RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,166

thing about Krav Maga? The system was designed to train the Israeli Defense Forces how to disarm an attacker with a weapon. Specifically, a gun, or a knife. I could take Fitzpatrick’s bowie knife from him in three short moves, but I’m biding my time. He’s so sure that he has complete control over the situation that he’s talking, spilling all his secrets like a villain in a goddamn Bond movie, and I want to learn as much as I can before I break his wrist and run.

Carina walks ahead of me, her hands tied behind her back. I’m restrained, too—the thin twine the English teacher used to bind us bites, cutting into my skin—though I’m not particularly worried about that just yet. I’m more concerned about where he’s taking us. “Let’s pick up the pace, ladies. We’ll be here ‘til dawn otherwise.”

He sounds chipper. He hasn’t forgotten what I told him earlier, though. He doesn’t believe that Wren confessed his love to me, and now he’s trying to convince me that I’m wrong. “He was lying to you, y’know. He took your file from Dean Harcourt’s office. Stole your picture. He was planning on toying with you. Did you know that?”

“Yes, I knew that. He told me everything. I know all about his little obsession when we first met. Things changed, though. It became real. For both of us.” Maybe I should sound a little less bored. A fraction more scared? Don’t get me wrong; I’m absolutely shitting myself, but I’m also confident that I’ll be able to wrestle over control of the situation when the time comes. And I want to push the doc’s buttons a little. Nudge him over the other side of angry just far enough that he gets sloppy. Carina looks back at me, giving me a stern look that speaks volumes. What the fuck are you doing, girl? Don’t antagonize him. You’re gonna get us both killed!

“Eyes front, Carrie. Good girl. Wouldn’t want you tripping and breaking your neck, would we?” Fitz commands.

“He told me that I was the first person he’s ever loved. What we have is special,” I say in an airy tone. “I never thought a guy like Wren would go for a girl like me. But the way he looks at me sometimes…” I sigh dreamily. “We’re gonna live together when we go away to college. It’s gonna be amazing. We’ll—”

I go down hard. With my hands tied behind my back, I have no way of breaking the fall. The impact sends pain jangling through me from head to toe. Well, shit. Facedown in the dirt, I vaguely wonder if I’ve pushed a little too hard. Doctor Fitzpatrick looms over me, snarling in my ear. “Keep your slut mouth closed, Elodie. Unless you wanna wind up bleeding out in this dirt, right here and now.”

49

WREN

The moment I turn the first corner, I see a light up ahead. My hope soars. Maybe she didn’t hear me call out for some reason. Could be that Elodie’s just up ahead, killing time before she goes back to Wolf Hall. I stumble, tripping over unseen rocks that litter the narrow path, barely catching myself against the rough, sharp walls as I hurry onward.

“Elodie?” I should have fucking told her everything when I had the chance. It was so stupid of me to keep this from her. She needed to know the truth, so she could be prepared for what she was getting herself into. I was a coward, though. I was weak. It took so long to earn her trust. I was so convinced that we could make it to graduation without Fitz finding out about us. What a fool I was. “ELODIE!” The shout carries even further this time, bouncing around the inside of the cave.

Before I can suck down another breath and call for her again, I come out into an open, high-ceilinged cavern. The light I saw just now comes from a series of electric lamps, strung up along one side of the wall. Water runs down the roughhewn rock, gathering in filthy puddles on the ground. And there, right in the middle of the cavern, is a stone plinth, rising up out of the dirt.

Not a plinth.

An altar.

That’s what it seems to be, at least. I approach, my heart a clenched fist in my throat, and…Oh my god. A high-pitched buzzing sound floods my head. It’s Mara. She’s laid out on top of the altar, hands resting on top of