Chapter 19 · The Roof Elevator

The elevator smelled like copper and fear. My fear, probably. His blood, definitely.

Lucien hit the roof button twice. His hand left a red smear on the panel.

"You're bleeding," I said.

"I'm aware."

"From earlier or—"

"Does it matter?" He didn't look at me. Just watched the numbers climb. Twelve. Thirteen. "You wanted to go. We're going."

I wanted to go. Ten minutes ago I'd been the one shouting that we had to save Vivian, that we couldn't just leave her up there. Now I was trapped in a metal box with a man who'd picked me because my blood smelled right. Who'd signed me to a contract that burned itself onto my skin. Who'd kept me alive for three weeks and never once told me the last girl died.

Might've died. Might be alive.

Might be bait.

"You used me," I said.

Fifteen. Sixteen.

"Yes."

No denial. No excuse. Just yes, flat and cold, like I'd asked if he took his coffee black.

"You knew what I was when you hired me. You knew Wraith would come. You knew—"

"I knew you had a rare blood type and no family to notice if you disappeared.