The Offering
Page 20

Eden didn’t wait for my help. She just hoisted his entire dead weight by herself and tossed him through the doorway like he was nothing more substantial than a sack of feathers. He landed on the floor without even stirring, and I worried about just how much damage she’d done to him.
I felt sick leaving him behind like that, but we had no alternative. We couldn’t afford to waste any more time. I tried to be more like Eden—tough, and heartless even, and I followed her lead, staying as close to her as I could manage without actually touching her.
Eden seemed to have mapped out our route in advance and knew exactly where we could navigate within the labyrinth of hallways without being discovered. The cloak did its job, and I gave off almost no light at all from beneath the heavy fabric. We became invisible, blending into the very walls themselves. Like shadows.
When we reached the final stretch, the corridor that would lead us to the exit we’d use to make our escape, Eden raised her finger to her lips.
As if she had to warn me to be quiet. I was like a mute already, too afraid to speak. Nearly afraid to breathe for fear the sound of my too-shallow breaths might give us away.
And then I realized it wasn’t me she was worried about.
I could tell by the stiffening of her spine and the odd c**k of her head that she’d sensed we were no longer alone. She held up her hand in a signal, warning me to stay put. I did as I was told, fear of being discovered making me incapable of being anything but obedient.
I told you that you’d be discovered, Charlaina. I knew your plans would be short-lived. Sabara’s virulent words tried to infiltrate what little composure I had left, and I had to remind myself that she was impotent now. She couldn’t harm me.
I watched as Eden faded farther into the shadows until she’d been swallowed up by them completely. Whatever calm Sabara hadn’t managed to crack vanished the moment Eden was out of my sight and I was standing all alone in the darkness with only the insipid flickers coming off my own skin. To call it a glow was laughable. It was feeble at best.
My chest constricted until my breath, which had already been thin and hard to catch, felt like the sheerest of wheezes as it finally found its way to my lips. It grew more labored the longer I stood there, as if the darkness itself were suffocating me.
Just as I was about to strip out of my cloak, to try to at least create more light for myself, I saw Eden emerging once more. “Oh, thank goodness,” I gasped, lunging toward her inelegantly, but there was something in her expression that stopped me cold in my tracks. “What is it? What’s the matter, Eden?”
And then I saw what had her face contorted, why she looked like an animal snared in a trap.
Brooklynn was behind her, matching her stride step for step. But there was nothing casual in their pace. From where I stood, I could see the grip Brook had on Eden’s wrist, and the way Eden’s arm was wrenched low behind her back.
As they came closer, however, everything snapped into place. Eden’s elbow was straight, but her arm was twisted at her shoulder, so that if Eden so much as dared to resist Brook’s hold, if she tried to break away from Brook, Brook had only to elevate the arm, to torque it the slightest bit. It would send Eden into immediate and extreme agony.
I recognized the move from my own training with Zafir.
I wondered what exactly had transpired in those few moments when Eden had been out of my sight. I wondered not just why Brook was gripping Eden in that manner, but how she’d managed to get the drop on Eden—who was taller and more muscular—in the first place.
I was reminded again of Zafir’s tutoring. Size isn’t always the most important thing in battle. Skill—and sometimes surprise—will carry you further than sheer bulk.
“Going somewhere?” Brook questioned, her eyes drilling into me. “Something you forgot to tell me? Some plan”—she paused over the word—“you forgot to mention?”
Eden tried to straighten, but Brook rewarded her with a sharp jerk of her arm. Eden’s face distorted in a mixture of fury and agony that made every muscle in my body tense in reply. Nausea rolled through me as I waited to see what Eden might do next. I imagined she wanted to rip Brook limb-from-limb. Instead Eden said, from between gritted teeth, “You weren’t invited.”
Brook leaned closer, standing on her tiptoes so she could reach Eden’s ear, her own face a study in unwavering resolve. “Well, here’s your chance. Invite me now. Because you two aren’t leaving these walls without me.”
“Brook, no,” I gasped, not sure whether I was reacting to her request or to her treatment of Eden, or both. “You can’t go,” I insisted, finally breaking free from the stupor I seemed to have fallen under as I’d stood watching the two of them. “How did you know anyway? You should be in bed at this hour.”
Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I already told you. There are no secrets around here.”
With that, my stomach lurched. I wondered how much she knew, and worse, if anyone else had figured out what I was up to. “Who did you tell? Does Max know?”
Brook scoffed at the notion. “Are you kidding? He thinks you’re sleeping like a baby at this very moment. You have him as hoodwinked as everyone else around here. No one suspects you’re sneaking around under the cover of darkness, planning to go who knows where, with . . .” She glanced at Eden, her smile growing. “Me and Eden here.”
Eden’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. A smart move, considering her precarious position.