Page 16 of Wicked Dove
“You should be afraid,” I warn, doubling down on the fake confidence without actually answering his question. His lips curl into a sinister smile, but he says nothing. “Why are you here?” I purposely count to one hundred, baiting a response out of him as his gaze pierces mine, but still nothing. “You are a handful,” I declare, waving a hand at him, and he grunts.
“And you don’t shut the fuck up.”
I lurch forward to sit on the edge of the bed, finger poised and aimed his way. “Excuse me for not being able to settle. I don’t know where the hell I am. I don’t know how much time has passed since I’ve eaten. I just want to go home to my… family.”
My chest rises as I struggle to steady my breathing. I hadn’t realized I was feeling so much. Speaking it out loud helps, but I hate that I’ve overshared with someone I don’t even know. On top of that, my heart aches with worry for Walker.
“Well, good luck with that,” he says with a sigh, tilting his face to the ceiling as he closes his eyes again.
“You sound about as ominous as the last guy I spoke to.”
“Brown jacket?” he asks, not bothering to turn back to me, but I nod all the same.
“Who is that?”
“Drew.”
“You know him?” I blurt, and he shrugs.
“He hauled my ass in, too.”
Nice ass.I immediately shut down the thought, especially since the only times I’ve caught a glimpse are when he’s threatened me and stalked off. No thanks.
“What are you here for?” I ask, suddenly realizing that there’s more to the guy before me than meets the eye. He must have some kind of magic too. But what? It’s not glaringly obvious.
“What’s your name at least?” I press, desperate for any answer, but his breaths are so steady you’d think he is asleep. I know better, though. “If you’re not going to tell me your name or why you’re here, how about you tell me about The Sanctum. Is that less personal for you?” I grind out, and he sighs, turning onto his side to face away from me.
Ass.
“Everyone knows about The Sanctum,” he grumbles, and I blink at his back.
“What day is it?”
A heavy sigh rings through the air. “Friday.”
“Okay, it’s been over forty-eight hours, I think.” My words linger in the air until another grunt falls from his lips, and he spins around to face me this time.
“Since you shut up?” he bites, and I frown.
“Since I learned of The Sanctum.” He raises his eyebrows in surprise and I attempt to push my luck. “Please, tell me everything.”
His jaw ticks, the desire to ignore me heavy, but to my utter disbelief, he parts his lips instead. “The Sanctum is the governing body of our world. They stand for justice, peace, and truth. They bring justice to those who cause pain, peace to those who seek it, and truth to those who are on the brink of losing themselves.”
“That almost sounds poetic,” I breathe, and he snickers, but there’s no humor to the sound. Not even an ounce.
“It’s not. They’re brutal, ruthless, and hell bent on micromanaging everybody.” I gulp at the truth in his tone. It’s palpable. “The Sanctum headquarters are in the Gulf, but they operate all over the world, dominating The Vale.”
“Why?” I mutter, startled by the fact he’s sharing anything at all.
Another shrug. “Because they can. You can’t stand for anything other than what they believe. There’s no other rite of passage.”
I run my tongue over my bottom lip. “That sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“They’ve run things for the past two hundred years. Rebellions have risen against them, all have failed, so I can’t imagine some naïve girl in holding bay seventeen stands a chance.”
The swipe is clear. I purse my lips, trying to stop his words from getting to me, and it works for the most part. “You’re abundle of joy,” I say with a sigh, done with interrogating him now.
Looking to my left, as far away from him as possible, I pause when I notice a small flower carved into the wall.
