Page 61 of This Ravenous Fate
“We have to go,” Elise said sharply. She wiped the last of her tears away and, forcing a smile onto her face, left the alcove to rush back into the crowd.
***
As Layla stood near the dance floor with Jamie, her mind remained stuck on the Saint heiress. She had followed the scent of her blood to find the girl nearly drowning in her own panic. The sensation of her rushing pulse still fluttered beneath her fingers while she tried to focus on the party around her.
“Listen.” Jamie grabbed her by the hips and pulled her body flush against his. Her cheek pressed to his chest, and when he whispered, his breath brushed her hair. “The couple next to us is talking about Stephen Wayne.”
With the music and singing overpowering her senses, Layla only caught bits and pieces of the conversation.
“He’s unveiling something big…”
“There’s no such thing as a cure…”
“If anyone can do it, it’s Stephen…”
Layla’s blood went cold. If people were beginning to conspire about a cure, then maybe it did really exist. She had to tell Elise—
A sharp whistle suddenly cut through the air, bringing the rowdy room to a more tolerable hum of excited energy. Layla stopped dancing with Jamie and looked up to find the source of the whistle.
On a balcony above everyone else stood Tobias Saint and Stephen Wayne. They both had lifted their masks so their faces were visible to the entire room. Layla couldn’t resist the urge to look around for Elise again.
But still, no luck. She turned back to face the balcony, her breath heavy while she waited for their words.
“I have had many people ask me why I spend so much time with this fine gentleman,” Mr. Saint began. He clapped his hand over Stephen Wayne’s shoulder and beamed at him like he was seeing a lifelong friend for the first time in ages. “Besides the fact that he is a wonderful friend and person, he is also just brilliant. Stephen Wayne matches the intensity at which I aspire to eliminate reapers from our world. So many of us have been affected by their deadly touches and we are here to prevent that lethality from spreading any longer.”
Uneasy prickles traveled over Layla’s skin. From the constant horrors she saw most days, blood leaking from her fingers and flesh stuck beneath her nails and between her teeth, she understood people’s loathing toward reapers. Layla believed she had enough hate for herself to fill this entire room. But that didn’t make the sting of their anger hurt any less. They only deepened the wounds she alreadymade herself, encouraging her to slice deeper and with more fervor the next time she engaged in penitence for her soul.
Stephen Wayne stepped forward. His blond hair shone under the bright lights, his eyes glimmering with an emotion that appeared a bit too sinister to be pure excitement. “It’s true. My donations have funded research toward a solution to this reaper problem. While Tobias has been brilliant in leading reaper executions, my dear friend Dr. Harding created a way to take fewer lives while simultaneously improving hundreds of lives.” He gestured to an older man with thin white hair and sunken black eyes who stood at the base of the staircase leading into the room. Instead of waving, the old man glowered, as if he was miserable to be there.
Stephen Wayne merely continued, his tone jovial as ever, “Reapers have existed for centuries, never able to be tamed. We can kill as many reapers as we want, but they will only keep coming. They have spread to other countries, and that has made our international relations unstable. Our country is not as great as it once was. I am of the belief that the only way to completely end something is to fix it. Or in this case, to cure it.”
Layla’s breath stilled in her chest. She gripped Jamie’s arm so hard, he snatched himself away from her. But she didn’t care; she could only focus on Stephen Wayne.
“With funding from my foundation and the Saints, as well as Dr. Harding’s research, we vow to cure reaperhood once and for all,” he exclaimed. The crowd burst into a troubled, but excited commotion.
Layla’s heart swelled, her eyes flashing like jewels in an accusinglight. A smile broke across her face and for the first time since becoming a reaper, she felt pure, delicious hope.
26
Elise watched Layla go rigid at Stephen Wayne’s announcement. She couldn’t believe it. A cure was a cruel thing to hang over the heads of reapers and humans. Humans, who lived in fear of being turned over to hell by reaper attacks, and reapers, who lived long enough to feel the wrath of hell’s burn, never knowing true relief.
“Wow,” Sterling murmured.
Elise pulled him closer to her. “He told me he was taking a break from this because of Thalia’s death.”
“I guess that break is over,” Sterling said.
People around them whooped and raised their glasses into the air to celebrate Stephen Wayne. Champagne slicked the floor, confetti sticking to the bottom of Elise’s shoes while she turned to survey the crowd. They had gotten drunk on liquor, then were lulled by his words that could only have been deceptive at best. Elise knew a leader’s public image thrived on rhetoric; whether their messagewas true didn’t matter. What mattered was how convincing it was. His message reeked as strongly as the spilled alcohol around them.
There is no cure for reaperhood.
“We have a problem.” Jamie’s voice turned Elise to him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, from the drinks, the stress, or both. He ran a hand over his blond hair and grimaced. “I can’t find Layla.”
“What?” Elise snapped. She glared. “You imbecile, good-for-nothing—”
“I’d watch how you speak to me, Saint scum,” Jamie hissed.
Elise whirled to respond, but Sterling stepped between them, hand drawing his gun from his shoulder holster. “Don’t even look at her.”
