Page 144 of A Taste of Torment
Jarron. Weak and helpless, lying in a pool of his own blood because of me. And his own brother has abandoned him?
“Are you going to play along or not?” Mr. Vandozer asks, pressing the knife tighter against Jarron’s throat. Black blood streams down his neck.
I don’t know what to do. What to say. If Jarron is unconscious, it won’t matter if his magic comes back. It’ll take too long. Mr. Vandozer will kill him before then. “Tell me about Liz,” I whisper. I don’t even want to hear it, but I do. I don’t want to have her memory tainted, but I also want to know.
If this ends in my death, I can at least get that much, right? Jarron is still motionless, other than a few shallow breaths. How much longer? How long can I wait? And will it make any difference at all?
Hopelessness digs its claws into my windpipe, making it hard for me to breathe.
“What do you want to hear, Candice? How Jarron imprinted on her when she was thirteen but never got the chance to woo her because you pulled her away from him? How when I entered her life, she fell at my feet in only days, begging me to bond to her so she could be powerful? How she was so thirsty, desperate for what I could give her?”
No, no. I shake my head but don’t utter a word. Let him speak, let him give me the time. Time that may or may not make a difference. But I have to try.
“My sister was a fool,” I say.
Mr. Vandozer curls a lip. He doesn’t like that answer.
“Being thirsty for power makes you weak. Just like you.”
A resounding boom shatters its way through the arena, and I gasp. The ground rattles. I twist to Jarron, but he remains an unmoving heap of grey-skinned limbs and horns.
“What did you do?” Mr. Vandozer whispers, his expression exposes his uncertainty for the first time.
My eyes widen too, and for a moment—a sweet, delicious moment—I can pretend it is my own doing. That I have some power hidden deep inside that would come out now when I need it most.
That I could destroy him. Rattle this entire academy down to its foundation and make this powerful man that hurt my sister—manipulated her, killed her—fear me.
God, there is nothing I want more.
Nothing I wouldn’t give to make it true.
But it’s not.
Whatever is happening, isn’t me. It isn’t my doing.
I don’t even know what it could be. Jarron is so still he could already be dead for all I know.
Another shrieking crash shakes the walls. Mr. Vandozer stumbles back.
“Someone is coming,” the white light says calmly. “From the outside. They’re breaking down the barriers.”
I scramble to my feet. If we make it out of this before I sign, Mr. Vandozer will be exposed. He needs me to sign.
Jarron is no help to anyone right now. He can’t save me. He can’t even save himself—and that’s my fault. Mr. Vandozer grabs the fallen dagger and races to Jarron. There isn’t enough time.
“Wait!” I call. “I’ll sign the contract.”
Mr. Vandozer shifts his attention to me, eyes fully black—no whites at all. Straight black horns have sprouted from his head. His skin shimmers and then loses its pigment, turning an icy white. His fingers elongate into sharp talons as he prowls toward me.I blanch from the horrible sight of his true form.
My knees wobble, and tears well in my eyes.
Once, it was Jarron prowling like this. He forgot who he was. Who I was. I was terrified of him, and it wasn’t even me he’d had his sights set on. He wanted Liz.
My broken heart aches.
I had no power then. And I have very little now. But I do have something.
After only a quick search of the floor I find the fallen pen and hold it up.
