Page 134 of Black Castle

Carla takes her hand with surprising gentleness, placing it on her lap. “You might need a doctor.” She pulls out cotton wool, soaking it in antiseptic. “This isn’t just a minor scratch.”

“This is fine.”

But the moment the ethanol-soaked cotton touches her skin, she flinches, a sharp hiss slipping through her teeth.

Carla doesn’t ease up. She holds her hand firmly, her grip stronger than it should be for someone her age.

“I was in the army, you know,” she casually says as if reading Vivienne’s thoughts. “That’s why I am this strong.”

What?

“I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, child.”

Vivienne stares at her for a while, her mind spiraling. If she was in the army, she must have been such a cold and strict mother. She wonders if she hits Isadora when she doesn’t do something right. And if that’s why Isadora grew up thinking hitting people is the solution to all her problems.

“I don’t know what you are going through.” Carla cuts through her thoughts as she wraps the hand with a bandage. “But it’s obvious your heart is troubled. Thankfully…” she sighs as she seals the ends of the bandage with a plaster. “I know a man who can help you. You don’t even have to do anything. Just tell him everything that is in your heart, and he’ll take away all the burden you are carrying on your chest.”

Even though she has a faint idea of who this selfless, magical wonder-working man is, Vivienne still takes the humor in asking. “Who is he?”

Dramatically, Carla lifts her eyes to the ceiling, her voice taking a reverent lilt. “Jesus Christ, son—”

“I know him.” Vivienne stifles a sigh, cutting in before she launches into a full sermon. “Hallelujah?”

Carla’s lips curve into a knowing smile. With a heavy sigh, she rises, patting Vivienne’s arm in quiet comfort.

Reaching the door, her hand resting on the knob, she turns. “You have no idea how long a prayer within the corner of your room can go, child. He can hear you, you know. And he answers too.”

Carla’s words carry a quiet conviction, enough to make Vivienne hesitate. A part of her almost believes it, makes her want to fall to her knees and beg for something—anything—to take away the ache. But Carla’s God is a God of rules, of right and wrong. And she has done too many wrongs, stained herself in ways no prayer can cleanse. In the eyes of Carla’s God, she is dirty and unworthy. She bet the old man doesn’t even know her name.

At the corner of the room, her phone vibrates. A welcome distraction. Her eyes snap to the blinking light on her study desk where she had abandoned the phone since she got back from school.

She braces her hands on the bed to push herself up, forgetting the fresh wound on her palm. The instant pressure sends a sharp sting up her arm, and she flinches, brows knitted in pain. She waves her hand instinctively as if shaking the pain off will do any good. It never does.

Reaching the desk, she snatches up the phone just as the screen dims. The call times out before she can answer. But it’s Kenji. He will call back.

And he does after a beat.

“Hi.” Her voice sounds dry.

“Are you okay?” Ever so kind and attentive, Kenji senses the atmosphere.

“Yeah,” she says, then clears her throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he demands again.

“I’m fine, really.” Vivienne presses two fingers to her temple, feeling a ghostly throb creeping in. “I just—wait, did you find out about the necklace?”

After everything that happened with James Fadden, they completely forgot about investigating the necklace Zev gave her. Their only shot at confirming if she is being tracked or not. But when Kenji dropped her earlier, his eyes caught the glinting emerald tucking out of her collar. So he took it home to have a look at it.

As Vivienne waits for his reply, she can’t help the panic weaving into her nerves. But she isn’t sure why her heart is racing so fast. Is it fear? It barely feels like fear. But then again, she has been a bit confused with emotions lately—like mistaking infatuation and darkness for love.

“So…” she prompts when he hesitates. “Did you find anything? Is that where the tracker is?”

“Yup,” Kenji replies. “But it’s more than just the tracker.”

“What?” Vivienne feels like she needs to sit for this as her body suddenly lowers itself to the chair next to her desk.

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