“I’ve strapped the bomb to myself.” Her breath fanned Flint’s cheek as she leaned in to whisper, “We’ve captured the boy.”
The boy?
Terror clamped steely fingers into her brain. Boy? What boy?
Who?
But a horrible sinking feeling flooded her limbs, made them feel full of concrete. “Abel,” she breathed.
Wickham jerked toward her and when he blinked, she screamed.
“You’re one of them! You’re... you’re...”
His grin was terrifying. Full of teeth and evil, and she knew she was never going to get out of here alive.
“I never smelled you.”
“Of course you didn’t. I was in too deep. The queen knew you could smell us. She knows all. She covered me in her dust. It’s why you’ve never smelled her, though she’s been under your nose for a very long time, Flint DeLuca.”
The trembling started then. It took hold of her feet, traveled up her legs, and then shoved through her arms. She couldn’t stop the spasming, and it was only because Tamara held the back of her dress that she was she still standing.
“It’s Katy. Isn’t it?”
A twinkle sparked in his eyes.
Tamara slapped Flint in the back of the head. “Focus!”
“On what?” She tried to twist around.
None of this was making sense, and the beeping was starting to grow louder. In fact, it was getting to a pitch that was nearly pain.
Wickham and the other drones clamped onto their ears. “Tamara, you know we must take her alive. Hold off on the bomb until we’ve secured the package. The queen will...”
She scoffed. “The queen will what? Kill me? I’m dead already, aren’t I, Jinx? You did it. You inserted the bomb in my thorax.”
The blond-haired drone’s nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched as his mouth turned down. It was a fleeting movement, but enough to show Flint the truth.
“Why, Jinx? Why did you betray me?”
His double eyes blinked. “She knew, Tamara. She knew, and you defied her too long.”
At that, Flint went absolutely still. There really was a bomb and it was inside Tamara. Holy crap. She needed to get out of here. She frantically searched for an escape, but the fear was a choking, sinking thing. Like quicksand, it kept her immobile. Unable to think. To move. To even formulate a plan of escape.
She was pathetic.
Useless.
Tamara took a step back. “Because you know I’m right. And what she does, it’s wrong. Honorable, but wrong.”
What was Tamara doing? It was almost as if she was dropping hints. The truth. She’d said to listen. Was this what she’d meant?
“Tamara.” Wickham’s tone rang with warning as he glanced down at Flint, his eyes narrowing into thin slits.
Tamara continued to move back until her back was pressed to the window and Flint still held tightly to the front of her.
“You know the Triad’s lying, Jinx, you know they are.”
Again, Jinx’s jaw flexed.
Triad? What the eff was the Triad?
Wickham and the girl standing next to Jinx looked at one another. Then Wickham nodded slightly. The girl stepped in closer to Jinx, whose entire focus was still on Tamara.
“That is why you cleared the room. You yelled bomb first,” Jinx whispered.
Flint felt Tamara nod.
“I would lay my life down for the queen, but the prophecy’s wrong. We can’t do—”
“Enough!” Wickham roared, and then faster than Flint could blink, the female drone slipped behind Jinx, and in the span of a heartbeat he lost his head.
Flint screamed, bile working up her throat as the headless body slumped to the ground.
“You’ll keep the queen’s business private, Tamara.” Mr. Wickham sounded for all the world as if he were merely scolding a child in the classroom. “Now, we’ve put down your greatest ally among us. Do as the queen commanded and give me the girl.”
He stepped up, and the clear membrane, it blinked twice. Color flooded his cheeks as he smiled down at Flint.
“You were always a pain.”
Tamara was trembling. Whoever Jinx had been to her, his death had cut her deeply. She didn’t utter a sound, but Flint felt the tremors working through her, the heaviness of her breath on the back of her head.
Black liquid oozed from the corpse, coating the tiles around them, inching straight toward Flint’s new heels.
Whimpering, she gripped Tamara’s arms, suddenly aware that Tamara was the only thing keeping her alive.
The buzzing in her head was growing louder.
The assassin girl was still wiping her hands on her black jeans, as if trying to wipe off the blood. She turned her head. “I hear movement. It’s hard and fast. A rager. Maybe two.”
Flint cried out. “Cain, I’m here.”
Wickham shook his head. “Give her to me!”
Then it was like time slowed. Flint became aware of each minute movement, Wickham reaching for her, murder in his eyes.
Tamara rolling around, now shielding Flint’s body with her own as she punched out the window. Glass shattered everywhere, flying in a spray at the girl’s face. She hissed as it pinged off her flesh. Warmth oozed down her cheeks and brows.
But then time snapped forward again. And it was moving so fast now she could hardly follow.
The door crashed open.
Cain entered.
But he wasn’t Cain. He was a monster, three times the size she’d ever seen him, his eyes a bloody red, his body thick and grotesque. “Let her go,” he thundered.
Black shadows danced behind him.
“Run away,” Tamara whispered. “Don’t stop, and don’t look back.”
Then she grabbed Flint and shoved her through the window.
Flint screamed with a throat gone raw.
It wasn’t a far drop, but she braced herself for impact. Landing on her side, legs sprawled out in front of her and the breath scissoring out of her lungs painfully, she grabbed her rib and felt sticky warmth.
There were roars and shrieks and Flint didn’t know what to do.
Bomb.
The word resonated in her mind like thunder. The bomb was inside Tamara. And that finally cut through the fog in her brain. Scrabbling to her feet, knowing her fingernails were breaking as she stood, she kicked off her heels and ran.
The buzzing was louder, wailing through the night. Sirens were coming.
Someone must have called the cops.
She was alone.
Cain would die.
Cain.
Halfway across the field, she stopped and grabbed her head. Whirling to stare at the school, she knew what she had to do.
She couldn’t fight, but she could calm him enough to make him listen. Make him leave so he wouldn’t get caught in the bomb.
Flint ran for him. Each beat of her heart was like a prayer in her soul.
Save him.
Save him.
Save him.
She was almost back when the world exploded in a burst of flame, a chunk of something slapped her in the head, and the lights went out.
Chapter 32
Abel tried to sit up.
But he was strapped down to something hard, flat, and cold.
Blinking, he attempted to breathe through the panic, but he couldn’t even see. The room was dark.
“Abel.” A disembodied voice echoed through the dark room.
Kicking his feet, he roared as he flexed and bucked. He couldn’t get up.
“Who are you? Let me go! Please. Who are you?”
“Someone who cares.”
The voice was monotonous and flat, sounding neither male, nor female. Heart racing through his chest, he fought to control himself and think.
He’d been abducted in the bathroom. His stomach had twisted and he’d needed to vomit. The moment he’d gotten there, someone or something had hit him in the back of the head and he remembered nothing else.
&n
bsp; Until now.
“Who are you?” He screamed again, jerking against his restraints. “How do you know me?”
“What if I told you we captured Flint?”
Something dark and twisted writhed like a pile of maggots through his soul. His blood and body began to burn and he roared.
“Ahh, so she is the one. For both you and Cain. Very interesting.”
Tears coursed down his cheeks. Violent tears. Angry tears. “Let me go.”
The voice laughed. “You’re not ready yet. But soon you will be.”
Then white lights flooded the room.
Abel winced, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing pain of finally seeing.
Dainty footsteps clacked against the tile as someone entered the room. Then a soothing hand brushed against his forehead. A familiar hand.
Snapping his eyes open, he blinked and then blinked again. “Mom?”
Her shriveled face stared down at him with so much love it was a bruising ache. “Mommy’s here, Abel, and I’m going to make this all better. I promise.”
Withdrawing a long silver needle from behind her back, she sighed. “This might hurt a little.”
Then, yanking his head forward, she inserted it into the base of his skull.
He screamed.
Screamed and screamed and screamed.
Until his throat bled.
~*~
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About Selene Charles
Selene Charles it the pen name for a NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author who loves books that make you think, or feel something. Preferably both. And while she's a total girly girl and loves glitter and rainbows, she's just as happy when she's writing about the dark underbelly of society. Well, if things like zombies, and vampires, and werewolves, and mermaids existed. (Although she has it on good authority that mermaids do in fact exist, because the internet told her so.)
She's married to the love of her life. She lives in Hawaii, loves cooking, and occasionally has been known to crochet. She also really loves talking about herself in the third person.
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Selene Charles Books:
Tempted Series
Forbidden, Book 1
Reckless, Book 2 (Coming Soon)
Forbidden, Tempted Series (Book 1) Page 33