“The others see them as trophies, marking victories well won, but they’re nothing more than shackles, reminders of the things, the awful things, I’ve done. They’re on me forever, never letting me forget. I tried to go—to leave the Kindred—earlier this spring, but they pulled me back anyway. I can’t escape my past, Ellerie. There’s no point in trying.”
I fell to my knees, grasping at his hands, desperate to change his mind. Hot tears streamed down my face. “You can. Just tell me her name. Whitaker, please.”
He shook his head. “I wish I could.”
“Then do it! Just say it,” I pleaded.
His eyebrows furrowed together. “She won’t let me. It’s impossible.” He opened his mouth, and his lips pursed as if to form a word, but nothing came out.
I tangled my fingers through his. They’d always felt so strong and sure before. Now they hung between mine, wavering and complacent.
“There must be something…” I trailed off as a bit of movement caught my attention. A white dress flickered in and out of the trees, always on the edge of my vision. Silver eyes, there one moment and gone the next. It was like trying to focus on heat waves in the dog days of summer.
I’d almost convinced myself the movement was a figment of my imagination, but then Whitaker froze, confirming her presence. His face hardened, growing distant. The edges of his eyes flickered like a predator’s at night.
Not the boy I knew and loved.
The creature.
“There’s nothing. Not even for the girl who can name every flower. The girl who thinks she can name the stars. The girl who thought she could name me.”
His voice rang cold, his tone barbed and cruel. Was he acting for her benefit, or did her presence simply reveal him as he’d always been?
“Whitaker, I—”
He pulled me to my feet, swift and strong. And then his lips were on mine, moving with thorough deliberateness. He swept me against him, his hands curved at the back of my neck, loosening my braid. Silky strands whispered across his fingers.
It was a kiss goodbye, I realized too late, tasting of salt and regret.
When he broke away, he trailed his thumb over my lips, memorizing their lines before pushing me backward, causing me to stumble from him.
“Whitaker!” I gasped, stunned.
He turned, unable to meet my gaze. “Go back, Ellerie. Go back and get out of Amity Falls. Go now before you can’t.”
“I can’t leave Samuel to die.”
He bared his teeth once before fading into the woods’ embrace. “He would you.”
I stared after his retreating form, blinking with incoherence. He’d left me. He’d admitted to all the terrible things his twisted family had planned—the terrible things he’d already done himself—and then he’d left me.
Alone.
With her.
I spun back to where I’d last seen the almost-not-quite suggestion of her form, but there was nothing but pines now, dark and unyielding.
Then, a shift behind me.
Her.
I whirled around.
She was smaller than I’d imagined, clothed in a fine dress of white eyelet lace. An afternoon dress, as if she was civil enough to be on her way to a tea.
Her hair was as dark as a midnight sky, worn half up, with the loose ringlets curled so perfectly, they looked like a porcelain doll’s. Her cheeks held a rosy hue, just shy of a blush. Thick lashes framed her eyes, which were an impossibly vivid shade of green, though they reflected light like a feral animal’s as they shifted directions, giving off quick flashes of silver.
“Ellerie Downing,” she drawled, soft and sweet. “We finally meet, face to face.”
“I’m not accustomed to not knowing my companion’s name,” I called out, my bravado ringing false in my ears.
Her full lips curved into a smile, and she waggled one finger back and forth as if I was a naughty child. It was too long. Much too long, with painfully gnarled knuckles and a talon-like claw for a nail.
“You’ve caused quite a stir among my Kindred,” she said. “Your name rings hot on all our lips.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
Her carefully composed expression twisted into a smirk. “In all our years, we’ve never encountered someone with the audacity to name one of us. What was the ridiculous moniker you came up with? Whitten? Whitehead?”
“Whitaker,” I said, taking the bait.
Another smirk. “Whitaker. He’s grown quite fond of you. Too fond, really. It’s actually rather a nuisance.”
I called upon every bit of mettle within me to not tremble before her. “Am I meant to apologize?”
She shrugged lightly. “It doesn’t matter in any case. Even without Whitaker’s help, the die has been cast.”
“Without his help? He brought you here in the first place!”
She nodded. “For what it’s worth, I suppose that’s true. It really was quite the idyllic spot for a hunt. I certainly didn’t expect the game to take such a turn. It’s been fascinating to watch. And of course, you’ve added such a delightful twist to the play.” She grinned, flashing the sharp barbs of her teeth.
“Me?” I blinked, hoping it was a trick of light, but no. Her teeth fanged into points, strange and translucent. They reminded me of the pike Papa often caught in the Greenswold, with rows and rows of teeth, waiting to sink and tear.
“Oh yes. It’s why I wanted to meet you. I’ve come to make you an offer, you see.”
“What on earth could you possibly have to offer me?”
Her head tilted, cocking to the side and spilling her lustrous hair down one shoulder. “I would have thought that was obvious.”
“What?”
“Why, the safety of your family, of course. Merry and…who’s the little one? Sadie!”
Hearing my sisters’ names on her lips made my stomach ache, feeling oily and sick. “Stay away from them.” Warning laced my words, however futilely. If she decided to harm them, how was I to stop her?
Her laughter rang out, as bright as tinkling glass, silver spoons chiming against fine crystal. It almost dazzled me into forgetting the parts of her that were so terribly wrong. “If you were to do something for me, I can guarantee your sisters will make it through alive and well.” She leaned closer, and I could smell her perfume, floral and coy. “I will keep them safe.”