Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,129

he was constantly haunted by the memories of the Towers. James needed somewhere safe to live. He didn’t need to spend every second of his life looking over his shoulder and flinching at every sound. The others seemed stronger, more pulled together, but every once in a while I’d catch a ghost float through their eyes, find a crack in their armor. No child should have to live in hiding like this.

“How did you even find me?” I demanded, dropping my hands to the slightly sticky surface of the table as I tried to turn my mind away from their future and focus more on the present.

Étienne’s lips pressed into a hard, thin line and the muscles in his jaw flexed. The kid was taller than me, but he was too thin, his T-shirt hanging on him so that he looked like a scarecrow. His handsome face was smudged with dirt and his blond hair was becoming long and shaggy, and yet he managed an almost regal bearing. I didn’t know if it was a defense mechanism or if it was a French thing. I didn’t take it personally. He took the safety of his companions very seriously and he didn’t trust me.

Tony laughed from where he stood next to Étienne. “We’d been keeping an eye on your place for the past couple of weeks, trying to figure out a way to approach you. We saw the fight. Paola was afraid they’d take you, and we wouldn’t be able to follow. James came up with the idea to hit you with a spitball, seeing as he’d be able to track his spit with a spell.” He laughed again and nudged Étienne with his elbow. The older boy tried to maintain his frown, but was struggling. There was something infectious about Tony’s laughter.

“Disgusting,” Alice muttered from across the room with her crisp British accent. She and her brother were from the United Kingdom, while Paola was from Italy. Tony sounded as if he was from somewhere in the South like Alabama or Mississippi, which added to his charm.

A part of me wanted to laugh with Tony because the trick was quite simple and ingenious. With all the chaos going on, I doubted anyone would have noticed a spitball hitting me. But I was equally sickened by the thought that these kids had witnessed the brutality and ugliness of that fight. I was going to have nightmares for years, and I was supposed to be the fucking adult in the room.

“I appreciate you trying to rescue me, but why?” I flopped back in the folding chair and stared at Étienne. I knew the ultimate decision had come from him. He had put these kids in danger coming after me, knowing that I was being held by members of the Towers. “You know the Towers are going to be watching me and harassing me. We can’t be seen together. We can’t help each other. It’s too dangerous.”

“We will not be bullied by the Ivory Towers.” Étienne’s low voice was strong as his French accent curled around each word. He narrowed his bright blue eyes on me and leaned forward. “We have been beaten, starved, tortured, and frightened from the moment we were stolen from our homes. We escaped because we will not be treated like that. We know we cannot go home to our families, but we will not let them kill another like us. Another who has stood up against them and said no.”

I frowned, taking in his quiet fervor. Something had bothered me from the moment I saw him with the others. Listening to him, I finally knew what it was. He reminded me of myself, but worse. I left the Towers because I hated what they were and I tried to secretly protect others from the witches and the warlocks when I could. The big difference, though, was that when I was his age, I only had myself to look out for. Étienne had four kids depending on him to make good decisions. That was going to wear him down fast.

“I understand,” I said with a nod. Étienne sat back, looking confused and skeptical, so I pressed on. “I do understand and that’s why you were going to talk to me. You knew that if anyone could understand what you’re going through, I could. I’ve been in this spot before, ten years ago. I know what you’re risking and why you’re doing it. Because of that, you have to believe