Chapter 8 · The Moon Smells Her

Dorian caught my arm before I made it three steps down the hall.

I jerked free so hard my shoulder slammed into the wall. "Don't touch me."

His hand stayed in the air between us. Big hand. Blood on two knuckles. Probably Sable's blood. His eyes were almost black now, the green swallowed whole.

"Mara."

"No." My laugh came out wrong. Thin. Mean. "You don't get to say my name like we're doing this thing where you explain and I cry and then somehow you're still the good guy."

The basement door behind us stood open. Cold air leaked from it, carrying old stone, dust, and that sharp metallic smell from Sable's stupid little blood vial.

My blood.

Out there with her.

Dorian took one slow breath through his nose. His jaw flexed. "We need to move. Now."

"Great. Give me an address. I'll call myself a car."

"Mara."

"What? You gonna grab me again? Lock me in another room? Hand me over to a bunch of masked freaks for my own good? Apparently that's your thing."

Something ugly crossed his face. Not anger exactly.