Page 80 of A Murder of Crows
They have a few minutes’ head start. That’s all.
As long as we follow the right trail.
Chapter forty-two Caterina
Awareness returns in a blinding, ripping bolt of pain.
I surge upright, the scream locked in my throat as the agony in my shoulder twists violently.
“That’s better.”
My head swivels to the side as I retch, rolling over. The stink of egg and sulfur lingers in my nose.
Smoke. So much smoke.
And I couldn’t get out.
Except the floor beneath me is not marble but cool, packed mud, my fingers digging into it, leaving marks embedded in the ground. Gasping, I lay my cheek against the earth.
The kick hits me somewhere around the left side of my ribcage. My scream is raw as somethingcracks, my body flipping over and rolling to a slumped stop.
Panting, I try to pull myself upright, try to reach for my knives—
“Looking for these?”
I blink, staring upwards as my daggers dangle in front of me. “I was.”
Thanks to the smoke, on top of the still healing marks from my recent strangulation attempts, not much comes out.
The man crouches down, and fingers grip my chin. “Hello, Corvo bitch.”
Grimacing, I try to pull away, but he holds me easily. “Leo.”
Giovanni’s enforcer smiles, a twisted, triumphant smirk, eyes glittering with jubilation. And something… darker. “Surprise.”
“Not really,” I force out. “A little obvious, to be honest.”
The blow rocks my head to the side, my ears ringing as pain rips through my cheek, drawing a choked groan from my throat. I reach up, my fingers smearing in wet liquid that drips down my face.
Leo holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers. “I brought it especially for you.”
The brass knuckle duster gleams in the light from the stars ahead as he stands. Pushing myself up onto my knees, I bite back the moan at the pain in my ribs.
A circle of Fuscos surrounds me. Every face is staring down at me with revulsion.
There will be no mercy here.
Gathering up the bloody phlegm in my mouth, I spit it onto the ground at Leo’s feet. “Stealing ideas from the Crows, Leo? Awfully unimaginative. The circle isourthing.”
His face twists into fury. “You dare. Dare to make fuckingjokes, while Rosa’s body isn’t even cold yet. Where is she?”
When I stay silent, he grabs my head, twisting it. “See that? That’s where you’re going, Crow. Tell us where she is, and I’ll shoot you before I put you in.”
My pulse begins to race, my heart jumping in painful leaps as I look at the site of my execution.
The wooden box is small. Enough that I know I won’t fit properly. They’ll have to force my legs up, twist them. Break them, maybe. The hole next to it is obvious enough.
Sweat beads up along my hairline, sliding down to mix with the blood on my face. “Probably not my preferred option, truth be told.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80 (reading here)
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93