Page 49 of A Taste of Torment
“I went,” he says, voice low. “Last Sunday. I took a few pictures, but I couldn’t find anything remotely like this.”
I frown. It’s all very odd. “These games, they’ve taken place before, I take it?”
“There’s scattered evidence of them taking place over the last few hundred years at least.”
“Do you have that evidence? Are there books on the subject? Can you get your hands on them?”
“I don’t know of many books, but I’ll gather what I can. And asking around about it may backfire, but I will see what I can do.”
My mind is still spinning so rapidly I can’t tell which way is up.
“Would you like to sit outside for a little bit?” Jarron asks softly.
“Fresh air sounds nice,” I admit. I stand on wobbly knees, and Jarron tenses, like he’s unsure if he should touch me, help me. But I force my legs to obey and manage to walk out onto the patio on my own two feet.
The air is frigid, and a chill sweeps over me immediately, but it also soothes my tight lungs. Jarron flicks his wrist, and the table to the right alights in a small blue flame, warming the area.
I shift closer to the warmth with a small smile.
“Can I ask you something?” Jarron whispers after a while.
I sniff, hands out to the warmth of the flame. “Sure.”
“Why did you swear off all things magical?”
I pull in a quick breath.Why did you leave me?That’s what he’s asking.
I bite my lip, heart hammering. I try my best to explain my insecurities. “When the people you spend time with are a million times stronger than you, it makes you vulnerable. I realized I had no control with people like you. I hate that feeling.”
He’s quiet for a long time. The wind rustles in the trees beyond the open balcony. The mountains in the distance have a scattering of snow along the top.
“You don’t really think I’d hurt you, do you?” he says eventually.
My heart skips a beat. Jarron is still a suspect in my sister’s murder, but mostly because I have so little to go on.
The pieces fit, a bit too well for comfort.
But one look in his eyes tells me to trust him.
I’m just not sure I should believe my stupid heart. “I don’t know,” I whisper. A truth that pains me. I want to believe him. I want this friendship back.
Jarron stops, twisting so quickly I barely see it happen, and then he grips my chin with a featherlight touch. My breath catches, staring into his bottomless black eyes. “I swear, I will not let anyone harm you. Not even me.” His voice is gravelly, desperate.
I try to ignore the flutter in my chest.
“I hate this,” I whisper, more truths finding their way to the surface. “I hate feeling powerless. Weak.”
Jarron releases my chin and straightens. “Candice, if only you knew how much power you have over me, you’d never feel weak again.”
22
Will Jarron Tell Me he Loves Me Before he Strangles Me to Death Too?
I stareat Elizabeth’s journal—her bubble letters and cute doodles on the edges. I miss her so much it’s literally painful. And it’s so much worse because I can’t tell anyone the things I’m feeling.
I would have told her, though. She’d have understood. She’d have told me how to deal with this.
I flip through the pages and pages filled with her thoughts, her feelings, her hopes and dreams. The image of her limp, bloody hand flashes through my mind.
