Page 12 of Endless Anger (Monsters Within #1)

ASHER

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

Quincy’s sitting in front of my bed, her legs pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees. Her dark brown eyes—just like mine and Dad’s—have purple bags beneath them, and her black hair is pulled back, her bangs almost hiding her expression.

Complete and total terror.

I shrug out of my hoodie and toss my headphones onto my desk. “Didn’t know you were home.”

She doesn’t respond, so I kick out of my sneakers and move to my dresser, finding clothes for after my shower. Running with Foxe this morning was the only thing that could keep me from heading to the Wolfe residence and making an even bigger fool of myself.

I’m covered in sweat, seriously unpracticed from miles-long runs, but somehow Foxe was glowing . Despite finishing his night pissing J?germeister and fucking who knows what, he’d been prepped and ready to go before I even showed up.

That’s been his routine for the past few months, really. Could be a problem, but as long as he’s functioning, who the hell am I to intervene?

I’m not his mother, and I’ve got my own problems.

Growing irritated with Quincy’s prolonged silence, I slam my dresser drawer shut and spin around, pinning my sister with a look. “What are you doing in my room? Don’t you usually poke around in Noelle’s when you visit?”

“She’s not home,” Quincy whispers.

It takes me a moment to realize she’s shivering—no, trembling . My throat constricts, and my hands ball into fists at my sides, wrinkling the clothes.

I think about the one time I saw Noelle in a similar state years ago, when she’d spent several hours in the shower and came out bloodred all over.

Back then, I was just a kid, so I didn’t mention anything. She never said what happened, and I think to this day it’s a secret, but I’ll never forget that look in her eyes.

Shallow and broken, so similar to Quincy’s now.

“What’s wrong?” I demand.

Finally, Quincy moves, shaking her head just slightly. When she lifts her gaze, I try not to react over how bloodshot it is. The whites aren’t visible. At all.

There’s dirt dried on her jaw and a scrape across her cheek. Yellow bruising on her neck.

My heart beats faster.

Faster still.

So fast, I think I might pass out.

Inhaling slowly, I inch a step toward the door. “I’m getting Dad.”

“ No ,” Quincy rushes out, her eyes widening.

It’d be comical— me , the Anderson family vault, threatening to tattle on one of my sisters—if she didn’t seem so panicked.

Thing is Dad’s got forty or so years of life on me. Vengeance is much easier for him to navigate with a calm mind, whereas the idea swallows me whole.

Already, I want to taste the blood of whoever made Quincy look like this. I want to feel it pump beneath my fingers before the life leaves them for good.

“I told him and Mom. They’re aware. That’s why I came home. ”

“All right.” I scratch at the back of my neck. “Then what’s going on? Why are you here?”

She frowns, bringing her hands into her lap. I watch, silent, as she twists them together, the delicate gold rings on her knuckles shifting with each movement.

“You’re not going to Avernia.” She glances up at me. “Right? Mom said you weren’t sure?—”

“Are you asking or warning me against it?”

It takes her another minute to respond. She’s always been like that though. Methodical and precise, so concerned with how she presents to the rest of the world.

“I’d advise you against it,” she says finally. “It’s…not a good place. There are people there who’d love to see you suffer.”

“Why am I always getting singled out?”

“Not just you,” Quincy says. “All of us.”

Frustration zips through me, and I fold my arms over my chest. “Stop being cryptic, and just tell me what’s going on. You can’t say stupid shit and expect me to accept the vagueness. If it’s okay for you to still go there, why can’t I?”

“There are things I can’t escape,” she tells me, her voice somewhat pleading. She’s always so quiet and put together, it’s unnerving to see her unravel before me. “I’ve got it under control. Mostly. Things have been going on, and tonight… Something rattled me.”

“ What ?”

“The details aren’t important. But you should know there are forces at work there who are hell-bent on keeping us Andersons away.”

My irritation mounts. “God, Q, have you been brainwashed? Stop talking in fucking riddles. What is going on?”

Quincy hesitates. “I’m not sure exactly. I just know we’re not wanted.”

Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulls out a scrap of paper. I unfold it quickly, instantly recognizing the handwritten entry from that encyclopedia in the campus library four years back .

“It was a mistake going there,” she says softly.

“So it’s real? The students, the faculty… They really believe this curse bullshit?”

She nods.

“What does elimination even mean, exactly? Are you in danger?”

“As long as you and Noelle don’t step foot there again, no.”

Sighing, I collapse into my desk chair. None of this makes any goddamn sense, nor does it explain why she’s still attending or why she looks the way she does. “Lucy still wants to go.”

“Tell her not to.”

“I can’t fucking do that, Q. You spent the last several years talking about how much you loved the place. She thinks it’s a utopia.”

“Well, I was wrong. Can’t you explain that? She’ll do whatever you tell her to.”

That unsettles me. I spin around, facing the wall, and stare at the book spines hovering above my laptop. Even if I had that kind of power over Lucy, I wouldn’t want to use it.

What’s the point if she doesn’t have freedom? To choose and to be her own person?

Isn’t that what she was just begging me for?

Dropping my head into my hands, I ignore the persistence in my bones. The nagging desire to listen to Quincy and convince Lucy to stay here, where I know she’ll be safe.

“Give me something to offer her,” I tell my sister. “If there’s a concrete threat, then she should know?—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You can’t tell her about any of this.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll tell Aurora, who will tell Foxe, who will tell his parents. Then we’ll have thirty days before the school is shut down. If that.”

My eyebrows hike up. “It sounds like it should be shut down.”

“Shutting the place down would erase all I’ve been—it would leave a ton of students displaced, and ruin a decent institution being corrupted by a secret few. Totally dismantling it does no good. ”

I stare at her for several seconds, a frown firm on my lips. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

“Lucy would be okay if I weren’t there,” I note quietly. “Right? She’s not an Anderson. They’d have no reason to target her if I didn’t go too.”

Quincy’s eyes shimmer. “Well, I guess so, yeah. If she’s really dead set on attending, she’d probably be fine without you by her side. But is that something you’d be okay with?”

I don’t have much of a choice. Lucy’s mind is made up, and if I try to convince her not to go now, she’s going to assume I’m just being an asshole and making all this up to keep her from gaining any independence.

She doesn’t know how much her choices and freedom matter to me. It’s all I fucking care about, and this is the most important thing to her right now. Independence and getting away from the shadow of her reputation, her family, the inside of her own head.

Avernia would be okay for her without me.

That’s how I justify this betrayal, at least.