“You don’t recognize the family resemblance?” Cutter grins. “This is Genevieve. Or what’s left of her.”
Bile rises in my throat as I recall the memory of him ripping out her heart and taking it with him. He’s had it all this time? And somehow kept it alive?
He leans forward. “Now, give me your power, Celeste. Or I’ll hurt the ones you love most. And I’ll start with him.”
He turns to Logan and beckons him forward.
The doctor closes the distance, steps wooden but unflinching.
Cutter stands and, in a blur of movement, positions himself at Logan’s back, an arm snaked around the doctor’s chest to hold him still. Cutter’s fangs elongate and he leans in, positioning himself just above the doctor’s throat.
“I can’t,” I say, desperate now. “I don’t know how to call my power up. You saw what happened with the wolves.”
“The wolves let you think you were safe,” he says, eyes flashing with rage. “I know how you helped the brothers. Healing them when their beasts were too tortured to recede.”
I blink at him, horrified anew to realize the implication of his words.
“You’ve been watching us,” I say. “This whole time. In our cells. In our rooms.” My cheeks heat, flaming with embarrassment of everything he must have seen.
“Nothing happens here that I don’t allow,” he says, and it’s an explanation and a warning, all in one.
I look at Logan, who is still docile and unaware as Cutter’s fangs hover over his throat.
“Do as I ask, Celeste, or I’ll rip his head clean off his shoulders.” As if to prove his words, he leans in and scrapes his teeth over Logan’s flesh. Thin red lines appear, and I strain against the straps holding me.
“Okay, stop,” I say quickly. “I’ll do it. Just... give me a minute.”
Cutter doesn’t release the doctor, but he doesn’t carry out his threat either. From the other side of the room, I hear Schmidt muttering about “necessary motivation.”
Silently, I vow, if I ever get free of these monsters, she and Cutter will be the first ones I kill.
“Now, Celeste,” Cutter prompts and I blow out a shaky breath, desperate to give him what he wants. Not that I think it’ll stop him from killing us all, but I need time.
And a plan.
Where are the voices when I need them? Where is Estelle’s ghost?
I close my eyes and take a breath, trying to access the magic I've felt before. If I could do it then, I should be able to do it now.
After a moment, I feel the pull, the igniting of something raw and primal within, but as I coax it to the surface, it seems to disappear, sucked out of me without effect.
I open my eyes and see Cutter smiling.
When I look down at the tube running from my arm, the blood sucked from me is glowing a soft silver. From the gurney, Dean moans as tubes run red with his blood.
Declan and Estelle remain still and silent, but the pads attached to their bare chests buzz with electricity. Dean arches his back, obviously in pain even in his sleeping state. As he tenses, parts of his body shift to wolf form; a grotesque combination of human forearm attached to furry paw.
"You're doing wonderfully," Cutter says, turning back to me with gleaming eyes. “Keep going. What else can you summon from your depths?”
Merdre. Merdre. Merdre.
If I don’t use my magic, he’ll kill the doctor.
If I do use my magic, we're all screwed.
Go deep, go deeper, go too far…
The voices return anew, pushing me towards something I don't understand. But I follow their command, though I fear if I do what they urge, it might kill Dean, Declan, and my twin.
I close my eyes again and imagine myself on the edge of a cliff, the waters below me deep and dark—my subconscious. Within the water, silver shafts of light swim like eels—my power.
Taking the plunge, I dive in, allowing myself to become fully immersed in my own being for the first time since I got here.
The water is warm, inexplicably so, and inviting. It fills me, moves through me, and as I push deeper, I begin to understand.
I begin to see.
And I begin to hear.
"Dean!" I push my thoughts out, trying to connect to him.
"Celeste! You need to get out of here. He'll hurt you." Dean's voice sounds tired, broken.