Page 89 of The Child of Rue Royale
I pick up Aven, his eyes so big and green, it’s like they’re telling me something. Like a beacon for a boat against a foggy shoreline. I don’t know what the right answer is, but I know that I’m tired of waiting.
“We’ll keep him safe, and we’ll fix this,” Bastian promises, voice suddenly so hopeful my head turns to meet his gaze.
“Of course we will,” I say. We rock our son, back and forth until he falls back to sleep, with no idea what lengths his parents will go to protect him.
The next morning, I stand in the kitchen, texting Chantal about Oksana as a cup of tea pours itself.
Cassius called Bastian forty-five minutes ago, asking him to watch Oksana for a few minutes because he didn’t trust Nicola not to kill her.
“I’ll be back in one hour, exactly,” he told me as he kissed my forehead, his eyes full of concern for leaving us.
“We’ll be okay,” I told him, and he kissed me like he wasn’t so sure.
I note the time, 5:50 a.m., and pray Mother is waking up so we can take the chalice back to Violetta’s house.
A clatter startles me, my gaze darting up to the teapot, now crashed onto the counter, as hot tea bleeds across the white marble. I step back into something warm and soft just as a hand pulls a fistful of my hair and a mouth slinks next to my ear.
“You took something that wasn’t yours, darling.” Violetta seethes.
I scream in my mind, my body freezes, and her grip tightens around my hair and slams my forehead onto the counter and back up.
Hot lightning sears through my head, my vision going white, and my hair feels like it’s being ripped from my head.
“Shit,” I cry, and yank my elbow in front of me and thinkFIRE,jabbing it back into her ribs with everything I have. She flies backward, crashing into the kitchen table, her floral dress sparking from the flames I shot into her. Blowing on her hand and pressing it over the sparks, she snuffs the fire completely out, and I stumble back, feeling warm blood pour down my face and into my eye. All I can think is that Aven is upstairs and I have to keep him safe.
I scramble my fingers across the open text to Chantal, typing random letters. I think I hit send, but my feet are being lifted from the ground. I attempt firing electricity bolts into Violetta’s chest, but my arms are suddenly plastered to my sides as she swipes me across the island, my body shooting into the blender and cutlery until I’m thrown on the floor, my shoulder blades slamming, my head booming.
I slide up the best I can, looking this witch in her cruel, brown eyes. “Violetta,” I yell, pushing a hand out in front of me, collecting as much power as I can, hoping Mother will hear and help me because Violetta is older and more powerful than I am, and the blood is blinding me in one eye.
“I’m honestly relieved it’s all out in the open.” She sighs, her hands folded in front of her, her dress still smoking. “Aren’t you, Rosemary?” she asks, staring behind me, and then something whacks across my head, and everything ceases to exist.
MY EYELIDS ARE GLUED SHUT, and when I attempt to open them, it feels like they’re ripping over my eyeballs.
Slowly, I pull myself from the bed I was cast upon, taking inventory of my surroundings. A tiny room, the same length as the bed, and a couple of feet in front of me, a toilet and sink. It’s a sick room with two doors on each side, and inside each door, a square cutout that I assume can be opened from the other side, so I can be observed.
I swallow; my body is weak and drugged, my mouth parched. I look at the cup on the sink and attempt to use my powers to turn the water on and fill the glass, but nothing happens. I try again, focusing on the water faucet, but it stays completely still, and I choke on a sob.
Memories pummel me of what happened, as if my brain had been turned off and now a flip has been switched and everything dumps into my body.
Violetta and Rosemary took me from the house. Mother and Aven were home, but Bastian wasn’t. Did they take my baby too? What will happen to him? Pain sears through my stomach, vomit building up my esophagus until I’m bolting to the toilet, heaving from the reality that’s hit.
My elbow slides on the toilet bowl, my head falls into my hand, and I scream. I pull every piece of my heart and soul, my rage and indignation into that scream, into my hands, praying some magic will come out, but no electricity zaps from my fingers. My magic has been bound.
There’s a shuffle behind the door, and the window opens, revealing Violetta’s face.
“Oh dear.” She sighs, but I look away. “Darling, that screaming won’t do.”
“You took my magic!” I screech louder, and she squints as if I’m hurting her delicate ears.
“Well, that’s to be expected, darling. Honestly, don’t you feel better that everything is out in the open? I do. I can’t believe you kept a son from us. Now that was quite a surprise. And it’s taken us back, but we are already recovering. We had no idea how dangerous you truly are.” She purses her wicked mouth, lost for a moment in the realization.
“Give me my son!” I scream, my mouth hovering over the toilet. My eyes dart to her, and I’m sure she’s clutching her heart from my insolence. “I just wanted to save my family, you bitch!”
“We are your family, and you betrayed us. One betrayal after another.”
“You wanted me dead, you fucking monster.” Tears fall down my face, the salt burning my tongue. The thought of losing it all, everything I’ve fought so hard for. I screech, I scream until my throat burns, aches for a reprieve, until I feel the beat of my heart in my ear.
It doesn’t faze her, my torture, my sinking, falling through every possible emotion that rips through every layer of my body, right down to my soul.
