Chapter 21 · My Mom Borrowed My Mouth

Cass woke up with Mara's knife at his throat.

Not pressed hard. Just resting there, cold edge kissing the pulse point below his jaw. He didn't move. His head was pounding like someone had taken a bell clapper to his skull from the inside, and his mouth tasted like copper and smoke.

"Don't," Mara said. Her voice was flat. "Don't say you're fine. Don't say you don't remember."

He opened his eyes. She was kneeling over him, one knee pinning his shoulder, the other foot braced on the floor. Her hair had come loose from its tie and stuck to her neck in dark, sweat-damp streaks. The knife didn't waver.

"I wasn't going to," Cass said. His voice came out rough, like he'd been screaming. Maybe he had. He couldn't remember screaming. He remembered the bell. He remembered stepping inside, the hum climbing into his bones, the light bending wrong around the edges of his vision. He remembered Mara yelling his name.

Then nothing.

"You stopped," Mara said. "The bell stopped ringing the second you went in. Then you walked back out and started talking."

Cass swallowed carefully. The knife moved with his throat.