“She’s my affair now,” he grinds out, fangs flashing. “She always will be.”
“I’m not used to you caring about others,” Atlas says. “It doesn’t look good on you.”
Do it, Lenore, Solon’s words appear in my head again. Free yourself.
I can’t.
You can. I know you can. You caused a fucking earthquake in this fair city.
I blink at him, his eyes meeting mine for a moment, giving me strength. You knew about that?
His lips twitch in a fleeting smile before he looks back to Atlas, gaze hardening. It had your markings all over it, moonshine. The air filled with the scent of your blood. Do you know what your blood smells like to me? Bergamot, cardamom, frozen snow. The charged air before a lightning storm. Sweet, beautiful, powerful things.
Atlas lets out a sound of impatience, adjusting his grip on the blade. His hand is shaking more now, and I can definitely smell his adrenaline.
“If the two of you could stop having private conversations in your heads, that would be great,” Atlas sneers.
“Jealous?” Solon asks.
Atlas tenses, about to fire back some retort, when suddenly I hear the front door open, the smell of baby powder filling my nose.
My heart cries out.
No!
It all happens in slow motion.
Atlas panics, takes the blade off of me and automatically whips it toward the door. It goes flying through the air in a straight line, hitting the target straight in the chest.
Elle.
Elle just walked in my apartment.
Atlas stabbed Elle right in the heart.
He lets go of me, realizing what he’s done, and I fall to my knees, drained of everything but filling up with horror.
Elle stares at us with large eyes, trying to understand, then looks down at the knife lodged in her heart, no longer glowing blue, now disintegrating into thin air.
Then she falls to the floor, dead.
I scream, my voice ripping out of me, the binds broken, and Atlas runs to the door, stepping over Elle’s body and disappearing outside.
There’s just a flash of Absolon as he moves at warp speed, leaving me alone on my knees, trying to crawl toward my dead friend, a pool of blood spilling out around her like red satin sheets.
Seconds later Solon is back, crouched down by Elle, his fingers at her throat, trying to feel for a pulse. “He disappeared, I couldn’t trace him.” He swallows hard, leans in to smell her. “She’s barely alive.”
“We have to call an ambulance,” I cry, crawling to her, grabbing a hold of her hand. “We have to save her, we can save her.”
“No,” Solon says quietly. “We can’t.”
“We can!” I scream at him, tears spilling down my face. “She’s still alive, you said she’s still alive!” I put my hand at her face. “Elle, Elle wake up. It’s Lenore. Elle, please. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” I glance up at Solon who is watching me with a pained expression. “Why aren’t you doing anything?” I cry out. “Get out your phone, call for help!”
He shakes his head, his jaw tight. “She won’t make it. She’s lost too much blood.”
“Blood,” I repeat, my hands sinking into the red stain around her. “We can save her still. I can save her.”
“No, Lenore,” he says adamantly. “You can’t. I told you why.”