“There now,” he says, kneeling down in front of me, which absurdly brings his head basically eye-level with mine. “You trust me, right?” he asks, and, sniffing, I nod vigorously. “And you know I’d never let anyone hurt or take Rafe, yes? Again, I nod. “Then, sleep, darling,” he says, lifting a ha
Cora “Um, should we go get Ella?” I ask, hesitant. Because while I do just want to spill everything right here, right now, while I feel so safe with Roger, I do know that Ella will want to hear this. And quite frankly, I don’t want to tell it twice. Roger stays still for a moment but then he star
“What is it, Cora?” I whisper, wanting to let her go at her own pace but also dying to know. “The man,” she says, looking up and meeting my gaze. “Don’t you remember him, Ella?” “I – I didn’t see him, Cora,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t see what you saw in the hypnosis. Maybe if I did – I’d h
Sinclair As Cora sits on the bed with her sister, I meet my brother’s eyes above her head and nod towards the door. He nods as well, agreeing. He places a hand on Cora’s shoulder and gives her a little squeeze before heading to the door. Ella turns towards me as I stand up, grabbing my phone and h
“Good,” I say, standing up straight and nodding, looking back to my phone to again chase down that sketch artist. “You’ll go tonight. Take Cora.” “What?!” “After she is done with the sketch artist,” I continue, looking up to meet his eyes seriously. “You’ll take her to this library with you.” “Wh
Cora That evening, our car rumbles down the road towards the archive, Roger steady at the wheel. Another car with two guards follows behind us, keeping a steady eye out for anything strange. I sigh, already exhausted, even though I got more sleep than Ella or Roger or Sinclair last night. Still –
“Yup,” Roger says. “Are you ready to go in? Do you need a minute?” I stretch in my seat, my eyes closed, and take a mental inventory of myself. Body? Stiff, but all right. Mind? Thoroughly shaken. Heart? …best left uninvestigated, for the moment. “Yup,” I say, turning a sunny smile Roger’s way. H
Cora About three hours later I am…over books. As a genre, in their entirety. My hands are dusty, and I’m sick of the smell of musty old pages, and they’re just so boring – Page after page of history regarding shifter worship practices – who genuflected to this god, and how, and where, and for how