Chapter 17 · Blood Doesn't Lie

The thing under the altar said my name again.

“Quinn Harper.”

Not loud. It didn’t need to be. The voice came up through the cracked stone and into my bones, cold and deep and way too familiar for something that had probably been buried before my great-grandmother learned to lie.

Every light in the moon hall blew out.

Vera screamed first.

Then the guards started yelling because the silver chains around their wrists had gone white-hot. One dropped his gun. It clattered across the marble and spun right up against my boot.

Ronan grabbed my arm.

“Run.”

I looked at him. Blood covered half his face. His collar lay in broken pieces at his feet, smoking against the floor. He was barely standing, but his grip on me was iron.

“Dex,” I said.

“Quinn.”

“Dex is still here.”

The floor jumped under us.

Not shook. Jumped.

A black crack split wider through the altar. Blue-white fire poured out of it, curling around my ankles like it knew me. Like it had been waiting for me to show up and make everybody’s night worse.

Vera was on her knees three steps away. Her perfect hair had come loose from its twist.