Page 91 of (Mostly) Human Resources

The tight ropes rendered her hands and feet nearly numb, and an icy coldness began to ache painfully in her fingertips. Her voice was barely a whisper, but her gaze was resolute. “Please. Just let him go. I’ll do whatever you want,”

“You value your life so little?” The auburn-haired woman sneered, a nasty thing filled with a malice that Alexys was sure colored her very soul black. “Aren’t you a pathetic pair.”

Alexys looked back to Nic. It was a horrible mistake.

Nic’s face was wet with tears. His eyes were red-rimmed, shining a brilliant mercurial silver in the lamplight. He shook his head at her, fighting against the bonds holding him. He finally managed to spit out the gag, his breaths tearing raggedly from him, horribly loud in the quiet space.

“Don’t you dare,” he shouted at her. “Don’t youfuckingdare!”

The sound echoed off the walls and drew the attention of the others. They stopped their altar preparations and watched the macabre standoff.

“Don’t do this Alexys,please.” Nic choked on the words, his chest rising and falling with frantic breaths. His eyes held hers with an emotion she couldn’t name and couldn’t look away from. “If you would just listen to me foronce in your life, you could survive this. I don’t care about me. I don’t care as long as you make it. Ineedyou to make it.”

“I’m sorry, Nic. I can’t.” A sob caught in her chest. “I can’t let another person die because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, I’ve told you that. None of this is! Stop trying to be a martyr!”

“It can’t be you. You’regood, Nic. You’re so good, and I’m—I can’t …” Alexys broke off as another sob shook her body. Her chestburned with it. If anyone made it out of this alive, it had to be Nic. He wouldn’t have even been here if she had just …

“Enough. This is pathetic.”

Alexys’s gaze snapped to the auburn-haired woman whose name she wished she remembered if only to curse it with every stabbing beat of her heart. She thrashed against the two people who took hold of her. Alexys wanted to dig her nails into the woman’s flawless, ivory skin. To make her spill a drop of blood for every second Elliot had been gone. To claw the sneer from her face. The sheer strength of her rage and desperation stole her breath.

“The moonlight’s fading,” the woman said. “It’s gotta be now.” She took the obsidian dagger from the other cultist standing beside the altar. The black blade glittered in the firelight. Alexys’s fingers itched to take it from her and kill her before she had the chance to use it.

The woman sneered at her again. Her cruel eyes desired nothing but to inflict pain on the people around her, starting with Alexys.

“Take me.” Alexys’s words were a desperate plea as her tears ran hot and angry. “If you hate me so much, take me instead.”

The woman clicked her tongue, both mocking and rebuking. “So eager to die.” She took a step toward Alexys, blade shining dangerously between her skeletal fingers.

Alexys felt a sickening mixture of triumph and desperation. A rushing sound started to fill her ears. Her vision blurred. She was going to die.

Alexys scrambled for mental purchase. To come to terms with her inevitable death before the cultist got too close. Thoughts of her mom, of her brother, of everyone she loved and cared for swept through her, but she couldn’t move. She knelt, frozen on the ground, as everyone in the room stilled.

“Agnes.” The man with the scar-like wrinkles and gray hair stepped forward.

Alexys marked the name, engraved it on the wretched part of her heart that promised retribution if ever given the opportunity:Agnes.

If they made it out alive, Alexys would come back for her.

Agnes and the older man seemed to have a silent conversation, one Alexys couldn’t begin to interpret. Agnes scowled at her then turned on her heel and stalked back toward the altar.

“No.” The hold on her arms tightened as Alexys jerked. “No, no! Take me!”

Agnes tossed one more venomous smile over her shoulder but didn’t stop walking toward Nic.

The six remaining people gathered in a loose circle around the altar and began to chant three lines in repetition:

“Of ourselves, for ourselves. To conceal and protect. For the deal that was struck.”

Alexys thrashed, begging and pleading to take his place. None of them listened.

I can save him.

Silas’s voice cut through the chanting like a shard of ice. Alexys froze. That icy voice was so close, her gaze darted around the room, but she couldn’t see him.

The chanting grew louder. Her heart raced. She screamed at the cultists to stop.