Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“I’m surprised you speak so highly of it after what happened to you.” He raised his chin and looked at me, his hands together as they hung off his knees.
I pushed my food around before I took a bite. “It’s not the city’s fault. It’s the people who took us.”
“Us?” he asked. “They took you both at the same time?”
I nodded.
He rubbed his hands again, sliding his dry palms across each other. “That’s unusual. They usually only take one girl at a time.”
“Who’s they?”
“The hunters.”
So that man outside my apartment had had his eyes on Melanie, must have noticed her somehow. It wasn’t his first time; he knew how to spot a submissive type, someone who would just do what they were told without causing a fuss. “I noticed one of the hunters staking out my apartment one night. He watched Melanie leave and walk down the sidewalk. But when he walked the other way, I thought I was being paranoid. A few nights later, we were in a wine bar. I was talking to my friend, and she was with some guys on the other side of the room. She’s gorgeous, so she always attracts admirers. When I saw her leave with them, I recognized the hunter from outside my apartment.”
His hands went still, and he watched me, holding his breath even though he knew how this story ended.
“I went after her, told her about the guy lurking outside her apartment, but she never listens to me…so she ignored what I said. I lost my temper and said things I didn’t mean—”
“What kind of things?”
“That I was tired of taking care of her…cleaning up her messes. Our mother passed away when I was eighteen, so I took care of her until she was an adult. But she makes terrible choices, over and over, and I was always the one who had to deal with it. When she was old enough, I moved to Paris just to have my own space.” My eyes fell in shame, for saying those things, for thinking those things. What kind of sister was I? “That only hurt her feelings more, so she got into the car. I didn’t know what else to do to keep her safe. There wasn’t time to call the police, especially when I didn’t even have any proof of my suspicions and they probably wouldn’t send anyone, so I got in with her.”
He held my gaze, his hands still, as if my story hit him deep down.
It was a stupid decision that led me to this insufferable existence.
“She must feel like shit.”
She’d tried to apologize to me, but I never forgave her. “If I could change my decision, I wouldn’t. I would have done everything all over again, because I couldn’t live not knowing what happened to her. She’s all I have left, and I’d rather die with her than live without her.”
His hand started to move again, and he dropped his gaze, as if he were replaying that story inside his head over and over. “It makes a lot more sense now.”
“What?”
“You’re not the type of woman they go for. They want someone obedient. You aren’t like that.”
I stared down at my food and pushed it around even though I was hungry. “Is that why you like me?”
He didn’t say anything.
When the silence continued, I lifted my head and looked at him.
He kept his head down, his eyes on his hand. “You do exactly what I would do…if I were in the same position.”
I stared at him and felt my affection grow, felt a connection that hadn’t quite been there before. It was the first time someone had showed me some kind of respect, complimented my disobedient qualities rather than trying to suppress them.
“And if there really is no chance to get away…would you still try?”
He lifted his chin and looked at me, those brown eyes shifting back and forth as he looked into mine. There seemed to be a lump in his throat because he swallowed, his hands still gliding past each other, the veins on the tops of his hands slipping under his sleeves. “Yeah, I would—because I’d rather die out there than live here.”
14
Thief
I already knew where Magnus would take me that morning.
There was snow everywhere.
The storm had swept through the camp, returning it to disarray, the branches heavy with the snow piled on top, all the roofs coated, the stairs and railway covered in white powder.
It might look like a winter wonderland…if you didn’t know what happened here.
I struggled behind him because I wasn’t tall enough to navigate as quickly.
When I fell behind, he turned around. “Step over the snow. Don’t push through it.”
I took his advice, and it became a lot easier. “You don’t do that.”
He ignored what I said and escorted me to the same place as last time, where the shovels were leaned against the house, waiting to be claimed.