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“No,” Diamond interjects despite focusing on the road. He keeps his speed slow and steady so as not to attract the attention of law enforcement. If we get pulled over, that’s it. We’ll have to kill the cops, and then where would we be? “Look at her scars.”
Frowning, I look down at her. Her clothing is ripped, but it mostly covers her. I don’t focus on that now. Instead, I look at her skin where fresh and old blood coats it. Beneath the rusty color, I see raised marks that would normally be hidden by current fashions. When I find one, I find more, one after the other, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. Some of them are clearly cuts, the lines straight and even. Some of them are large burns that someone could mistake for touching a hot pan if not for the sheer number of them. There are small, puckered, circle scars clearly caused by the end of a lit cigarette and smaller ones that look like she was stabbed with a pen.
“Holy shit,” I murmur, realizing just how many there are, all of them layered on top of each other until she’s a patchwork of scars.
Diamond nods. “She’s survived worse. I wouldn’t doubt her.”
Club sighs. “She may be finished mentally. What if she checks out?”
“Only time will tell,” Diamond answers, his eyes on the road. “We’ll stand with her until her choice is made.”
We all become quiet then, each of us remembering our own choice and the moment we sold our soul to Cirque Obscurum. It was the moment we claimed our freedom and admitted we were monsters.
Chapter
Eight
I’m so exhausted I can’t even lift my head. I come to every now and then, escaping the darkness that waits to claim me, my eyes opening only to find scenes that don’t make sense. The first time, I stare up at a masked face with a spade etched into the plastic. He looks down at me where I’m cradled in his arms. The seat beneath us jostles like we’re in a car, and pain shoots through me, knocking me out again. The next time I wake up, it’s to flashing bright lights and loud circus music. I get maybe three seconds to take things in before my body gives into the darkness again. I don’t know where they’ve taken me, but I can hardly fight them. They saved me. They freed me. At this point, I trust them more than I trust myself.
The air around me is warm and thick with the scent of incense when I wake for the final time. I’m still weak, my body refusing to listen to my commands, but I’m coherent enough to realize I’m lying in a bed and that there’s the unmistakable canvas of a tent above me rather than the plain ceiling in my bedroom. I shift, trying to raise my body, but before I can, a woman appears at my bedside, filling my vision as I nearly collapse from shock.
“You,” I whisper, staring at her familiar face.
“Me,” she replies with a smile as she starts to fuss around me. “Welcome home, little one.”
She’s older now, her face wrinkled and showing her age, but it’s her. I know it is. She’s the one I saw all those years ago, who seems to haunt my dreams even now. Her eyes are still the same milky white, but she sees everything as she watches me with a knowing look.
“I don’t understand,” I say, my voice still hoarse from everything I went through tonight—yesterday? I don’t know how much time has passed.
She nods in understanding. “You will, but I won’t be the one to explain it to you. The boys will be in soon, and they will tell you everything you need to know. In the meantime, how do you feel?”
I take stock of my body, realizing that my wounds are bandaged tightly. My leg is in a cast and propped up on pillows, and I’m clean, no longer covered in blood or wearing my ripped clothing. Instead, I’m in some sort of long slip.
“Like I was stomped on by an elephant,” I answer, wincing with my honesty. “Who patched me up?”
“That would be Dr. Louie. He used to be a war medic,” she says as she starts to straighten the blankets, making sure I’m covered. “Don’t worry though. I cleaned and dressed you. I burned your clothing. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shake my head and immediately wince when it makes my skull ache. “Of course not. Will the doctor be in soon so I can thank him?”
“I’m sure he’ll be by,” she hedges. “But you should rest now. You don’t have nearly enough healing sleep under your belt.”
Frowning, I settle down in bed. “How long have I been out?”
“Four days,” she replies.
I flinch. “Four days?” I repeat. “It’s been four days since . . .”
I’d been about to say since I escaped or Roger met his match, but I clamp my lips shut. I don’t know how much I should say here.
The woman laughs. “There are no secrets here, little one. We all know about the monster who did this to you.” Her expression darkens. “We also know you could not kill him despite it.” She tilts her head. “It’s best if you embrace the darkness here, Ember. Any light you seek will only be found within yourself.”
“What about?—”
“Enough questions,” she chastises. “Sleep, rest, and heal. You will find out more later.”
As if she willed it so, my eyes slide shut, and I sleep once more.
When I open my eyes next, the old fortune teller is gone and in her place is a man. As my vision clears, I get a good look at him, and I shrink deeper into my pillows, afraid and also not, which is an odd feeling. My instant fear is due to the sheer size of him, not because he feels menacing. When I groggily look up at him, the corner of his pouty lips curls up.
