Page 22 of Liar

Not this time, little pretty.

I step farther into the shadows. She’s on her own, though every fiber in me screams to take up weapons and do the dirty work for her.

Father chuckles. “Malcolm couldn’t go through with it. But this time, I believe his daughter can.”

Zeke screams beneath his bondage. His eyes latch onto Ember’s, shining with tears, pleading.

“You can’t make me.” Ember shakes her head, crossing her arms. Her jaw works, chewing on a winning argument. “Zeke’s famous. How will you explain any marks on him? Or worse? We’d be arrested for assault. It’d be all over the news, and your Societies would be uncovered—”

Zeke releases a muffled wail.

Ember’s head snaps to Sav, holding a small scalpel in her shaking hand. It drips blood.

I find the wound in seconds, on Zeke’s thigh, his slacks torn open with the efficacy of a surgeon.

“It seems our lost princess has the right idea.” Father folds his hands, his Noble pinky ring shining. “Start where it won’t show.”

“Savannah…” Ember says hoarsely. “Why?”

Sav doesn’t react to Ember’s shock. Her eyes bore into Zeke, the bones of her face seeming to protrude through her skin. Her knuckles grind white against the blade, and when she bears her teeth, they’re just as pearlescent.

“You forget, Ember Weatherby, what our sweet Savannah has endured,” Father continues. “For so long, she wasn’t able to fight back. She was trapped, used, stored away until her kidnappers wanted to see her again. And see her they did.”

Sav’s breathing grows more erratic. Ever so subtly, the hem of her dress ripples. Her heels are lifting from the floor.

Ember opens her mouth to argue, or to soothe Sav, as she’s always wont to do, but Father cuts in, “Those kidnappers are still at large. Unaccounted for. Free. This is a way for Savannah to channel her rage. Isn’t it, sweet girl? Show us what was done to you. Make our members see the way you suffered and how strong you’ve become. You are a survivor. Your blood is royal. You are a phoenix rising from the ashes. Show us.”

A guttural cry leaves Sav’s throat before she lurches forward, slashing the scalpel across Zeke’s chest.

A red ribbon forms between his pecs, rivulets running through the lines of muscle on his chest.

“Savannah, stop!” Ember throws herself between Sav and Zeke. “Please. If you and I both refuse, they can’t make us do this.”

Sav doesn’t see her anymore. She’s wild, vengeful, and free to take out her anger on the closest bystander. Including Ember.

“Too late,” Father croons. “Savannah’s begun the challenge. If you don’t match her, you will become a pariah to the Societies, much like your father. An outsider who is no longer welcome. All privileges, including your tenure at Winthorpe, will be revoked. Is it worth it to you? To save this vain, self-worshipping boy’s life?” Father angles his head. “What would he do in your position? Would he lower his arms rather than mutilate you? Or would he do what was needed in order to survive?”

“You’re insane. A maniac!” Ember’s voice is barely recognizable. It cracks and growls, hovering near the breaking point of sheer panic.

“And you’re wasting time,” Father says as Sav slashes her way closer to Zeke.

Ember screams when Sav’s blade nicks her arm before she makes another go at Zeke. This time at his inner wrist, very close to the suicide vein.

Come on, little pretty, you know what to do.

She’s quaking, my Ember, holding her bicep where Sav so easily swiped at her. Her white-blond hair hangs down her back in tangles, her slip of a dress revealing the pink of her nipples as she heaves.

Sav tosses the scalpel aside, grimacing with feral lips as she bends down and selects another tool.

She chooses the screwdriver.

Come on, Ember!

I step into the fire-lit room. As I suspected, the movement catches her eye. Ember sucks in a breath as she sees me, her perfect lips forming an O of longing.

I don’t speak—can’t—for any act of heroism will be seen as sabotage by my father. I can only stare, deeply and darkly, into her eyes, communicating through silence that she be as brutal as me, as quick-thinking, as efficient.

You know what to do. How to end this.