Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,88

of the many people who walk through it and do not come back. The magic of the Door has been dormant for a long time because of the Institute. It needed awakening, a spark of raw Chaos to ignite it. You have awakened it, my Persephone. He sucked in a deep breath, as though the prospect thrilled him. I can feel the Door to Nowhere through you. My Persephone, what a wonder you are.

What? Are you saying that this is all my—

But at that moment, Victoria burst into the room, the door slamming into the wall with a bang as it opened, and the connection dissipated. She crossed to the center of the room and paused there, stiff and straight with purpose. Heavy silence blanketed the bedroom, and I found no hint of softness in her eyes. She stared at me, the silence getting thicker and more suffocating by the moment.

I had nowhere to run to… and the head huntswoman looked truly, madly furious.

This is about to get worse, isn’t it?

Twenty-One

Persie

“I need answers.” Victoria didn’t bother with any niceties. “Now.”

I looked up at her, my mind still fuzzy from the connection to Leviathan. “I’ve told you everything I know, Ms. Jules. What else is there?”

We’d already gone in several circles during this interview-slash-interrogation. And it looked like the record would keep skipping, until I could verify what Leviathan had told me about this weird doorway and show, once and for all, that the pixies had no part in the disappearances. But it wasn’t as if I could just go ahead and tell her that she’d walked in and cut off a mental call from the ancient monster who’d caused all this. That would just add a layer of fault to the trifle of blame already jiggling over my head.

Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “I need to know everything about these pixies. Nathan has done his best, but there’s not enough lore to go on, and the records from the Cornish coven were destroyed in a fire some years ago.” She paced uneasily, reminding me a little of my mom. I sensed it was taking all of her willpower to stay calm.

“I’ve told you everything!” I insisted, fidgeting with the bedsheets.

Victoria shot me a dark look. “I don’t think that’s true, Persie.”

“Then I’m going to need you to be more precise.” I wasn’t deliberately being sassy, but she was more or less asking me to read her mind.

“Did anyone ask you to do this? Did someone speak to you before you came to the Institute? Did someone put the idea of coming here in your head, or did it happen organically?”

I said nothing, thinking… Did she mean Leviathan?

She paused, her brow furrowing. “Can you remember anything else from the evening you Purged? Were you aware you could Purge extinct monsters, prior to coming here?”

I stared at her. “No! Of course not!”

“I think you ought to be more precise,” she replied coolly.

“Nobody put the idea of coming here in my head.” I shuffled nervously at the edge of the bed, trying to figure out where she was going with all this. “As for the evening I Purged—I got sick, same as every other time. There wasn’t anything different, apart from the fact that I expelled a bunch of monsters instead of one. And no, I have no idea what I’m going to Purge before it happens.”

Victoria went to my desk and absently picked up a few items. “But you understand where your ability comes from, don’t you? You were the one who told me about it.”

So she did think Leviathan had a part in this. Being vague about it didn’t minimize the accusation, that, somehow, the monster had prodded me into this Institute and made me release an army of pixies. But for what purpose? Did she think he wanted to punish the hunters because of the nature of their job? Was I supposed to be the conduit in this scenario?

“Leviathan doesn’t have any say in what I do, if that’s what you’re getting at.” I stood, anger rocketing through me. “He gave me this ability, sure, but that’s where it ends. I’m not his spy or his puppet. He’s frozen in a glass box on the other side of the Atlantic.”

Which doesn’t stop him from whispering in my head, but still… He didn’t control me. He’d tried that in a dreamworld, and it hadn’t worked. My subconscious might have slipped momentarily, but his influence over me was nowhere near as