They’re going to use wolfsbane to sacrifice the great-grandfather.
They have to.
How do you know that?
Sorrel, there is no time to discuss what I do and don’t know right now. The most important thing is you escaping.
I can’t. They have me tied up and the wolfsbane is almost ready. Besides, there are four of them and one of me.
You must find a way. Her desperation was loud and clear.
I’m no Houdini.
Is there something sharp nearby you could use?
I peeked my eyes open to see if I could spot something. The only thing I saw was a pair of scuffed-up white nurses’ shoes. Portia’s soft soles had stealthily hidden her footfalls. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was too late.
“The pretty little thing is awake.” Portia nudged me with her foot. “Don’t be shy, love. I want to meet the woman who bewitched my son. Such a naughty girl.” She tsked.
Mom, I think it’s too late. I’m so sorry.
Sorrel, don’t stop fighting. Do you hear me?
I love you. I’ll see you and Dad soon.
I love you, she cried.
I could hear the defeat in her voice, which made me feel all the worse. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have gotten comfortable with Eric. I hated him.
I swallowed what fear I could; it almost strangled me. I opened my eyes and tilted my head back. Up close the woman was even more frightening. Her long gray hair was greasy and stringy. Her bloodshot, translucent blue eyes were darting all over the place, as if she were paranoid. I couldn’t blame her there, living with these men who thrived in darkness and shadows. Men, like her son, who could so easily deceive you. Kill you.
With great effort the woman knelt in front of me. I could hear her bones crack and her joints pop.
I tried to scoot back, to no avail. The restraints were too tight, and I was exhausted.
“Don’t fear me, pretty.” She reached for a knife in the leather sheath around her thick waist. She held it in front of her and looked at it with a childlike wonder. “So shiny and sharp. Just one wrong move and . . .” She purposely pricked her finger with the tip of the knife. Blood splattered on the filthy floor in front of me, making it look as if tiny crimson flowers littered the dirt.
My body uncontrollably shook.
She rested the knife against my cheek and with a malevolent grin said, “Look at you, so young and eternally beautiful. How old are you?”
My mouth had gone so dry, I couldn’t speak.
She applied more pressure, enough to slice my cheek. Blood dripped into my mouth. The saltiness of the blood combined with the stench of dead fish and fear made me vomit and choke.
Portia cackled.
Vincent ran over and hoisted me up with ease while I violently coughed, trying to catch my breath.
One of the other men—the grandpa, I believe—grabbed Portia. “We can’t kill her yet, slag. We should have committed you a long time ago.”
“She will die,” Portia yelled. “She will die, so I can finally live.”
“A lot of good it will do you, old woman.” The grandpa dragged her away while she spit at and slapped him.
Vincent shook his head at me. “Ah, what a pity to cut such a beautiful face. Eric’s mother was never half as tempting as you. Even when she was younger.” With his thumb he roughly wiped some blood off my cheek, making me wince. “You woke up just in time to die.”
Honestly, I was okay with that. Better to die by the curse than be tortured.
“Would you like an up-close view?”
I said nothing, but my knees went weak, and with my feet tied I had no balance at all. I crumpled. Vincent caught me and swept me up into his arms. My skin crawled being so close to him, but there was nowhere for me to go. No one to help me. Tears silently poured down my cheeks, making the cut sting. I never pictured my life ending in such a brutal, pathetic manner.
He cradled my body against his and smelled my hair. “I had no idea the Tellus women were so intoxicating. What a waste that we don’t have time for me to take a taste of you.”
My stomach roiled thinking of him intimately violating me, and I vomited again, this time all down his shirt. I never knew I had such a weak stomach, but how could I know when I had never been so thoroughly afraid? Though I felt no remorse for the mess I’d made on him.
“Ugh.” He angrily tossed me onto a large crate. I found my voice and whimpered in pain. I could feel the splinters of the mildewed wood embed in my skin where my nightshirt rode up. If somehow I survived, I was always going to wear pajamas that covered every inch of my body. But I knew I was going to die. From my new viewpoint I could see my book lying on what looked like a makeshift altar made from crates. There was a silver goblet near it, with steam rising out of it. The great-grandfather paced in front of the altar, checking on the contents of the goblet with each pass. The grandfather stood nearby, holding Eric’s crazed mother back. She was looking at me as she would a fine meal ready to be devoured.