his bluff.
Bullshit. I was without Jace for a decade the first go-around and two full days the second. I can deal with a little frostbite. And for the record, no, I didn't mean it when I told you to be careful.
He laughs and I wish he'd screamed instead. His voice is calm, not a hint of anger or shock.
I didn't ask because I wanted an answer, I asked because I wanted to hear how you would answer. I am not Jace, nor is my blood weak like his. I've been perfectly honest with you. Our blood combined is a powerful thing. You don't have a choice—you need me like you need breath.
I am halfway down the corridor now, where I find a few fully occupied rooms and notice the sound of a handsaw in the distance.
When exactly did you sell your soul, Trinity? Or did you give it willingly?
Willingly, love, willingly.
I ignore him and study the doors, frustrated that the secret passageway to the vampire underworld isn't clearly marked. Ridiculous.
I will find you, Jessica. And I think you'll find our relationship a changed thing when you're returned to me.
When I'm returned to you? What is that supposed to mean?
You've tested the bounds of my graciousness,
Trinity says,
and found them wanting. I intended for you to have free will, was willing to exercise all the patience in world waiting for you to come to me. I have no alternative now but to assure your place by my side. By any way necessary.
I remember all too late his comment about what he could have led me to believe while he was in effect stealing my life and replacing it with a fabrication.
A fate worse than death.
For Jacelynd, who will still hear us, it will be. You won't see it quite that way—you may have my word on that.
I am spaced out and appear to be staring indiscriminately at a blank wall when a janitor catches my attention. I look up and realize that another employee, a coroner maybe, is loitering at the near end of what had just been an empty hall. He is wearing a white coat and appears to be engrossed in the chart he holds in his hands.
"You all right, miss?" The janitor asks. The coroner looks up.
"Yes, thank you. I um … " I stutter because I am too disturbed by Trinity's proposition to form a rational thought.
"There you are!" the coroner shouts, leaning in and seemingly adjusting his small-rimmed glasses to see better. "We've been looking for you everywhere. You can't go wandering off from the day room like that."
My first thought is to run, that this is one of Trinity's overzealous drones, but as the coroner comes closer, I have to fight to contain my excitement.
"Tenth-floor patient. You know, one of
those.
" Quinn shakes his head as he addresses the janitor and wraps and arm around my shoulder. "Sophie, Sophie, Sophie. We've got to get better at this or we'll have no choice to but to go back to the Thorazine drip."
We are around the corner and standing in an alcove when he moves his arm and speaks. "Do you have a penchant for pain?" Quinn asks hoarsely, trying to keep his voice low. "You could have gotten yourself killed. That isn't a janitor, it's Cerebus. Nothing more than a complicated computer program, but a damn good one. He'll have Sophie's name on his report since I said it three times, but shit, Jess, you were damn close to a catastrophe."
"How do you know about this place? I thought that's what you needed me for?"
He looks insulted. "I, unlike my lovely cousin, don't go barging into places without any preparation. I needed you off of your dose so they couldn't track you here. I wasn't an assassin. I was a transporter. It's how I knew Blake was still alive and how I managed to screw with the assignments enough to call you out of reserves. Nice performance in the waiting room, by the way."
"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you just tell me that you were my cousins?"
Quinn laughs. "You know damn well that you wouldn't have believed us even if we had."
This is true. Sad, but true.
"Is Jace … ?"
"He isn't here. I sent him a text upstairs to let