Lead Heart (Seraph Black, #3)

“I do,” Charles spoke up nervously. We all turned to stare at him, and he stood from his chair, shifting his eyes from Clarin to me. “Um… it’s down the hall, do you want me to show you? He doesn’t have a roommate.”


I nodded, and we all trailed Charles as he skirted the silent giants and made his way into the hall. Our company of six was now a company of nine, and we were drawing more attention than I would have liked, but there was nothing to be done about it. Charles stopped before a door that wasn’t closed properly, frowning at the marks on the frame indicating that the door had been forcefully opened. I pushed past him into the room, and then stopped, my heart beating so violently that I laid a hand again my chest, as though I needed an extra barrier in the event that my ribs weren’t sturdy enough to contain the panicking organ.

One of the beds was overflowing with technical equipment; cameras and recorders, cords and old monitors, along with any number of things that I simply couldn’t put a name to. Along the wall were several boxes, stacked neatly with photographs. I walked numbly over to the boxes, picking up one of the photos and examining the shot of Quillan, Silas, Noah, Cabe and myself gathered in the driveway of the mountain house. Cabe had his arm slung around my shoulder and he was looking at Noah, his beautiful face caught in the middle of a laugh. Noah was smirking, and even Silas seemed to be flashing his breathtaking smile. Quillan was looking at me while the rest of us were laughing at Noah, and there was an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite label. It was soft and warm, a little exasperated, and a little amused. It caused a tight ball of joy to flicker inside me, and I slipped the photo into my pocket as I turned to survey the rest of the room.

The light inside me spluttered out quickly. Poison was running her hands along the walls, where rhyme after rhyme had been scrawled.

“You found him.” Clarin sounded like he was going to be sick. His face was pale, his green eyes frightened.

“I used to read him nursery rhymes…” I moved to stare at the scrawl of words alongside Poison. “He had—has—a very dangerous ability; when he was little, it used to take him away from himself. It used to force him to do bad things, and he would come to me crying most nights. I used to tell him stories and it would calm him down. It never took away what he had done, but it helped him to pretend.”

The tears were silently falling down my face and Clarin grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around as Poison switched her attention from the wall to me.

“Please tell me you don’t feel sorry for this psycho,” Clarin asked, his fingers curling inward with too much pressure.

“No.” I shook my head sadly. “Not anymore.”

He released me, deflating a little. I rubbed at my shoulder and he cringed, immediately soothing his hands over where he had gripped too hard. Unsurprisingly, he was jerked away from me.

Noah held him by the back of his shirt. “I get that you guys are friends and everything,” he groused, “but could you maybe be friends without touching ever again?”

Clarin disentangled himself and someone in the room muttered, “I thought she was dating Professor Quillan.”

We all turned to stare at Charlie, who immediately paled.

“Did I say that out loud?” he asked.

Dumbly, I nodded. “Professor Quillan is my… er, professor.”

I dared a glance at Quillan, who was looking predictably uncomfortable.

“So…” Poison interrupted, moving to stand in front of Charlie, as though blocking him out might dispel the awkwardness. “What’s the plan? What are we doing?”

Charlie moved around her, sticking his hands in his pockets, and she shot him a look that was clearly supposed to say ‘what the hell are you still doing here?’ He only shrugged in response, and I had to bite back my laugh. I liked seeing someone stand up to Poison, especially someone as clueless—and frankly, adorable—as Charlie. I was honestly surprised that he was still hanging around, any other person would have escaped the room by now. Maybe that was why nobody was kicking him out. Nobody knew what to do with him.

“The plan is never to trust Silas ever again,” I said, kicking my shoe against the ground.

“I could have told you that ages ago.” Clarin sounded exasperated. “What has he done now?”

“He kidnapped Danny,” Quillan replied, a wince evident in the downward curl of his mouth. “He’s probably going to get us all killed.”

“And he lied to us,” I added.

“Well that’s what you get from a person who can’t be punished,” Poison said. “If he can’t be disciplined, there’s nothing holding him back from whatever he wants to do. Honestly, how many people has that guy killed? Don’t get me wrong—I love him as much as it’s possible to love the sociopathic boyfriend of your best friend, especially since he also happens to be my cousin… but seriously, guys… he needs to be reined in. Maybe also put into solitary confinement. He definitely needs to see a psychologist. One that he won’t be tempted to kill.”

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