to my mouth without asking.
Instinct overpowered my desire to shove the glass away. I doubted I could do anything close to shoving anyway. I probably couldn’t swat a fly away.
I swallowed through the rawness of my throat. My tongue was thick and parched in my mouth.
When Ren took away the glass, letting me catch my breath, he said, “They told me they were giving you food and water.”
I was surprised to see him frown.
He gave me another swallow and I decided to try talking again.
“They do,” I rasped. “But not that often.”
“I’ll fix that,” he said. “There’s no reason to treat you this poorly.”
My lip cracked when I smiled. “Since they’re going to kill me soon enough anyway.”
The news of my execution didn’t come as a surprise. I’d been expecting it every day. Even after I lost count of days. At this point I was ready to welcome it. I wondered if Bryn was dead. And Mason. Had the Keepers decided to eliminate all the young Nightshades?
I squeezed my eyes shut tight, having made that terrible mistake: thinking for even a moment about Bryn. I had to push the memory of her away. I’d heard her screams coming from another cell, their tinny echo bouncing off my cell walls, worse than any torture the Keepers could have subjected me to. Then the screams had been replaced by silence, which scared me even more.
“They’re not going to kill you.” Ren’s voice broke through my slide into despair over Bryn.
I forced my eyelids up. “Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t your fault,” he answered. “It was hers.”
My mind flashed back to the dream. Calla’s wolf running free, running away from me no matter how much I cried out to her.
I knew Ren could read the pain on my face, though I’d looked away from him.
“How do you think I feel?” he asked.
Turning my gaze back to him, I searched his dark eyes. Behind the strength and health of his body I could still see it-he was haunted. Something in him was broken and bleeding. But he was still a wolf. And I couldn’t forgive him for that.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, though I couldn’t muster any heat with the words. “The Keepers can do what they want to me. I have nothing more to lose.”
“But you have a lot to gain,” Ren countered.
My heart pumped harder, in a way I wished it hadn’t. I squirmed another foot away from him.
“No,” I whispered. “I don’t.”
Ren didn’t try to approach me, but from where he sat he spoke slowly. “I think we feel something similar. About being left behind. About being betrayed.”
I didn’t answer him. Bile began to climb from my stomach into my throat.
“But I can’t imagine how you feel now,” Ren continued. “Without your wolf.”
My fingers curled against the cold metal floor. I couldn’t speak. Shame and sorrow were rising up, threatening to drown me.
“They did the worst thing they could to you,” he said, bowing his head. “They know that. But Ansel, can you imagine how angry Calla made them? She spit in their faces. She turned against everything she’s ever been given, and they gave her all she could want.”
His voice had begun to crack. I tried to look at him, but his head was bowed so far, I couldn’t see his expression.
Not wanting to admit that his words were water in the fissure of the last resolve I had, I said, “They killed my mother.”
“I know.” Ren lifted his face. He wasn’t crying, but in the fluorescent light, his eyes brimmed. “And there’s nothing that will change her punishment. She’s gone.”
He stood up, turning his back to me. “The Keepers’ laws are clear. And the punishments for violating those laws are also clear. Your mother knew that. Calla knew that.”
I tipped my head back, letting the crown of my skull rest on the wall. I couldn’t deny the truth of it. We’d all been so foolish. I’d been such a child. I told Calla I’d break the rules for her. She and Ren had broken the rules so Bryn and I could be together. We were on the road to hell and we should have known it.
“All that’s left is for us to start over,” Ren said, returning to my side. He sat down, his back against the wall in a mirror of my posture.
Dropping my head into my hands, I told him, “There’s no starting over for me.”
“I’m telling you there is,” he said. “That’s why I’m here. To offer you a second chance.”
I worried that I’d slipped into some new dream. Another torment offered up by my eroding psyche.
Ren’s gaze was earnest when I turned to look at him.
“What the Keepers took from you, they can give back.” He refused to break our gaze when he spoke, letting the words settle in. “I swear to you, Ansel.”
I knew there had to be a catch. That all was not forgiven.
As if he anticipated my next question, Ren hopped up. “Think about it.” He walked to the door, banging on it with his fist. When it opened, he turned back. “And think about what she did.”
When the door slammed and Ren was gone, I reached for the glass of water he’d left behind. My hand shook so badly that I only got the glass halfway to my face before it jumped from my fingers.
I stared at the water as it pooled around my feet.
As if I’d thought about anything else since the night she left.
When the door opened this time, I was awake. Ren entered and for the first time I wasn’t surprised to see him. Behind him, Logan Bane strolled into my cell, making my bones shudder. Ren’s good-cop bit was obviously over and Logan’s bad cop was bound to be a showstopper with a wraith backing him up.
Hope followed by despair was the worst torture. I should have known.
Logan tilted his head, looking me up and down. “He is a bit worse for wear, isn’t he?”
Ren gave a stiff nod.
“Hopefully we can amend that.” Logan kept his distance but smiled at me. “I have an offer to make you, Ansel. I think you’ll find it quite generous.”
I remembered the first time Logan had come into my cell. Ren hadn’t been there, but Logan’s father, Efron, and Ren’s father, Emile, had been. That visit brought no offer of redemption. First, there’d been Emile’s fists. I supposed it was better than his teeth, but even that thought didn’t take away the pain of the heavy blows Emile took obvious delight in delivering.
After Emile was through, Efron had summoned a wraith. I’d tried so hard to be strong. Brave, even. I’d spat at them. Shrieked curses and hatred as long as I could. But soon enough I’d only been able to scream. And eventually my voice disappeared altogether, though my body still writhed in pain while the wraith clasped me in its black tendrils.
Lifting my eyes to meet Logan’s assessing gaze, I half wondered where my anger had gone. Part of me thought that even looking at one of the creators of my misery should make every insult I knew boil out of my mouth. But whatever will to fight back, to resist, I’d once had was gone. I was so tired. Of this place. Of life. I just wanted it to be over.
My cell door stood open and a Bane elder came into the room, carrying a chair.
“Thank you,” Logan told the guard as the Bane set the chair down to face me.
With a curt bow, the Bane elder left-slamming the door behind him.
Logan settled into the chair, pulling a pack of Djarum Blacks from his jacket pocket. He crossed his legs, lighting a cigarette and watching me. He gave a quick jerk of his chin and Ren came to stand beside me, ready to block any attack I might make.
That almost made me laugh. As if I were any sort of threat to Logan. As if I could do anything to him. Even if I still wanted to.
While smoke curled around him, Logan asked, “Do you miss your life, Ansel?”
