Название: Midnight
Автор: Christi Whitney J.
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
isbn: 9780008122416
isbn:
My stomach hated me immediately.
Underneath the thick manacle on my wrist, the dandelion tattoo burned. I tried prying my claws underneath the metal, but the spikes lining the inside of the cuff ground deeper into my already raw skin. The shadowen-proof diamond coating had zapped my energy and rendered my limited shadowing abilities useless.
‘Karl,’ I whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’
My stomach twisted, but not from hunger. If I’d listened to the old circus trainer more, if I’d managed to get past my trepidation of what I was, maybe I could’ve done something to save him. I’d failed him, and I’d failed the Corsis.
The Corsis.
I reached for my jeans pocket before remembering I no longer had my phone. Would Hugo realize something had happened if I didn’t answer his texts? Would he even text at all? Our communication had gradually waned the longer I’d been at the Circe, sometimes going a week between calls.
Josephine.
She didn’t have any more control over this situation than I did. Besides, I’d seen the way she’d clung to Quentin after I went completely nuts. I saw the horrified look on her face when they carted me away. Even if she had felt something for me, it meant nothing after tonight.
I leaned my shoulder against the metal bars of the cage. A year ago, I’d been a senior in high school, looking forward to the freedom of graduation. Now, freedom sounded like a foreign word. My head dropped heavily to my chest. I had no idea what kind of Gypsy trial awaited me when I got to Savannah, but I was going to have to face it alone.
*
The next hour slogged along. The cage rocked and jolted as we made various turns. I lay on my stomach, my face pressed into the rotting hay. I rolled my shoulders and cringed. My old set of nylon straps may have been uncomfortable, but they were nothing compared to the thick cords the Marksmen used to bind my wings. Each time I moved, all the muscles along my back cramped.
At last, the trailer rolled to a stop. I rose as the door opened once more. I smelled Quentin’s unpleasant scent, but after that, came the smell of saltwater, moss, and stone. We were parked in an alley of some kind. Streetlamps shone between branches weighted down with Spanish moss.
Quentin ascended the stairs and sauntered around the cage without acknowledging my presence. Then he knelt beside the pile of woodchips and retrieved the beef jerky. He held it between two fingers, as though it were contaminated.
‘Just like he said you would,’ Quentin remarked.
I snarled as another scent reached my nose.
‘Not very wise, Mr Grey.’ Augustine entered the trailer. ‘I know for a fact it’s been at least six hours since your last meal. Very likely even longer than that, since I can only speak in regards to my arrival at the Circe. I assumed you understood your shadowen needs by now.’
I clutched my stomach as a wave of nauseous hunger slammed into me. My legs wobbled, and I found myself on my knees, gritting my teeth, fighting against the thickness in my head. I had to keep my rational thoughts, no matter what.
‘Yeah, I’m hungry. But if you think I’m going to trust anything you give me, you’re delusional.’
‘I’m just trying to help you,’ Augustine replied.
‘I’m fine,’ I growled.
‘Well, then. Suit yourself. We’ve just arrived in Savannah,’ he continued. ‘But before we begin this next part of our journey together, let’s go over a few … expectations I have for you.’
I wrapped my fingers around a cage bar and hoisted myself to my feet. My upper lip twitched uncontrollably. I felt the jagged edges of my teeth; the hideous things could make short work of a rib-eye steak but remained stupidly ridiculous to talk around.
‘Like what?’
Augustine pulled a wooden stool from the corner of the trailer and set it down with a loud bang. The sound stung my ears. ‘Well, I can’t exactly bring you any further in this cage. It’s a bit conspicuous. So I am going to need your cooperation. When they come to escort you to the Court of Shadows, I expect you to go calmly, quietly, and without a fuss.’
I stared back at him.
‘The Court of Shadows is the hub for all Outcast Gypsy activity, not only in Savannah, but for the entire kumpania,’ he explained. ‘Its location is a carefully guarded secret, so we must take precautions.’
‘Since when did you care about keeping secrets?’ I demanded. ‘Or care about anything to do with the Roma.’
‘You misunderstand me,’ Augustine answered, propping his elbows on his knees. ‘Despite my current status among the Outcasts, I continue to have a deep respect for our traditions, and for our very rich and unusual past.’
‘No offense, but that’s not really coming across.’
Augustine chuckled. ‘It’s a shame we won’t be having many more of these conversations, Sebastian.’ He stood and tapped the corner of my cage. ‘I’ve quite enjoyed them.’
As soon as he left the trailer, Quentin approached. I caught sight of a long knife tucked through his belt. The diamonds glinted like deadly sparks – a grim reminder that he knew exactly how to end my gargoyle-y existence.
‘Time to go,’ he said.
‘Don’t guess you’re going to tell me where.’
Quentin whistled sharply. Thomas and Ian, my Marksmen guard dogs since the kris, stomped into the trailer. Ice exploded in my gut, but my blood heated in my veins. Quentin pulled out a key. I stared hard at the lock as it clicked. Instincts skittered up my spine like a colony of ants. Red seeped into my vision, but I ground my teeth even harder, pushing it away.
Augustine was desperate to see the Queen. If I went quietly, maybe I could find out what was going on. I blinked everything into focus as the cage door swung open. Besides, even if I could fight them off, where would I go?
Thomas clamped a short chain to my manacles, pinning my arms in front of me. A long cloak was thrown around my shoulders and the hood was pulled up to obscure my face. The three Marksmen surrounded me, keeping my form hidden as we stepped from the trailer into the night.
The narrow street where we’d parked was deserted. Streetlights cast a yellow sheen on the cobblestone and drew long shadows from between the close-set buildings. I tilted my head and glanced up as we stopped at a three-story brick storefront. A dark-green canopy stretched across the length of the ground floor. Printed on the canvas flap were the words Tea and Spice.
Augustine came alongside me. ‘May I remind you, if you want Josephine to remain safe, you will behave yourself. We have many loyal to us within the Marksmen ranks. It would only take a word from Quentin, and her circus career would be finished. Accidents are unpredictable that way.’
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