Page 145 of Inside the Wicked

I recoil at the new term,claim,he stakes on me. “You locked me away forweeks.”

“You may find my methods harsh, but you turned out better for them.”

There’s no getting through to someone as delusional as Alistair. He sits in a chair by the unlit fireplace. I wander closer, shifting a look at Liam, who tracks me, but I give him a nod—the only slight reassurance that I’m okay and he will be too.

“I can get him cleared of the charges, you know,” Alistair says. He takes out a cigar but doesn’t light it yet. “I can spin a whole new story that will have your father convinced by the police and politicians around him that he was wrong and this was all a big misunderstanding. Rhett will be free. You will be able to be seen together. All you have to do is swear your fealty to me.”

I want Rhett more than anything. For our relationship to be open and free.

But not like this.

I come around his chair, standing over him as flame sparks from his Zippo to catch on his cigar. “He’s not like you,” I say. “He never has been, and he never will be.”

I pull out my gun, aiming for his head. Alistair doesn’t flinch.

“We’ve been over this before. You’re no killer, Anastasia.”

“You made me one.”

“No. I made you smarter, braver, harder. I made you a master of deceptive charm and allurement. I thought it would work on Silas, but it seems I chose the wrong woman for him.”

When I look up, I see Kenna poised with a gun aimed at me. The reason Alistair is so calm about my threat. Our stares challenge each other, and my chest pounds.

Her eyes flick behind me for a second, and that’s when I throw all sanity away and shoot.

Alistair’s yell of agony from the bullet in his thigh cuts the tension in the room. His cigar flies from his hand, catching on the long curtains, which catch fire instantly.

Well, shit.

I’m still free of bullets, and I look up with my heart in my throat at Kenna, who’s still pointing hers at me. She approaches slowly, tracking me with the barrel, while Alistair flounders in his chair over what to do with the blood pouring from his leg.

“He’s not my kill,” I say, trying to keep my voice from wavering as I can’t be certain she won’t killme. “He’s not Rhett’s either.”

“Get out,” Kenna says calmly. She reaches down for the cigar, watching the curtains get engulfed rapidly by flame.

Liam’s muffled struggle spikes my adrenaline. We have to get out of here.

“Come with me,” I beg her.

She merely takes an inhale of the cigar and wanders over to the next window. Kenna pulls out another lighter, flips it open, and holds it to the curtains.

“What are you doing?” Alistair hisses. “I made you, Kenna Radley!”

When her eyes flick to him, so does her gun, and I tense at the sudden gunshot. It hits his abdomen, and the room becomes a tango of his wails of pain and the crackling of spreading fire.

“You killed Kenaleigh Aster.Imade Kenna Radley,” she says, so cold and detached. Kenna takes one final drag of the cigar before she flicks it into the growing flames.

I’m stunned, heartbroken for her all over again learning her birth name. Her dead eyes lift to me, and I snap into action, racing over to Liam and undoing his bonds. When he’s free, he surges up, grabbing me as if he can protect me, but we both look to Kenna, frozen with what to do. I want to yell at her to come, try to drag her away, but I know it would be futile.

Smoke starts to sting my eyes, and I cough, stuffing my face into my elbow.

“We need to go,” Liam says, pushing me toward the door.

“We can’t just leave her!”

“She’s made her choice!”

Kenna is so cold and chillingly calm in the destruction around her as she climbs onto Alistair’s lap, straddling him. I can’t begin to understand her mind, what this means to her to slay her monster, and maybe she believes she’s truly become part of him too. Her lips angle to his, but there’s nothing in the kiss. Like she’s a ghost.

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