33 
Crimson Angel
I lift the hem of Charlie’s shirt and press my lips to her bare stomach. Her head falls back, and her hair tickles my hands. I trail my way up her torso, slowly rising to my feet. When I’m standing over her, I stop and cup her face in my hands.
The last time Charlie and I were together, she was the one who took the lead. She showed me where she wanted to be kissed, how she wanted to be touched. But the thought of leaving Charlie, of knowing I may never make it back, makes me crave control.
I push my body against Charlie’s until she’s forced to walk backward. She releases a cry of surprise when her back hits the wall. I silence her with a kiss that borders on forceful. I listen for any sound that tells me she doesn’t want it this way, but there’s nothing to be heard.
My hands find her wrists. I pin them over her head and slide my other hand lower. Leaning forward, I kiss her neck. Then I bite the delicate skin there, soft at first, then much harder. Beneath my lips, I feel her throat vibrate with a small whimper.
“Tell me you want me,” I say, my voice deep with lust.
Charlie is quick to respond. “I want you.”
I spin her around so that her stomach pushes against the wall. My hand releases her wrists, and she reaches back to grab onto my thighs. I press against her harder, my hips connecting with her soft frame. My body swallows hers so easily.
“Take off your shirt,” I command.
I give her only a few seconds before I make my next request. “Your jeans.”
She does as I ask, her breath coming faster.
When she’s stepped out of her jeans, she tries to turn and face me, but I keep her pinned there, my abs pressed against her back. My hands twitch, waiting to be released, and when I can’t stand it another moment, I give them what they want. My fingers slide across every surface of her body until we’re both aching to be together.
I step away and wrap my arm around her upper waist. My other arm circles beneath her legs, and I’m carrying her to the bed.
My lips never stray from her skin.
…
When I wake in the middle of the night, my chest is damp with sweat. I’d been dreaming about hell, about a blade biting into the flesh on my left arm and the clicking of demon nails. And about the devil’s favorite torture devices, most of which include ice.
The bed creaks as I roll over, my arm searching blindly for Charlie.
But she isn’t there.
My pulse picks up immediately. And by the time I’ve stepped into a pair of shorts the Quiet Ones gave me, my heart is pounding in my ears.
Something is wrong.
As soon as I know the answer—
He answers the way anyone would after being awakened. “Whaa?”
“Get out of bed!” I back out of his room and find Aspen staring at me. “How can I help?” she asks.
That simple question provides such clarity that I could weep. Aspen is strong. She is fearless.
She is destined to help me steal back Charlie’s soul.
“Go find Valery and Max,” I order. “And Kraven. Tell them Charlie’s not in her room and that Blue and I are looking for her.” My hand sweeps through my mussed hair. “And tell them we haven’t seen Annabelle since before dinner.”
Aspen races from the room. I’m not sure how she’ll find two liberators and one collector in this honeycomb of a house, but I trust her.
Blue appears after Aspen is gone. “You shouldn’t involve Aspen,” he growls.
I ignore his comment because now isn’t the time. “You take a right down the hallway. If you don’t find Charlie or Annabelle, meet me at the front of the house. The place with the three sets of doors.”
We weave through the lounge and spill into the hallway. I’m about to turn left when Blue says, “They’re probably just in the kitchen getting something to eat.”
I can tell he doesn’t believe that, so I just keep walking.
After twenty minutes of searching, there’s no sign of the girls. I tell every staff member I see to bring Charlie and Annabelle to the entrance if they see them, but when I get there, I only see Blue. The way his face contorts tells me he hasn’t had any luck. I nod toward the first set of doors, and together, we start trying different ones. The doors aren’t locked from the inside, which seems like a gross security fail, but I decide Kraven must have his reasons.
I have no idea how Valery memorizes the order when the doors are always being repainted. For a moment, I consider trying to find the hidden door at the back of the mansion, the one Kraven took me through yesterday morning. But I decide if Charlie and Annabelle went outside for whatever idiotic reason, they would have gone this way.
After more than two dozen unsuccessful attempts, Blue and I finally land outside. The moon is full overhead, casting enough light so that I can easily see. As we spread out, our shoes crunching over patches of snow, my heart climbs into my throat. I start thinking about the sirens, about why they’ve been stalking out here in the cold instead of trying to break in. Are they waiting for the collectors to recruit more of them? And why aren’t the liberators doing anything besides training? I hate that we’re practicing defense when we should be all offense.
Then I think of something else, something that makes my breath catch.
Maybe the sirens are waiting for Charlie to come to them. Wouldn’t that be easier? It’s not like she’d stay inside the Hive forever. Sooner or later, she’d go outside—to take a walk, to see the ocean up close.
To find a missing friend.
Before I know what I’m doing, my legs are pumping beneath me. I abandon trying to be quiet and call out her name. “Charlie! Charlie, are you out here?”
Blue follows my lead, and why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t know about the sirens on the cliffside. He knows it’s safe inside the Hive, and that the outside is uncertain, but he doesn’t know how many of the collector’s soldiers cling to the rocks above the sea.
“Annabelle?” Blue hollers. “Charlie?”
A scream rips through the muggy night air.
Blue and I look at each other for one brief moment. Then we’re running. My arms whip up and back, and I sprint like I’m competing in the hundred-yard dash, like every hundredth of a second means the difference between success and failure.
Blue and I round the house, and I see a shape spread out along the ground. As I get closer, I make out short dark hair splayed over pale skin.
I see someone standing near Annabelle’s still body. Their arms are open wide, and they’re walking fast toward Anna.
“Stop!” I shout. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you. I’ll
By some miracle, the person stops moving. I run faster. Faster. Blue is at my heels. We’re only a few feet away when I see who’s walking toward Annabelle.
It’s Charlie.
Her hands are covered in something dark and wet. She drops to her knees.
