Chapter 24 · He Sold Her Out

The wall cracked again.

Not a little hairline split this time. A whole jagged line ripped across the silver-black glass between me and my mother, bright enough to burn white spots into my eyes.

Mom slammed both hands against the other side.

“Mara, move.”

Something huge scraped its claws along the floor behind her.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t. My mother was right there. Alive. Breathing hard. Her hair hung in dirty ropes around her face, and one side of her mouth was split open. Eighteen years gone, and somehow she still looked like the woman from the one photo I kept buried under my mattress.

Then she looked past me.

At Dorian.

Her face changed so fast it made my stomach drop.

“You,” she said.

Dorian stood three feet away, one hand pressed against his ribs. Silver blood ran between his fingers and dripped onto the stone. He looked gray under the emergency lights. Not pale. Dead-looking.

Sable had her gun pointed at the crack in the wall, even though we all knew a bullet would do about as much good as throwing a stapler at a freight train.

“Everybody starts backing up,” she said. “Now would be great.”