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“What you are now is not what you’ve always been, nor is it what you always will be. You are a snake. Shed your skin if it no longer serves you. Transform into something different. Something better.”
“Sometimes it hurts to remember the dead as who they were, rather than who we wanted them to be.”
Qui vivra verra. He who lives, shall see. —French proverb
“It’s the skin of my enemies. Shall I add yours?” He yelped and scrambled away.
Ansel slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. “I’m here, Lou.”
And there, in the center of that primitive stage, stood my mother.
He glanced at Lou, and the terrible fury in his eyes softened. “She could have been ours.”
The world didn’t end in a scream. It ended in a gasp. A single, startled exhalation. And then— Nothing. Nothing but silence.
“Did you love him, Louise?” Morgane’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Did you watch as the light left those pretty brown eyes?”
“You don’t get to do this alone. If you retreat into your mind—into your magic—I’ll follow you, Lou.” He shook me slightly, tears glistening in those frightened eyes. “I’ll follow you into that darkness, and I’ll bring you back. Do you hear me? Where you go, I will go.”
The flames burned too high now for us to retrieve Ansel’s body. He would burn here. This dirty, deplorable place would be his pyre. I closed my eyes, expecting the pain to come, but there was only emptiness. I was hollow. Vacant. No matter what Reid claimed . . . this time, he wouldn’t be able to bring me back. Something dark and ancient slithered out of that pit.
“How . . . cruel.” Nicholina licked her teeth. “They want death,” I said simply. “I’ll give them death.”
