She’d treated me like a plaything the moment I was old enough for her to take my power. Minka didn’t know how to make a gilded cage, only a cold one devoid of anything remotely resembling hope.

She liked seeing me like this—hopeless and on the brink of death.

I slowly raised one of my broken fingers and pointed it at her, willing her to read the burning message in my eyes.

Die, you awful bitch. Die.

Minka’s eyes widened just a hair, a frisson of fear rolling over her bright green irises.

My cracked lips opened, showing my broken teeth and bloody smile.

Die.

That night, I sat propped up against the wall, still too broken to lie down properly, and watched the stars. They were the same, ever changing and bright, and I wondered if there was someone up there, staring down at me and wondering if hope was worth it.

Find me, I whispered into the ether, hoping someone, anyone could hear. Find me, find me, find me.

Chapter

Four

With the second round of poo thoroughly mixed into the cold soil, I poured a little bit of the gruel I’d saved on top, hoping it had enough liquid in it to keep things moist.

Tomorrow, I would plant the seeds and start the countdown to the End of Moira™. My best friend was out there, scanning the world. The second that seed sprouted, if it did, she would come. And when she did, I had to be ready to make my move.

So I didn’t argue or flip anyone off or say anything smart. Not that I could talk anyway. My behavior was prison perfect. I ate what they handed me, submitted to Liaza’s whims, even allowing a tear or two to seep out just to keep him on his game, and waited.

I was the spider in their web, waiting for my prey to pass too close.

That tiny kernel of magic still waited inside me, one final spark to throw at my enemies. I conserved it, nurtured it, and spoke to it inside my mind when the lights went out and Liaza and my mother had gone back to their quarters—quarters they now shared, as if I didn’t have enough nightmare fuel to think about these days.

Now the vamp was fucking my mother, and from the sounds they made…I shuddered.

Brain. Off. I flipped the mental switch and tried to think about anything else.

But there was one more topic off-limits, and even in my darkest times, I refused to think about it.

Ethan.

That bond still lived inside me. I’d suspected what it was for a while, but now that I was trapped here with nothing but time on my hands, there was no doubt.