Page 123 of The Vixen

Then five-hundred seventy-three steps to the oak tree with roots arched from the ground.

Turn feet thirty-five degrees to the left and walk another one-thousand-eight-hundred and six steps.

“Get up,” Liberty commands. “Please.”

I ignore it. Even when she starts to panic-sob, I ignore it.

Once outside the compound, it’s four thousand nine hundred thirty five steps east through the forest. Right turn, left veer, left turn, right turn, and there’s a barn.

“Sawyer.”

My breaths get deeper, more even, and finally, when air touches the bottom of my lungs, I stand straight and start striding. We have to move.Now.

Liberty and I don’t speak another word as we walk deeper into the forest, weaving around traps and ducking beneath branches. When the horn sounds a third time to signal the end of the ceremony, I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood, but I don’t allow my steps to slow.

Numbers flash in my mind with every step. My teeth tap along. I don’t have the mental bandwidth to consider anything but my steps and my count.

Everything else must wait.

When Liberty lags behind, I take Persephone from her and start to jog. Not too fast, I don’t want to incorrectly estimate my strides.

We make it to the coyote trap and Liberty helps me tear open a wound on my back so we can smear torn pieces of Persephone’s dress in fresh blood. We space them around the trap before taking off again, this time faster, count be damned.

We’re already past the river, so I lead us to the oak tree first.

Then the moss-covered log.

Through the thick minefield of metal claws and tripwires.

Until finally, we reach the fence.

There’s a couple on the other side just as Luna promised. The man wears a top hat and black suit like he drove here from the Victorian era.

The woman has curly hair like Persephone’s and skin to match. As I get closer, I notice the similarity in bone structure, and in the woman’s wide, beady eyes.

“Persephone,” the woman calls, making the man stop his pacing and rush to the gate. The woman grasps the metal rings but jerks her hands away. The current is subtle, certainly not enough to kill, but it stings.

“Is she hurt?” the man asks. I shake my head and look around for a sturdy branch while I drop to my knees, Persephone securely cradled against my chest.

“Where’s Rose?!” I peek up to find the woman on her toes, searching the forest for someone lagging behind.

Rose?

Liberty’s mouth opens, but she looks to me for words.

“She’s safe,” I offer. I nod toward a branch a few yards away. “Liberty…”

“Where?” The woman recoils from the fence a second time while Liberty retrieves the branch. I lodge it beneath the chain link and pry back the bottom of the fence, worn from the effort of the liberated, probably including the woman before me.

“We were assured you’d bring both sisters.” The man’s gruff voice grows louder.

“We couldn’t get to Rose in time,” Liberty says, flashing me an uncertain glance. “But don’t worry. We’ll call the authorities as soon as?—”

“What?” the woman shrieks. Too loud. I look behind us. “You can’t call the police!”

The man places a hand on her shoulder. “Aurelius has contingencies. The Head Keeper knows this; it’s not as simple as?—”

“We’re not calling the police.”