Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Leaving Val and Byron behind, I ran in a burst of speed, fast, furious, straight for the mayhem—the fearful, shrieking servants, the dogs ripping through flesh, the stabbing of wildfyre torches as hunters and enforcers tried to drive the beasts back or get close enough to hack at them.
I charged through, slashing and gutting, clearing an area free from dogs. Back here the sound of terror was deafening. The servants were bundled up, tighter than a crowd of concert-goers. They were pushing back, trying to get away from the dogs that made it through the front lines and lunged—
And the servants reared back—
People were falling and being trampled.
I needed to start circling and decimating...but then...
Then I saw her—
And heard someone else—
Irma shrieked my name, "Varen! Varen!"
But my gaze was locked on Tabitha. She wasn't running away, not like everyone else. She ran toward the chaos.
Her hair flailed behind her like a silken scarf. Her arms pumped as she ran, unmindful of that avant-garde dress. From her clenched fist came a flash of silver—a hunting dagger, the honed edge serrated near the hilt and curving to a slender tip. Yet for some strange reason, there were slender fingers of shadows curling around the blade.
Tabitha wove around people, leaping if necessary. She'd kicked her high heels off somewhere along the way and she ran barefoot, fleet and swift. She was heading in a direct line.
Where the hells is she going?
My gaze shot ahead of her, keeping the same line she was running in.
There... She was heading for a boy trembling beside the bonfire.
That kid that had knocked into me earlier at the dance...Frank? Freddie?
And something was lit up around him as if the air sparked with luminesce. At first, I wasn't sure if it was heat waves scattering embers from the bonfire or the kid himself. All the hair on his head began to rise like static electricity teased his locks.
I saw Freddie swing Tabitha's way, his features scrunching as recognition flooded through his ashen face, chased by a deep sense of relief as if Tabitha could make the nightmare go away. "Batha!" he cried out, frozen to the spot.
Except—
One of Jurgana's beasts was headed straight for him.
Tabitha began to shout and wave an arm above her head as she ran.
I could hear her voice, only her voice above the carnage.
