Page 86 of Iron Roses

I feel her fingers twitching. Trying to break the ropes.

I feel everything.

The third stab—deeper.

Blood spills down her thigh. Her mouth opens. She tries to call for someone.

Cassian’s name.

My name.

She doesn’t know which.

The fourth stab is through her collarbone.

Her body convulses. My throat rips. I scream.

Louder this time. Screaming her scream.

Feeling her dying. Each cut like a bell rung through flesh and bone.

The fifth stab lands in her stomach. Her eyes roll.

She falls forward. Her head hits the floor.

A smear of blood on tile. And I fall with her.

****

The car moves beneath me like a tide I can’t feel.

I lie on my side, knees half-drawn toward my chest, arms bound tightly behind my back. The seat beneath me is not a seat at all. It’s flat, hard, covered in rough fabric that scratches my skin every time the vehicle turns.

I’m blindfolded.

I don’t remember when that happened.

The cloth is tight, pulled hard around my skull, pressing into my temples. Sweat has soaked the edges. It smells like oil and dust.

My mouth tastes of metal.

I try to move my fingers. They twitch, but they do not obey. The plastic tie around my wrists has bitten into the skin. My hands are already going numb.

The engine hums low, steady. We haven’t stopped since I was taken.

I count three right turns.

Then the pitch of the tires changes.

The car drives over something hollow. The sound echoes upward.

We’re on wood. My stomach tightens.

The car rolls forward another ten feet before it stops. The engine clicks once as it’s cut off.

I hold my breath. The doors open.

Footsteps.

---