Page 35 of Cuervo's Carnival
She continues. “Now, this can be associated with family, which most people think is where true unconditional love derives from.” Another chuckle falls from her lips, but it’s louder and arguably more sarcastic this time. “What a bold assumption,” she says, not attempting to hide the sarcasm in her tone.
Her laugh settles, and before she can say anything else, the guys’ phones ping at the same time.
“Fucking Christ, this shit again,” Cillian shouts, as I feel the wagon tilt slightly.
I go to turn toward him, but Madame Eronel snaps her fingers, signaling her raven,Purgatorio, to swoop down from her shoulder and settle onto mine.
Madame Eronel’s voice steals my attention from where my torso is half-turned in the direction of Cillian. “Let them go. You can catch up to them in a minute,” she commands. Her amber eyes gleam through the lace shielding her face.
I peer at the talons perched on my shoulder.
“He likes you,” she begins, her voice sounding warmer than just moments before. “As he should. One day, he will be yours.”
One day, he will be mine?
My brows furrow, “Excuse me?” I stutter.
What the fuck does she mean this creepy-ass raven is going to be mine?
“We don’t have much time,” she says flatly, shifting her head in the direction of an hourglass in the corner of the wagon. “You heard me. Now, listen, this is important.Sangreis not always thicker than those who enter your life by other means. Love—true love—honors you, protects you, and doesn’t wish you harm. Eternal love is a gift, one that you must fight for.Comprende?”
I shake my head. “Yes, but—”
“Now, go to them. They need you, just like you need them.”
I hesitate.
Clapping her hands,Purgatorioleaves my shoulder, perching itself on her shoulder once more. With the absence of its talons on my skin, my body becomes increasingly more frigid.
“Go now,” she orders.
I rise from the chair, which skids against the floor, and my gaze averts to the dwindling hourglass she looked to just moments before.
“That coldness you feel that prickles your skin, that raises your hairs, as if it is infiltrating your soul…” she begins.
“Yes.” I nod in apprehension at what she could possibly say next.
“That is your guide, don’t fear it.”
“How did you know?” I ask.
“Some say it’s a curse, but it’s a gift. Listen to what it tells you before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“Your life, sweet Lola.”
16
Cillian
My chest tightens,constricting my ability to inhale a deep breath, as I try to process the nightmare unfolding in real-time.
I continue my fast-paced stride, debating if I should begin running, but the adrenaline coursing through me doesn’t fuel me the way it does Paxton. In moments where adrenaline toys with fear, like it is now, I feel like my limbs will give out if I risk it and run. So, instead, I continue to feverishly walk far away from what remains of the burnt wagon.
“Cil, wait up!” Pax shouts behind me, but I ignore him, increasing the distance between where he trails behind me and where Lo is talking to a fucking pile of ash.
Fuck, this is too much.
