Page 67 of Liar

“Run!” Malcolm shouts.

There’s sacrifice, and there’s self-preservation. Refusing to leave Malcolm’s side would only put both of us in danger. The two compete in my mind for a single nanosecond before I’m sprinting for the door.

“Dash!” I scream.

“He’s otherwise indisposed.” Damion chuckles behind me.

I throw open the drawing room door and rush through.

“Go ahead and try to run, girl,” Damion calls. His laughter echoes into the hall, invading the spaces between my harsh breaths.

I try for the front door first—of course I fucking do. No amount of pushing and shoving opens it. A muffled voice comes from the outside, halting my frantic twists of the doorknobs.

“You’re barricaded in. A Virtue stands at every possible exit, Cum Bucket.”

“Aurora! Don’t do this!” I cry, pounding against the wood.

“It’s already done. Welcome to your next challenge. I doubt you’ll survive this one.”

Cursing Aurora, I push off the door and run for the atrium. It’s all glass. I can break one of the panels with a garden chair.

My shoes skid on the floors as I lurch around the staircase and haul ass to Malcolm’s sanctuary. As I sprint, I’m hoping it’ll become mine, too.

I slide to a halt at the atrium’s entrance. Spotlights beam onto the rosebushes, their leaves a garish green in the artificial light. Worse, the outside’s halogen lights are turned on, too, illuminating a row of gold and black cloaks on all three sides of the windowed atrium.

My heart hammers. The tips of my fingers pulse. My throat closes up.

One particular asshole raises his hand and waves through the frosty glass.

“Shit,” I croak and do an about-face back into the manor.

I run for the stairs, banging into one of Malcolm’s life-size knights and sending the armor clattering across the ground.

Shitshitshit.

If there are Society members outside, there must be some on the inside, too. Damion can’t be the only one.

My arm stings from where it smacked into the pointy end of the Medieval knight’s spear. I clamp a hand around it as I pick up my steps. And—

—it hits me. Why all the lights are on.

Damion’s ensured I have no place to hide.

Chapter 23

Ember

The secret passageways.

Those cobwebbed, crumbled remains of a nineteenth-century underground society’s creepy invention drive me to the top of the stairs, panting.

I know there’s one close by. Thorne used it to get into my bedroom the other night. And if I can’t find that one, I’ll use what Zeke and I crawled through to get to Thorne’s Halloween party.

It’s easier to focus on my options rather than what Malcolm is going through downstairs.

Don’t make his sacrifice be in vain.

With hardened resolve, I push off the banister and head deeper into the second-floor hallways.