BooksBarbecue
Back Point Last Seen
Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Booklist
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Adam, of course, seemed uninterested in the beauty of the home. Instead, his gaze assessed their surroundings, and he paid particular attention to any cover offered by trees, foliage and outbuildings.

They crossed the broad, flat lawn to the cast-iron double doors. With the panache of a true showman, Angelica flung them open and stepped back. “Welcome to the Tower. Mi casa es su casa.”

52

ON THE ROOF OF the Live Oak, Clarice knelt before Zsóke, clutched her hand close to her chest and wept. This new pain was focused under the nail of her index finger, but so many places hurt she didn’t know if she could bear to live. So many places hurt she probably wouldn’t live. How could she survive, when her wrist had been twisted so hard the bones had cracked and her skin had been slashed and her joints broken?

“Shut up. I didn’t hurt you.” Zsóke stood over her, the thin stiletto flashing in the sunlight.

Clarice raised her tear-stained face. “Hurt me? Of course you hurt me!”

“No, I didn’t.”

She was in agony, and the other two on her acting team believed she had submersed herself in her role of the mad King Lear. When they praised her for her dedication and she might have tried to confide in them, Zsóke snapped at them to leave Clarice alone to brew her role.

Now Zsóke smiled a broad white smile and promised, “If you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about.”

How could Zsóke be so unreasonable? “You slid your knife under my fingernail. Three fingernails! You cut my—”

The stiletto suddenly pointed at Clarice’s right eye.

Clarice gulped back her tears. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“That’s right. I’ve never hurt you.”

“You’ve never hurt me.”

“I only punish you when you deserve it.”

Clarice’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t repeat that. She couldn’t. How could she agree it was her fault Zsóke tortured her with such skill and enjoyment?

Yet the knife tip was an inch from her face, from her eye, unwavering, glinting in the sun.

How had this all started? Up here, on the roof, that night when Clarice overheard Zsóke’s intention to murder Elle. Elle, whose real name was Elladora, who had run afoul of Zsóke’s boss and had almost died at his hands. Clarice had meant to flee the roof, warn Adam and Elle, call law enforcement...

Now when she saw Zsóke watching the street below, waiting for the opportunity to erase Elle from the face of the earth, Clarice couldn’t bring herself to care. All she lived for was one moment free from pain.

“What do you say?” Zsóke embodied everything about command and cruelty.

“I said...you only punish me when I...” Clarice took a quavering breath. “You only punish me when I—”