“You can’t tell me that Lucien didn’t warn you about this,” Valentine says as he closes the door behind us, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight.
“No.”
I shake my head. I’m sure I would have remembered if any of them had warned me about this. How could I not?
“Open your eyes, Evelyn,” Valentine orders, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I want you to see what happens to those who test me.”
I war with myself as I struggle to obey. Slowly, my eyes open, though I keep them trained on the black carpet.
Valentine reaches up to grab a handful of hair at the top of my head, yanking it back to force me to look up.
“Isn’t she lovely?” he asks, his voice a low, rumbling purr.
My stomach twists, and my skin crawls as I stare at the crystal case in the center of the room. Inside, the preserved body of a naked woman, paler than death itself, floats in some strange liquid.
Her eyes are open, staring into nothingness, her expression pained and full of sorrow despite the fact that her soul has long since left her.
I know this face.
It’s the same woman from the photo in the diary.
It’s Anna.
4
Evelyn
Valentine releases his hold on my hair, and I crumple to the floor as he steps around me to cross the room.
Despite myself, I can’t take my eyes off the woman floating in the crystal case.
I feel utterly sick and heartbroken.
I may not know her full story, but I can certainly say she never deserved to end up like this. Like some kind of twisted trophy for Valentine’s pleasure, just like the heads in his office.
Terror fills me as I try to make sense of how she came to be here.
Did they send her in to take Valentine down, just as they did me?
Or did he take her from them?
Either way, I can’t even begin to understand why they didn’t warn me about this.
I allow my eyes to roam over her body, nausea clinging to the back of my throat as I notice the unnatural angle and bruising of her neck … and worse still, the gentle, rounded protrusion of her lower belly.
There’s no doubt in my mind now that she was murdered, and apparently, while she was pregnant nonetheless.
But with whose baby?
A chill runs down my spine at this thought.
Did the others know she was pregnant before she ended up here? Is the child one of theirs, or did Valentine impregnate her before her untimely death?
I don’t know which is worse.
Fear clutches at my chest, my mouth going dry the more I allow these thoughts to spin through my mind. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about myself, but I can’t help it.
Is this what Valentine plans to do with me?