Page 224 of Fangs
I glared at him, wishing I could light him on fire like Sky had done to Hawk, but I forced myself to continue eating the stew. He stood like a statue, watching me, and I hoped he could feel the heat of my hatred. Apparently, he couldn’t because, after a few seconds, he spoke again.
“You keep fightin’ them, and this is gonna get even worse for both of you,” he said, low.
A wild laugh escaped. “Oh, should I be like you and just roll over and show my belly like abitch?”
His face reddened. “Bones, you better?—”
“Or do you just like bein’ other people’s lapdog?”
My mouth was running too fast to catch. His eyes flashed, a muscle in his neck going taut, and I instinctively shifted to put myself between him and Roe. I expected him to retaliate with his fists, but he just stood there, jaw clenched.
“They wanted to know every single detail,” he finally said, even quieter. “All about you and Trey and everythin’ that happened. They know all of it, Bones.”
I gaped at him, too angry for words. What the fuck did that mean? Was he threatening me or warning me? Before I could figure it out, Roe let out a choked sob, and I looked down at him. He was clinging to his bowl of stew, eyes wide, and tears rolling down his face.
I wrapped him in my arms, ignoring Sax in favor of comforting Roe. After a few minutes, Sax simply turned and ducked back outside. Roe and I sat in the dim light without speaking for a long time before we eventually resumed eating.
“We should get some sleep,” I whispered once we’d finished, and he nodded.
I waited until he climbed under the furs before blowing out the lantern. Then I waited some more until his breathing evened out before I quietly sobbed myself to sleep.
The next day was exactly like the last. A Voiceless woke us up, and we ate, mounted our horse, and rode until sunset. The closer to sunset it got, the more my nausea grew. They tried to feed me, but I couldn’t eat. Thankfully chugging an entire cup of water seemed to appease them even though it left a bitter taste in my mouth. When Talmar came and got me, I was shaking. Roe sobbed and had to be restrained again, and I didn’t have the energy to try to reassure him. I assumed we were going to the river we’d been traveling alongside, but Talmar led me deeper into the woods. We found the other five standing in a small clearing, waiting. Talmar ushered me to the middle of the circle again, and I tried to brace myself.
“God of Death, we invoke you as humble vessels awaiting your will,” Talmar recited again. “May your shadows guide us and bear witness.”
I scanned the other Voiceless, trying to figure out what horrible thing they would do this time.
“Ember, Goddess of Life,” Talmar said, but I didn’t bother looking at him. “You stand before us with a heart hardened by pride and defiance. You have turned from your divine path and rejected the sacred union with your God.”
I swayed where I stood, the clearing warping in my vision before snapping back to normal. I grimaced, shaking my head slightly, trying to clear it.
“Only by accepting death can one truly honor life.”
Another wave of dizziness hit me and brought me to my knees. The Voiceless didn't move, but their eyes seared into my skin. What the fuck was happening? I stayed kneeling on the ground, my fingers digging into the dirt like I could anchor myself. The outlines of the Voiceless blurred and doubled, the colors growing blindingly bright.
“What?” The word slid out of my mouth and shattered into a million pieces on the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut hard and opened them again. My fingers were no longer digging into the rocky dirt, they were digging into Juck's dead body.
I shrieked and jerked away. My hands were covered in blood, and I wiped them frantically on my pants. Then in one blink, it was gone. Panting, I met Talmar’s gaze, and he smiled.
“You drugged me.” I think I managed to say, but another wave of dizziness had me squeezing my eyes shut again.
“Darlin’?”
My head shot up, and I stared at where Trey stood in the clearing, smiling gently.
“You ok?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
I stared silently at him. This was a trick. It had to be. It was Menace again.
“Hey,” he moved forward and crouched before me, taking one of my hands. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the brush of calluses. “What’s wrong?”
“I know it’s not you,” I whispered.
He frowned. “What?”
“Stop pretending to be him. I know it’s not him.”
“Bones, what are you talkin’ about?” His hand brushed my hair back from my face, and I couldn’t resist leaning into his hand, tears prickling in my eyes.
