Page 21 of The Cannibal

“Why would we want to be anywhere near the other Nests?” I hissed. “I thought the point was to break away from these classist hierarchies.”

She leaned close, her sharp eyes leveling with mine. “Because if we can’t pull this off, and we cannot make a case for ourselves, we will all be killed. We are asking for protection as part of the Nest so that my father can’t demand that we all be executed for sport.”

“Why hasn’t he already?”

“Because Silas and Luka have already made the case. The representatives, from all over the world, are coming soon to hear it officially. Which is why my father has to be here. He’s betting on us losing.”

If the water didn’t warm me up by now, the warning certainly would.

“Do you understand, Alina?” She squeezed my hands. “We have to get you sorted before then. Any weak link means death to us all.”

I wouldn’t lie, the insinuation that I may be the weakest of this Nest didn’t help the curdle of my stomach. Even with my ego a bit battered, I nodded.

She smiled wide, like a switch had been flipped. “Now let’s get you dressed or we will be late for tea.”

With a new spritely energy, she left the tub and wrapped her robe around herself again, disappearing back into her room to rummage for clothes.

I was left there with the existential question.

The stakes I’ve been thrust into were new and high, deadly. I couldn’t say I had full confidence in Silas and Luka, considering they were why we were in this particular mess. I’ve just awoken, and I already had six months of problems to catch up on.

Phoebe was right. Even if I wanted to help, I couldn’t. I didn’t know the culture, the politics, I hadn’t even grasped my new-turned nature yet. I was behind in every way of the word, on every facet, on every front line.

I may have survived the turn, but was I built to survive this world?

8

THE POISONER

One reason I missed Buffalo was the quiet.

The minute I leave the building, it’s like there’s a conniption happening in multiple places, at every head turn.

Shoulders brush mine, I must move around those taking over the entire pavement, too many horses and wheels on the road. I wondered how there weren’t more accidents unfolding before my eyes.

“Just up ahead!” Phoebe pulled me quickly by my arm, though I had no idea how her little legs were moving faster than mine.

“How far?”

“Four blocks.”

“That isn’t just up ahead, then,” I panted, my lungs burning from the intense walk.

“It doesn’t make sense to take a carriage.”

“It did five blocks ago,” I complained.

“Shush. Walk,” she scolded.

With a hard heel, I yanked her to the side of the walkway. Footsteps passing us were just as urgent as the clopping hooves on the street. Pigeons fluttered over us as we disturbed their crumb feasting.

“Why are you so focused on insignificant, leisurely errands when you’ve just told me we are on the edge of some secret societal war?”

She took such a deep breath that her shoulders shrugged on inhale, then slumped on release. “Because my task is to adjust you.”

“I have just died and come back to life; my mind is on far graver things than clothing.”

“Except, it isn’t,” she said firmly. “You are under the impression that I don’t understand how this is affecting you. That I don’t know that you are confused, disoriented, and what have you.” She stared up at me, chin stubbornly high. “What do you do when you don’t feel yourself?”