Scarlett Romero has spent her entire life as an ordinary citizen; going to school, getting a job and definitely not killing people in the middle of the woods on a Friday night.
Until one Friday night, she does.
All she can remember is acting out of...
Then it went dark And it rained, and rained, And rained.
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Chapter Twenty-Five "Never Mind, it Didn't Work"
Scarlett's POV:
The blood freezes in my veins, but my heart beats rapidly in my chest. I stare at Quinn, then at the secret passage now blocked by her guards, and I will myself to appear strong, even though my earlier hope has melted into nothingness.
"I have to say..." Quinn trails off for a second, hand tightening around her machete. "Your plan would have worked perfectly if it weren't for that one mistake, Scarlett."
I don't bother replying, shifting so my body hides Kylie from view. If Quinn plans on doing the whole 'villain monologue', I'll take the time to protect Kylie as much as I can.
She may have known about the supernatural world for longer than me, but she has been isolated to her cell for our time in Citadel prison. She knows nothing of Quinn and the contempt she shows us all.
Kill or be killed – that's what Alexander told me so many months ago; when we snuck off to see Kylie and he ripped apart guard after guard.
Quinn doesn't seem bothered by my reluctance to respond, going on like she's the only person left in the world, "You looked back. You looked back and when we investigated, this is what we found."
I blink incredulously, "I'm going to need more than just, 'you looked back'."
"After Colonel Tolkien announced Kylie's execution, some low-ranking guards tried to blow you and your pet animal up. But you two were in the roof, and we were none the wiser, until you stopped, and the guards saw you."
Something wicked slithers up my chest and wraps around my throat, squeezing just enough to feel like I can't breathe. If I had done what Alexander said, and not turned around, we wouldn't be in this mess. We'd already be on our way to Quinn's office; possibly out of the prison.
I don't let the guilt settle, but I can feel it festering deep in my gut. It's enough to be distracting, and when I try to form an air shield around Kylie and I, it flickers and cracks before collapsing. I flinch as it backfires into my face, a flurry of cold air and glass like stinging.
Quinn, the arrogant bastard, catches the look and smirks. I swallow thickly, a surge of adrenaline mixing with my nerves. Using the elements is the hardest when I have time to think about what I'm doing, because I'm consciously trying to focus on getting those elements to do what I want.
When I don't have to think, and I can rely on my instincts to take over, using my power as an element wielder is effortless.
But now, where I'm distracted with the building guilt in my gut and under threat by an army of trigger-happy prison staff... it's going to be almost impossible to get my mind to focus unless Quinn attacks first. And if I can't get the elements to work, Kylie and I may as well let them shoot us.
