“But what you saw isn’t a good sign for my longevity,” Gwen finished for her. “I get it. And I appreciate the warning, Tilda.”
Before Gwen’s arrival, none of the oracles had shared the contents of their prophecies or what they’d learned about their captors. Now they did, typically via whispered late-night conversations conducted in the farthest corner of the room, and those conversations had clarified quite a lot.
From what the captives had pieced together, fae conspirators and common human insurrectionists had, in fact, jointly arranged for the zombies to escape and manufactured evidence pinning the blame on demons. Exactly as Gwen’s visions had indicated. But then—in a turn of events so unlikely that not a single captive oracle had foreseen the possibility—Max, Edie, and various other Zone residents had stymied the conspirators’ plot.
“Holy fuck, that fae asshole wasbeyond pissedwhen he found out,” Corey had whispered during the group’s discussion of the breach, prompting a round of schadenfreude-laden snickers.
Unfortunately, though, one failed scheme hadn’t sapped the conspirators’ determination. In recent visions, some of the kidnapped seers had spotted wisps of a new plan. A mass-casualty event at a parade, to be blamed on a witch-werewolf alliance and followed by the same catastrophic war Gwen and her friends had tried so hard to prevent.
To her vast relief, those recent visions had simply confirmed Josiah’s plans rather than helping to hone them—and given the captives’ rapidly weakening power, the likelihood of real prophetic assistance to their kidnappers diminished daily. But if that changed, and what they foresaw would hasten the apocalypse,they’d all vowed to keep their visions private. Even if denying Josiah might cost them everything.
“The dog’s teeth…” Matilda shuddered, still fixated on Gwen’s possible grisly fate. “You would notbelieve—”
Just then, thankfully, a guard rounded the corner and returned a dazed-looking, bloody-nosed Harry to his cubicle before gesturing impatiently at Timon.
Matilda went to fetch some water for Harry while Gwen absently watched Timon and the guard leave, her brain teeming with panic and half-baked escape plans. And only a minute after their oversized room’s door closed behind poor Timon, it opened again to admit Marlee Blacke.
The demon didn’t appear to have an oracle in tow. And Josiah was occupied by his daily session with Timon, so what was she doing here?
Marlee exchanged a few words with the two guards at the door. Then, to Gwen’s shock, she walked directly toward the cubicles. Toward Gwen.
“Holy fuck, she’s going to set you on fire,” Matilda hissed, shoving a refilled water bottle into Harry’s shaking hands. “Hide, Gwen!”
But she had nowhere to go. So when a tilt of Marlee’s head indicated the bathroom—because it was a less flammable setting for murder?—Gwen followed her into the small, dingy space while Tilda wrung her hands.
Marlee came to a stop near the sink.
“I apologize in advance for my abruptness.” Her whisper was very quiet. “But I have limited time, so let’s get the big news out of the way, shall we?”
Hugh’s mother hadapologized? To a mere lowly oracle?
“The…big news?” Gwen blinked at her, startled. “Marlee, I don’t—”
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” The other female actually winked at her. “I’m not actually Marlee. This is a glamour.”
Hope lit Gwen from the inside out, and she swayed toward the demon wearing Marlee’s face. Because sure, she’d never heard Hugh sound so jocular andloosebefore, but—
“It’s lovely to see you again, Gwen.” The demon beamed at Gwen. “I’m Eloise Blacke. Hugh’s sister.”
28
To stop herself from fainting, Gwen had to abruptly sit on the grimy tile floor. Marlee—or Eloise, rather—reached a tentative hand toward her, concern etched across her borrowed face.
“Are you all right?” When Gwen nodded dazedly, Eloise unceremoniously plopped down next to her and kept speaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I didn’t know you’d been taken here until I arrived this morning to file my weekly report.”
Was…was Gwen having another vision? Or dreaming?
“Um…” She peered at her bathroom-floor companion—Hugh’sdead sister, improbably enough?—in utter incomprehension. “What report?”
“It’s for my current afterlife assignment.” Eloise offered the explanation with startling good cheer. “I’m working as a guardian demon until I earn a new go-round. Most of the time, my consciousness is aboveground and looking out for my chargewhile my body is comatose and lying in a special dormitory over”—she pointed in the general direction of the guards—“that way. But each week, when I file my report about Dottie, I can reclaim my physical form for a few minutes. Et voilà! Here I am!”
With a graceful sweep of her hand, she gestured down at herself.
“I don’t…” Gwen spoke slowly. “I’m not sure what…”
“Sorry. I don’t get to chat much with new beings these days.” Eloise offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll get to the point. I know we won’t have long together.”
The oracles wouldn’t tattle about Gwen’s visitor. But, yes, if the demon believed to be Marlee spent too long closeted out of sight with the humans she’d personally kidnapped, surely the guards would start to suspect something amiss.
