Semua Bab Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance: Bab 91 - Bab 100

ELEANOR SINCLAIR"She'll be all right."I turn in the direction of Marcus's voice beside me."I know," I say. "And yet I cannot help but feel that I permitted my sister to be welcomed by that beast of a man. He is not a man to be trusted, you see."We are at the end of an abandoned bridge, stationary as the worn planks creak beneath my feet and I gaze out into the darkness. The small river beneath us is restless in a mood I reckon is identical to my own heart, the relentless waves-if they can be called waves-pounding against the pilings in that rhythm. The air is saturated with the smell of wet sand, and my nose, a sensitive organ, can also pick up the faint scent of diesel from the fishing trawlers about to start on their nightly journey. Vieuti is not much different from when I left as I see it-the same tilted streetlights casting their faint glow, same murmurs of gossip blowing off the narrow alleys between women, and the same overwhelming feeling of being watched by eyes I cannot

ELEANOR SINCLAIR And once again, we are on the run.As I sit in the bus as it drives away, taking us to the destination where we intend to gather all we need to launch one single strike against Vincent, I can only think of how much I miss the comforts of my home. Some hot bath. A nice, tasty meal. Some proper dessert. The comfort of my bed.When the bus finally pulls to a stop, and in the early hours of the morning after a thirty-minute drive, we are forced to opt for a hotel, a cheap one with a room that smells of stale, long forgotten cigarettes and some cheap lavender cleaner that arouses a certain familiarity in my head. The peeling wallpaper on the walls and flickering, unsteady, fluorescent light hanging above us do little to ease the tension coiled in my chest, as we are a long way over from Vieuti and holed up in a rundown motel that takes cash straight and asks no questions. It's easy to know the kind of people who will patronize this place-people like Vincent Moreau.The n

ELEANOR SINCLAIR The dull crunch of the front door closing echoed in the fishery.It was also a sound that had nailed Helen-Nora's fate, for now. My own hands, steady in spite of the tension in my chest, fiddled with the lens on the camera, simply a question of adjusting the focus on the expected meeting place. Marcus sat a few feet away, a bent form over a tangle of wires, his breathing a gentle rasp in the earpiece as he monitored the body cam feed.And then, from the earpiece, Vincent's voice came through, smooth as sharpened stone, but with a latticework of deadly possessiveness beneath."Helen-Nora, my dear. Right on time. You look. suitably subdued. Just the way I like my little birds."I clenched my jaw, a chill of revulsion crawling down my back. He was performing his act, weaving his toxic glamour. Helen-Nora's voice, a high wire, answered, "Vincent. We have to talk about the papers. The lease.""Oh... we both know that was all a façade, sweetheart," Vincent leaned in, his v

ELEANOR SINCLAIR Vincent's eyes roamed with a cold pleasure that was almost predatory, with them resting on Marcus for an instant before refocusing on mine. "Now, let us talk of our lovely Helen-Nora over here," he said, his tone lowering to a whispered confederation, though one would guess the whole room could hear him. He waved his free hand toward my sister, a careless flick of his wrist. "You see, Eleanor, you think you are smart, but you are not as you think. You should know there are... certain bonds that exist... bonds far greater than loyalty, or money, as you so crudely put it."Helen-Nora's sobs, which had temporarily ceased, now doubled themselves, a keening noise that grated on my already raw nerves. She bent upon her feet, clutching her stomach as if with colossal agony. For an instant, pure fleeting concern cut through my wrath. She was my twin, and even in the face of her betrayal, I still felt a grave, strange affection for her, even though my mind continued to wonde

ELEANOR SINCLAIR It was difficult to think anymore as I was being led away. I could not help thinking... to where. Where was he taking us? The guards were leading us to the door that led outside the fishery when all of a sudden, the metal, rusty door crashed shut before us, which was surprising as we had not crossed it. Instead, the two guards who were leading Marcus and me away stopped dead in their tracks, their hands gripping our arms just as the first cries started erupting out of the space of the fishery we stood in. The air, already heavy with unspoken aggression, now vibrated with raw, gut-level energy. "What are you doing?" a harsh yell pierced the silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of Vincent's men point his weapon at the wrong man, at Vincent, who stood stunned. The guard holding Marcus, a hulking man who moved surprisingly fast, let go of his arm with a brutal shove and backed away. Then, in a blur of movement, he turned around and punched a heavy fis