Page 102 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“Please, Desdemona,” he says, and I’m cursing myself because I’ve waited so long to hear my name roll off his tongue.

But I never imagined it like this.

“Help!” I scream.

“Let me explain,” he’s saying, but I’m screaming.

“Someone help me!”

“Your mother tried to kill the Arcanes!” he says, whispering into my ear, and I grow quickly silent. “She made a weapon, and when Lorucille found out she faked her death.”

I still against him. I feel conflicted because too much of my attention is on the way his hands feel around my waist, how his chest feels against my back—the way every drop of my energy rushes to the surface just to get a glimpse of his skin on mine—instead of the very realistic explanation he’s just given me.

I gulp, loudly. “Why are you telling me now?” I ask, all while getting ready to smash my head back and hopefully break his nose.

“Because things have gotten more difficult.”

“You’ve been using me this whole time then?” I whisper, turning my head just to make out his eyes. Not that they’ll tell me anything. Apparently, he’s just as good a liar as I am.

His voice is low when he says, “Yes.”

It’s ridiculous, really, the way I feel very palpable pain in my chest.

Defeat drips from my heart and into my bloodstream. My body falls apart, and I can’t stop my muscles from momentarily failing as I fall into Lucian a little more. I close my eyes and force myself to pull me back together again. This is okay—it’s more than okay, it’s good. I found my mom. I found a reason to untangle from the prince.

I force myself out of Lucian’s grasp and turn to him, masking every bit of emotion I’m feeling. Either he’s doing the same, or he’s really feeling nothing.

“And I’m not going to like die or something if I do this?” I’m shocked and delighted at the steadiness of my voice. “I don’t think I’ll be able to swim with my shoulder.”

“I won’t let you die,” he says, almost sounding like the person I thought he was.

“And I’ll get to see my mom?” I ask.

“If all goes right, you’ll get to talk to her.” Well, that’s more than I could’ve imagined. “If you do, I need you to ask what the weapon was made to do.”

So, that’s what this is all about. “Anything else?” I ask sarcastically.

“The original power source,” he offers, and I roll my eyes. “If you find this out, we’re one step closer to taking out the creatures that have her.”

Right, the not-so-mythical Arcanes. “Fine,” I say and walk toward the lake.

But Lucian grabs my shoulder and turns me back to face him. For a moment there’s more than nothing in his eyes, then that semblance of something disappears.

“Keep your wits about you,” he says like Lucian. In the tone I’m used to.

I won’t be played again.

I jump in the water without looking at him. I don’t take my clothes off either, dry clothes be damned. I’ve already put too much skin into this game.

I watch from below the surface, and when he opens his arms just as he did the first day, I close my eyes and picture my mom. Moments later, the images become a portrait of her sitting in a dark, dirty cell, just as before.

“Mom?” I call. She looks up, directly at me, then around me. Her face is covered in dirt, bruises, and cuts. I run closer to her, but she still doesn’t see me. “Mom, I’m here.”

“Desdemona?” she whispers. “You can’t be here.”

I’m sitting in front of her, reaching for her hand. The sight of her battered makes me nauseous. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I haven’t done enough. I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”

Her voice is stern. “No. I told you, you wait for me to find you.”

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