Page 258 of Shifting Hearts 1
The door eased open. Bibi and Babilon slid in like animals claiming a den. Bibi in a sheer nightie that clung and betrayed everything; Babilon in nothing but boxers. The sight sickened me. Morgan had told them no, told them a thousand times, and they didn’t give a damn.
“Just like that, baby,” Cass purred. She smiled up at Babilon as he crept behind her, mouth finding the hollow of her shoulder. He flipped her onto her back, kisses tracking from collarbone down the ridge between her breasts. It was obscene and clinical.
Cassandra rose from the bed while Babilon continued on Morgan. Bibi planted herself at the foot of the mattress like a guard.
“Make it quick. I don’t want her to suffer.”
The words were casual. The meaning was murder.
Something cold and loud uncoiled inside me. I sprang up before I’d decided what I would do. Action felt better than paralysis.
Bibi climbed onto the bed, settling on Morgan’s other side. “Get up, Morgan,” I begged, leaning over Babilon as he kissed her, trying to shake her free. Cassandra stayed by the door, watching.
“Get up,” I said again. “You need to move. They’re going to?—”
Morgan didn’t move. Her limbs lay heavy, expression blank. The drugs had her in a net; she wasn’t enjoying it, not really. She was drifting somewhere inside herself where my voice could not reach.
How do you wrench someone back from that? How do you pull a ghost from a body that refuses to fight?
Cassandra urged them on, a silk whisper turning into a command. “Do it. Now.”
“Get up.” I roared, voice like a snapped bone. “Get up, or you will die.”
Morgan stirred, slow as drowning, head lifting, eyes fogged, focusing on Babilon with the confusion of someone pulled from sleep. Cassandra barked the order and the twins moved like puppets.
Then Morgan’s hands flared. First a blue, hungry light, then a tongue of heat that licked Bibi’s thigh. She screamed, a raw animal sound, as flesh blistered and smoke curled. Babilon reached to pull her back—and Morgan’s hands found him next. His skin blackened where her palm passed.
Cassandra screamed like a banshee, clawing at the air, begging. I stood nailed to the wall, every sense a stone, watching her chamber become an altar of flame as Morgan lost whatever brittle tether kept her human.
Raymond appeared out of nowhere, syringe glinting. He plunged it into her neck, emptied it in one practiced motion. Morgan collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, the fire guttering and dying as if exhausted by its own fury.
My mouth tasted ash. What the hell had just happened?
They hauled me forward; hands firm, unyielding. I followed because there was nowhere else to go. They left Morgan slumped on the floor of her chamber. The door closed behind us with a soft, final click, and all I could do was wait, heart pounding, hands empty, while whatever fate they decided for her took shape in the dark beyond that door.
This was it,the cup finally cracking. They said Bibi and Babilon’s deaths would be the hinge.
She woke with her head pounding like someone had hammered at her skull. The drug left a raw, aching hollow behind her eyes. For a long moment she just listened to theroom, fingers pressed to her temple, trying to remember where she was.
Henry came in then, always the theatrical comfort, like a father who only appears when the scene demands it. He paused, drawing the moment out, but Morgan didn’t care for his drama. She shoved past him and I followed, because wherever she went mattered.
She barreled into Cassandra’s chambers and Cass sprung up from her chair as if the chair itself had stung her. Fear showed on Cass’s face in a clean, delicious line; part of me savored it. A small, ugly smile pulled at my mouth. I wanted to hear how the witch would talk herself out of this.
“What happened?” Morgan demanded.
“Get out of my room!” Cass snapped, brittle.
“What did you do to me?” Morgan screamed, coming closer until the words burned between them.
Cassandra’s fear flickered and then vanished, replaced by cold fury. “Dotoyou? Do. To. You. This is about what you did to Bibi and Babilon.”
Silence hung. Then Morgan’s face crumpled. Tears — dark and furious, welled and spilled. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“You scorched them without thinking. Bringing them into our bed was stupid, but I expected a tantrum, not annihilation.” Cassandra’s voice was venom and performance all at once. She lied again, but she didn’t need to; the motion of the lie served her.
“No, no, no.” Morgan sank to the floor, hands clawing at her head. “Where are their bodies?”
“Their bodies?” Cassandra’s smile was a blade. “They turned to dust, Natasha. Like everyone else you burn.”
