I picked up a rose petal; it rasped and crunched in my fingers.
“I asked you about the knife. You’d said it made you feel better. You’d said you wanted something like that against Janan.”
The petal crumbled and bits fluttered to the floor, and I couldn’t forget his guilty expression anytime we’d spoken of Menehem’s lab. I’d felt bad about keeping the truth from people, but he’d seemed to take the guilt even harder. “What did you do?”
He met my eyes and drew a shaky breath. “I turned on the machine. It’s been making the poison since we left.”
“Oh.” A hundred emotions flooded through me, shock and dread and gratitude.
“You said it would take an incredible amount to affect Janan even for a moment. I don’t understand much about it. I just turned on the machine and input the ratios from the dose that worked on sylph. It may not do anything. It may be for nothing. But I wanted to give you a knife.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t ready to believe it would work, but my heart swelled with what he’d done for me. Turning on the machine went against his nature, but he loved me and wanted me to feel safe. “So that’s where we go first, before the Council looks into it. Unless…”
I touched my fingertips to the exterior wall.
The white stone was warm, as usual, but it didn’t do anything untoward. I dared a moment of relief.
Shouldn’t have.
The heartbeat pulsed faster than ever. I snatched my hand back, echoes of Janan’s roaring in my head, visions of Cris a sylph behind my eyes. He’d freed us, but nothing more.
Midnight struck.
The Year of Souls had begun.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ETERNAL THANKS TO:
Lauren MacLeod, my agent, and Sarah Shumway, my editor. Thank you for always challenging me to do better and inspiring me to try harder. I can’t imagine this journey without you ladies.
The entire team at Katherine Tegen Books, including Amy Ryan, Brenna Franzitta, Casey McIntyre, Esilda Kerr, Joel Tippie, Katherine Tegen, Laurel Symonds, Lauren Flower, and Megan Sugrue. Hearts and flowers to you all.
The amazing people who read early versions (or last-minute changes!) of this book: Adam Heine, Beth Revis, Bria Quinlan, Christine Nguyen, C. J. Redwine, Corinne Duyvis, Gabrielle Harvey, Jamie Harrington, Jaime Lee Moyer, Jillian Boeme, Joy Hensley George, Kathleen Peacock, Lisa Iriarte, Myra McEntire, and Wendy Beer. Your comments, encouragement, and kicks in the butt were invaluable for getting this book from pixels to paper. I’m so grateful that you’re all in my life.
Warm thanks and adoration to Jeri Smith-Ready, Rachel Hawkins, and Robin McKinley, who said such nice things about Incarnate. Your praise means so much to me, as I’m an incredible fan of your books as well.
Special thanks to the book bloggers, writers, and knit bloggers who helped me launch the Incarnate Theater Treasure Hunt the week Incarnate was released. Your support, enthusiasm, and hard work amaze me.
Adam Heine, Amanda Miller, Amanda at Loves Books Reviews, Amber Mitchell, Amy Fournier, Angel Cruz, Anna Billings, Asheley Tart, Becky Herrick, Best Tanakasempipat, Bonnie Lynn Wagner, Brenna at Ever After Esther, Charlee Vale, Dot Hutchison, Emily Wright, Enna at Squeaky Books, Gabi Becker, Gabrielle Carolina, Hannah Courtney, Jaime from Two Chicks on Books, James at Book Chic Club, Jessica Reigle, Jodie at Uniquely Moi Books, Julie, Katie, Kaye M., Lauren at 365 Days of Reading, Linda Dao, Mary at the Book Swarm, Mei Jiao Ashley Chen, MG Buehrlen, Michelle and Amethyst at Libri Ago, Michelle Villarmia, Rachel, Sana Reddy, Sarah Nicolas, Shanyn Day, Shellie from Creative Reads, Shelley Watters, Stephanie at Poetry to Prose, Stephanie Huber, Susan Adrian, Tammy Moore, and Traci Inzitari.
Jill Roberts, for being the best, most encouraging mother a girl could ask for. Thank you for always believing in me.
Jeff Meadows, for unending patience and understanding, and willingness to listen to book-crazed ramblings at all hours of the day.
Thanks to God, who I will never be able to thank enough.
And thank you, reader, for picking up this book. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
About the Author
JODI MEADOWS lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginina, with her husband, a cat, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can visit her online at www.jodimeadows.com.
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