Page 181 of Twisting Beauty

I hesitated.

Drop it and you have nothing.

Don’t drop it and he shoots.

I forced open my hand and the scalpel clanked against the concrete.

Alistair’s foot came out and kicked it backward across the floor, somewhere behind him. Gone.

He stepped closer, his sharp stench of wormwood and green anise crawled up into the back of my throat, the organ note pushing against my sternum until it was hard to breathe.

From down the room, a growl loosened from Deargán.

Alistair didn’t even turn his head.

“Such a shame,” he said, his voice almost soft as he bought up the gun to my face, touching the cold muzzle to my cheekbone. “I could have enjoyed a daughter like you.”

I swallowed back the bile that rose up in my throat as he traced the muzzle along the side of my jaw and lifted my chin with it, forcing me to look right at him.

“Work alongside me,” he said. “I’ll let you be Lorcan’s. You can even keep Rua’s name, if you’d like.”

A pained whimper came from Rua.

I wanted to spit in his face. Wanted to scream at him as I lashed out at him.

But his gun kept me in line. If I did anything stupid, I’d be dead. And so would Deargán for reacting.

“I’d rather die,” I bit out.

His smile dissolved. “You’ll get your wish.”

He stepped back from me, the gun still on me, and called out without turning his head. “Rua. Pat them down. Him first.”

Across the room, she flinched and for a second she didn’t move.

Hope flared so suddenly it hurt. My sister. She was going to choose me.

But the hope wavered almost as fast as it had come as Deargán’s voice slithered back through my head. She’s been shaped by Alistair her whole life.

Was he right? Was she Alistair’s pet?

She lifted her chin and walked toward Deargán.

My stupid heart sank. It seemed it had misjudged everyone.

He stood very still as he let her pat him down, his eyes finding mine over her head. I told you so.

I tore my eyes away, my chest aching.

Rua crossed the room to me, stopping so close that I could smell her sweet almonds and the metallic sour of fear underneath. She tugged her bracelet off my wrist and slipped it on hers, a soft sigh falling from her.

Then she lifted her hands to my shoulders and began to pat me down. Her hand passed over my pocket and stopped, her eyes snapping up to mine.

My phone. She had felt it.

Please. I begged her with my eyes. Let me keep it. Please.

She hesitated.