Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Now, I was as close to ready as I was going to get. She’d pinned the sides of my hair up, and the rest flowed down my back in red waves. My skin appeared luminous under the vanity lights.
She’d gone heavy on the dark brown eye shadow, but otherwise I was fine with everything. It didn’t matter to me. Not really. I didn’t want to impress anyone. Maybe I should have gone the dowdy route, made myself less appealing for the upcoming Christmas trial. Though I knew what they had planned for me wasn’t about sex. Not really. It was about violence. About taking something from me.
I took a deep breath and did my best to smile at Renee in the mirror. She tossed the last bobby pins on the counter and returned my smile. “I think I’ve done it. You look amazing. Maybe not as fabulous as you did for the ball, but you had professionals helping you…”
She let her words trail off when I dropped my gaze to my hands.
She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
I placed my hand over hers and met her dark eyes in the mirror once again. “It’s fine. It’s my life now, after all. And we’re sort of in this together, right? Just twenty years apart.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.” She sighed. “I know it’s you. I know you’re the one going through it, but I still feel it, you know? It’s like a wound that never fully healed. When you went to the ball, I knew I couldn’t save you, but I felt it as if I were there again, reliving it. Instead of a fresh pain, it was a dull ache. The emotions—they were the same. I-I felt it. I understand.”
If she still felt this pain, would I twenty years from now? Would I still be here, helping the next sacrificial lamb prepare to have its throat slit? I shuddered at the thought. Never.
“And there’s one more thing.” She pulled open the small drawer on the far left of the vanity and plucked out a syringe.
A ribbon of worry streaked through me. “What’s that for?”
“For you. It’s your usual prescription.” She wrinkled her brow. “To be effective, you need it now. Just in case… at the trial, you see…”
I studied the syringe and my eyes widened with recognition. Birth control. My last shot had been three months prior, so Renee was right on time. Vinemont had left no stone unturned, getting my medical information and keeping me in tip top shape for the Christmas trial. My eyes burned with angry tears.
“This is so twisted, Renee.” I balled my hands into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms. “So fucking twisted.”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
“No. It’s fine.” I fought the tears, not letting a single one drop. “Just do it.”
I offered my arm and she ripped open an alcohol wipe, cleaned a spot, and injected me. A slight sting and then nothing. Now I’m protected. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the thought. I would never be protected, never be safe until I was free of the Acquisition.
She tossed the syringe into the waste basket. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I shuddered at the thought of carrying a child as a result of the Christmas trial. “And thank you … For doing it for me, I mean.”
Renee kissed the crown of my head before laying her cheek against my hair for a few moments. I was surprised such a small gesture could impart so much solace. But by the time she straightened, I felt her warmth flowing through me like a mild transfusion.
She smiled big enough to almost convince me it was genuine. “Wait ‘til you see the gown I picked for you.”
“If it’s got feathers—” I grimaced. “—I’ll pass.”
She laughed and shook her head, her dark hair shining. “No feathers. Not this time. Come on.”
I followed her into my bedroom and stopped when I spied the dress she’d laid out on my bed. It was black with a plunging neckline. The hem would fall to my ankle, but the high slit would leave little to the imagination.
I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think I can pull that off, Renee.”
Renee threw her hands on her hips. “Modesty is confidence’s ugly sister.”
I laughed. For a woman who’d I never seen in anything other than prim black and white, Renee surprised me.
She pushed me forward. “Put it on. I know it’ll be perfect.”
“Fine. For you. I’ll try it for you.” I shrugged out of my robe and trudged to my dresser for some underwear.
Renee cleared her throat. I turned to look at her over my shoulder. “What?”
She pointed to a thin piece of black material that I hadn’t noticed next to the dress.