Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3)

Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3) Read Free Page B

Book: Roses & Rye (Toil & Trouble Book 3) Read Free
Author: Heather R. Blair
Ads: Link
things I have been shown, things I would do anything to forget.
    Everyone is capable of madness. I know that. Everyone . The only difference is what drives us there. I’ve no idea what happens to her, but the future holds a Persephone out of her mind. The results are quite terrifying.
    With a whisper of sound, one of the shadows at the edge of the room detaches itself from the others.
    The Veiled One. The urge to shiver comes and goes as I watch her approach. Diaphanous black drapes her form from head to toe. She may not even be female, but something about the way she moves always convinces me that she is.
    “You saw what she did on that beach.” Her voice also hints at female. A cruel one. She’s been with the Dark Council far fewer years than I, but a more ruthless member I’ve never seen. This one is always utterly confident in every decision she makes. A side effect of being able to see the future. “Have you forgotten that is the least of what she’s capable of?”
    Her vision seeps into my mind. I fight it, but it’s like a poisonous gas, taking over, forcing me to see what I’ve tried so many times to forget.
    Brighton Beach, the same stretch of lakeshore where Seph so recently kissed me. It’s high summer and the wild grass edging the rocky shore is a vibrant green, the park filled with tourists and fitness-minded locals. The lake stretches to the horizon, a vast cloak of shimmering blue, wrapping around the small sample of humanity barbecuing, running, skipping rocks and looking for agates, along with a few brave souls swimming. Above them the sky darkens slowly, boiling to a ghastly orange-black. The waves turn rust colored and angry, spitting high up onto the rocky shore as the smell and taste of iron fills the air. The laughter ringing over the park turns to sobs and screams as the children fall first, little bodies limp and still.
    The parents are next, crumbling en masse to the ground, the eerie shadows caused by the shattered sky making the whole scene look like something out of a postapocalyptic nightmare.
    They rise to their feet moments later, one by one, their eyes a uniform burned-out black. Blank, empty, but I can feel them screaming inside. Dead eyes in living bodies. It’s wrong. The wrongness crawls over my skin and makes my veins want to slither away. Bile burns my throat. What power brings the dead to life?
    I fight not to sink to the floor of the cave, my legs shaky as the vision blows away, the remnants of those screams lingering in my head.
    But what the hell do I care about them ? It’s her that matters to me, not anyone else.
    Isn’t it?
    I’d always thought I didn’t have a heart at all. Turns out it was only waiting for someone to thaw it out. The problem is, once your heart starts working properly, it’s real hard to shut the damn thing off.
    You did this to me, princess. You made me care.
    It may be the death of both of us.
    The Veiled One inclines her head, her voice quiet and cold. “This is the future if Persephone Gosse lives—the only future, Jack Frost. She must be killed. If it’s anyone but you, more lives will be lost than necessary.”
    Cerunnos’s eyes gleam red. He doesn’t give a damn about lives lost, he just wants someone to rule over once his plans are complete. “No more stalling. By the winter solstice, that witch will be dead. Are we agreed?”
    It almost makes me laugh, the hand of fate all too clear in the way his deadline neatly mirrors Oriane’s. But the sound sticks in my throat, as do the words I know I must say. I’ve already sworn to kill her. Repeating the vow shouldn’t be so difficult, but my skin tightens with dread. Like saying it out loud this time will make it real.
    I have to force myself to look up into those blood-colored eyes, telling myself it’s a lie, even as every syllable reverberates in my head and turns to ash in my mouth.
    “Persephone Gosse will be dead by sundown on Yule.”

Christmas Day…
     
    “You did

Similar Books

Crack-Up

Eric Christopherson

The Stolen Ones

Richard Montanari

The Unwilling Bride

Jennifer Greene

The Sheik's Ruby

Jennifer Moore

A Match for Mary Bennet

Eucharista Ward

Keeping in Line

Courtney Brandt