Page 46 of The Quiet
Concern crowded the woman’s expression, marked through by the scars of Amiel’s claws. “You’re a lot younger than I expected,” she said breathily. Swallowing once, she said, “You’ve been called up.”
Baker straightened as the woman apologized and took her things. “To the room on the top floor. Just follow the yellow gates.”
Amiel.
Baker felt steel in her mouth as she held her breath. She searched the woman’s face for any indication as to why she’d been called, but there could be only one reason why the name of such a lowly worker would have reached the top.
Baker wrapped herself in her arms and walked past the other servant without saying a word. Her heart pounded and she could only replay her discussion with the stranger through her mind as she started to shake.
She tried to reach for that piece of life she’d stolen from the man weeks ago, her mouth filled with the taste of aluminum as chills peeled through her skin. She tried to channel Marnie’s lightheartedness, the ROSE’s bravery, anything.
Amiel was going to eat her.
The thought sent a surge of horror through her body, but if she ran, no doubt they’d catch her. No doubt, worse would be in store. She had to take her bets here, face them like the ROSE undoubtedly had.
Baker tried to embolden herself on the long trip up the yellow banister staircases to the top chamber, but her body was shaking uncontrollably when she knocked on the door with its bright yellow handle.
A voice beaconed for her to enter and she stepped in. Her eyes moved to Amiel, now in the form of a large, black boa constrictor curled up on an ornate, green couch.
The snake’s purple eyes watched her hungrily, body shifting as she entered into the center of the room. She stood still, facing it with her hands folded in front of her, trembling.
The serpent slid from the couch, drawing a wide circle around her.
“Seems you’ve mixed with the wrong company one too many times,” a voice said from her left, startling her. She turned. She’d been so distracted by Amiel that she hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room.
Baker was confused to see the blond haired Strike, Perilous, lounged out on another couch. Her head was propped up in her hand, golden eyes examining Baker with an open curiosity.
Reading her eyes as if she could read her soul, Perilous smiled. “For such a tiny body, she’s swollen with all sorts of things,” she said, still examining Baker now as if perplexed by her. “The first time I’ve seen you feed off of someone and this is who you choose? I mean, I know you love ROSE sympathizers, but she’s a little young for your taste.”
Baker’s heart drummed. Amiel encircled her now, head and neck taught as if prepared to strike, raising its body up in a way that made Baker want to hide her neck.
“She’s not here because of hunger.” At the sound of the male voice, Baker was suddenly aware of a third person in the room. This time, she did not jolt or turn, her eyes still frozen on Amiel as the serpent’s head lowered and it eased slowly away from her and morphed into a large black dog.
Perilous smiled, still watching Baker as if watching a performance of feeling.
Baker turned, panic dissolving into shock. The third person was sitting with his arm against a table, a wine glass balancing in his fingers. His eyes did not dig into hers like the other Strike, she did not feel as if she were being evaluated or examined.
He wore long black sleeves that covered his arms, but his hands had no gloves, revealing the blackened fingers of a Strike. His other hand glittered as a silver coin flitted through his fingertips.
“It looks like I have quite the task set out for me.” He took a sip from his glass before setting it down and standing up. “Then again, so do you.” He crouched in front of her and she stayed paralyzed in the wake of a man she’d met only weeks before.
She watched his dark green eyes, knowing now what his fearlessness meant.
She had seen all of the Strike aside from this one, and knew who it must be.
As if seeing her thoughts, his smile returned. Amusement in all things.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, a red ring igniting slowly around his irises.
This was Strike Peter.
This was Death.
CHAPTER 13
WATER BETWEEN WORLDS
ELLA WAS CAUGHT in a dream, drifting in space, overlooking a quaint, bustling village. There was so much life there, so many houses with flagpoles suspending a symbol similar to the sun depicted on the Imperia’s flag. Of course, in the Imperia the flags were yellow, and these rippled with a deep, royal blue, with a single silver stripe at the end that flickered like a fish tail when the sun caught it through the water.
