Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(117)

Astrid’s smile fades, and she yells into the forest, “You should come out now, Sage. Or I’ll make you watch me do more than cut him. Olly, olly, oxen free!”

Lailoken lets go of my arm, whispering, “Go play, Lily.”





FORTY-NINE

SAGE

“There she is.” Astrid smiles as I move away from the rock. “I thought I smelled you, newblood. How did you like the show?”

“A bit melodramatic,” I say, hoping my voice isn’t shaking.

“Sage,” Faelan says, sounding helpless. He shakes his head. “Just run.”

“Oh, she can’t leave her crush,” Astrid says. “She’d ruin the story.”

I give her a plastic grin. “I’m so going to hurt you, bitch,” I say. “Lots of pain.” And I mean every word. I’ve never in my life wanted to strangle someone so badly. I think this is what it feels like to be willing to kill. I’d be very okay with her not making it out of here alive.

“Aren’t you precious,” she scoffs. But her lip twitches like she’s bluffing. “It’s so good of you to join us.”

“Get your ass off him,” I say. “Now.”

“Are you going to smite me, fire whore?” Her eyes fall to my chest.

“No torque,” I say. “You picked the wrong day to mess with me, bitch.”

But she laughs, like she’s got the upper hand. And then she places her palm on the ground.

“Run, Sage!” Faelan shouts.

A thick vine bursts out of the ground near my foot, scraping up my leg, curling around my hips, my waist, cutting into my sides in seconds. I try to jerk away, to pull free, but the vine holds, cuts into my skin. The growth branches off, capturing my wrists. And I’m stuck.

“Oops,” Astrid says, laughing again. She slides off Faelan’s lap and stands, then walks over to me.

My energy stirs in my chest, heating, but I hesitate. I’m not sure I know how to focus it yet. And she’s still too close to Faelan. I could kill him right along with her. If I can just burn away the vine—

A metal shackle clicks around my neck, latching from behind me. My energy presses at my skin, trapped. And Ben comes up beside me, giving me a shrug.

Astrid’s smile stiffens. “Double oops.” She’s a foot taller than I am, athletic, her striking features heightened by the glow of her white-blond hair.

I want to rip her perfect face off.

“I know you’re fond of your protector,” she says, her voice dripping with pity. “Such a shame. You realize that it’s never going to happen with him, right?” She looks me over, then glances at Faelan. “She’s barely a woman, my love. You weren’t seriously entertaining her childish infatuation, were you?”

She steps closer, holding up her hand and moving it around me like she’s feeling the air. She breathes out a derisive laugh. “The girl’s a virgin. How much will you wager you were her first kiss, lover?”

“Enough with the messing around, Astrid,” Ben says, sounding annoyed. “Let’s just get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

“We still need the wizard,” she says.

“You already stabbed the crazy bastard. And we were running in circles looking for him for more than an hour before these idiots showed up.”

Stabbed? Lailoken didn’t look stabbed.

“His scent isn’t right,” Astrid says. “He’s probably masking it.” But she’s still looking me over, like she’s searching for a weakness.

“We don’t need him,” Ben says, “we’ve got the girl.”

“The monk has to die,” she snaps. “Princess Mara was very clear on that.”

“Why?” he asks, sounding done with it all. She shouldn’t have picked a twentysomething frat-boy shade for a sidekick.

“Just get the ivory bowl out of the pack,” she says, ignoring him. “Stop being such a child.”

Ben grumbles, then walks past me and starts digging in a bag by his foot.

I twist my wrists, trying to see how tight the vines are. There’s a little give, but not much.

Ben pulls a bone-white bowl out of the bag and walks it over to Astrid. “Can’t we just do this when we get back?”

She snatches the bowl from him. “I’m not traveling with him linked to her, dumbass.”

My mind races, trying to figure out what she means.

She steps over to Faelan and squats down, holding the bowl against his chest. She turns to look at me with stony eyes. “You better hope he fed before he came running for you. This takes a lot of blood.” She lifts the blade of her knife to his neck. “And he’s not like you, Daughter of Fire. He’s been cast off from his power source. So if this boy loses too much, he can die.”

Real panic hits me then, and I jerk against the vines holding me captive. “No! Don’t you dare!”

Her lips twist in a horrible smile.

She swipes with a quick flick of her wrist, like she’s finishing off an animal.

Faelan’s mouth opens, his throat moves, and his eyes widen. But he’s silent. His blood flows into the bowl, soon spilling over the edge.

My heartbeat thunders inside me. Fury beginning a storm.