Page 133 of Juniper Unraveling

I sit up from him, looking to capture his full attention. “Papa found the cure, Rhys. The antibody. It’s based on your blood. You hold the strongest titers against the protein. If we can get ahold of it, we can barter our way into Szolen. At least a portion of it.”

“How do you know they haven’t already found it? His lab was surely ransacked.”

I shake my head, lying back down against his chest. “Papa had no intentions of them finding it. He’d never hand over the cure like that.”

“How do you know it even exists?”

“His journal.”

“Then, why didn’t he use it to save himself?”

I stare down at the scar across my wrist and frown. “Because you have to want to be saved.”

* * *

Screams echo down the dark hallway, and I slap my hands to my ears, whispering the Lord’s Prayer as I tiptoe on. My head tells me not to look through the windows, but morbid curiosity gets the best of me, and I do. On the other side of the glass, to the right of me, is a boy with blond curls. I somehow know it’s Abel, but he’s older, as if he’s aged along with me this whole time.

“Dani!” he cries out from the table he’s strapped to, kicking and wriggling beneath the thick leather belts across his arms, chest, and legs.

It’s only an illusion, I tell myself. Not real.

Ahead of me, Ivan stands in his black uniform, wearing the devil’s grin with his hand outstretched for me. “C’mon, Dani. I want to show you something.”

“What is it?” I ask warily, refusing to reach back to him.

“A surprise.”

Fear ripples down my spine, chattering my teeth, as I follow behind him.

None of this is real. None of it.

We come to a stop in front of another window. Inside, a man lies on a bloody gurney with his skull exposed, the threads of his flesh held by metal clamps. The surgeon steps to the side, and I slap a hand to my face, recognizing Papa’s profile. In spite of the contraptions holding him still, he manages to turn toward me, his lips mouthing the word Wren.

Or run.

My heart slams into my chest, and I throw myself against the glass, pounding at the window.

The surgeon turns and lowers the mask at his face.

A cold fist of dread locks tight around my lungs, as Six stares back at me, wearing his wily grin, eyes black as a shark’s.

“Shhh,” Ivan whispers in my ear, snaking a hand down into my pants. I can feel his fingers brushing over my folds, while the other hand grips tight to my mouth. “I found you. And I will destroy you this time.”

I shoot upright with a scream ripping from my chest. Through rapid, panting breaths, I scan the room, looking for Ivan.

Hands grip my shoulders, and I let out another scream, clawing them off of me.

“Wren!” Rhys’s voice penetrates the shield of illusion that keeps me from seeing him. “Wren!” His tone is firmer, and his grip tightens against me.

Swallowing past the dry lump in my throat, I double blink, taking in the flickering sconces on the wall, the metallic scent, and the strong hands pulling me, against my body’s protest.

I exhale a shaky breath, and the first bout of nausea hits my stomach as the panic recedes. “Just … a nightmare.”

“What happened?” The warmth of his chest hits my cheek, as he tugs me against him.

Shaking my head summons the visuals of Six and Papa, and I clamp my eyes over the tears. I can’t tell him.

“You’ve been shivering since I returned. Lea said you refused supper. And now the nightmare. What’s troubling you?”