RoseBlood(90)

His lips hover inches from mine—a torturous tease of sparking currents just out of reach—but he jerks away at the last minute. My eyes pop open, vision clouded and unfocused. In the distance, at the other end of the roof behind the auditorium’s cupola, rises a cacophony of sound.

Someone or something has been watching us. My mind is too fuzzy to react, my body too swept away by sensation and awe to move. I’m a trapped rabbit, helpless against the wolf closing in.





20



UNEARTHLY ENTANGLEMENTS


“It is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to pursuit.”

Antoine de Rivarol

Thorn stood—nerves abuzz—rocking from his soul-deep reunion with Rune after all these years of being apart. So close to tasting his name on her lips. But even with the frustration of that loss, he couldn’t deny how potent the surge had been between them. He’d never felt such a pure electric thrill. His body stung from the inside out—alert, alive, ignited.

He helped her up and motioned toward the door. She wavered in place, absently rubbing the ribbon’s burn imprinted on her arm, unable to budge. She was dewy-eyed enchantment shrouded within her white aura of innocence and wonder—lost and confused. He’d given her too much too fast. He should’ve stopped with the information about the violin; her mind hadn’t been ready for the unity ritual this soon. But Erik had forced his hand.

Thorn kept his sights on the green-lit cupola in the distance, his body planted firmly in front of Rune, waiting either for the spy to reveal himself, or for Rune to recover enough to get back inside, where he could keep her safe for at least one more day.

He’d explored the roof when he arrived but failed to check the cupola’s secret passage. By then, he could think only of making everything perfect, of winning back Rune’s trust and feeling her in his arms without time or space between them, of her breath catching on his face—both of them bared of masks and lies.

Most of the lies.

He hadn’t outed Erik’s plan yet. He couldn’t, not until he’d confirmed or negated what he’d come to suspect after that cryptic discussion with Erik in the lab a few hours earlier.

Thorn had always believed the universe lined up every event that brought Rune into his path. But now, it was starting to appear that the universe had help. That Erik had been using Thorn’s connection to Rune from the very beginning to summon her to this place, in this time.

You have served me well over the years. His father’s melodious taunt writhed and pricked inside Thorn’s brain, an earworm with a serpent’s bite. You’ve brought her this far when no one else could have.

Was that why he gave Thorn the violin to begin with, all those years ago? When he told him to play it every chance he could? Because Erik knew it had been tied to her father somehow? Some kind of magical tether?

Thorn would never forgive himself if it were true, especially now, if his role had put Rune in even more danger. It was one thing, if she wanted to escape her voice like Erik had always said she would. But Thorn had come to realize she needed the chance to embrace the gift, free of pain, before making that decision. He of all people understood what it was like to have such a talent stripped away.

None of it mattered, though, if the spy behind the cupola was the Phantom. Everything would be over tonight.

Already things were spinning out of control. Law enforcement was out of the question. Erik had trip wires and land mines set in place on the upper floors, and would trigger them all without hesitation should he sense someone closing in. Everyone in the academy was a sitting duck unless Thorn could sabotage the pitfalls himself, covertly. He was the only one who could, since he had helped Erik plant most of them, two years earlier.

He’d already disarmed the ones he knew of over the past few weeks, but there would be some Erick had set up in secret. Thorn had searched all the floors except the top two. He needed at least another day. One more day of committing treason against the man who’d raised and nurtured him.

Thorn’s chest ached. “Show yourself!” He shouted to their stalker, straining his voice.

A rush of rustles and growls stirred behind the cupola, but nothing came into view. He would’ve suspected Tomlin, had he not already checked in on Erik’s puppet before coming to the roof tonight. The drummer still hadn’t returned from the city.

That left only the Phantom. But how? When Thorn last saw him, he was barely able to stand. It usually took him all night to recuperate from pouring his energy into the cryogenic chamber.

Thorn’s feet shifted as Rune’s body slumped against him. He wrapped an arm around her. “Come on. Snap out of it. Rune—”

Snarling hisses and tingling bells preempted a flurry of movement from the shadows. A sprinkle of red feathers tufted on the wind in the wake. Thorn almost laughed, so relieved to see the swan and the cat. Both animals had the habit of behaving like dignified emissaries in the presence of the Phantom. They’d never lower themselves to this level of playfulness were he here.

But there was still the chance he might be close behind.

Scooting everything to one end of the bench, Thorn eased Rune down and lifted her legs so she could lie on her side. He patted her face until she roused.

“W-wha’s happening?” She slurred, her eyes wide as Ange fluttered past, squawking, with Diable happily prancing in jingly pursuit. “Wait . . . Diable, no!” She rolled off the bench, diving to grab Diable but missing when the cat ducked and slapped a paw across the swan’s tail feathers.