Page 123 of The Curse Trilogy

Brazen grabs one as they walk by, and he sips on it to heal his remaining aches. I continue supporting my full blood as Hale opens the back door to the car.

“Let’s get the hell out of Selma,” Brazen huffs as he plops down, and Hale laughs a little as he opens the door for me.

“You good with that?” he asks softly.

“More than good,” I mumble, and then Clay runs over to halt our spontaneous plan of retreat.

“I have one still alive, and I need Araya to interrogate him.”

“Yeah. Definitely,” I quickly offer, and I see them feeding blood into the mouth of a man trying to intentionally spew it out.

“I’ll die before I talk, hybrid scum,” he protests, and Hale ushers me into the car to head back to Selma.

“I don’t know how he survived that,” I murmur as we pass through the gates.

“I don’t know why they attacked here. Selma is a large compound with several military units at their disposal at all times. It’s stupid to infect so many just outside the gates,” Brazen adds while slowly sipping on the blood pack.

“They’ve been so fucking clever up until now. They’ve never even made a mass attack. They’ve used stealth, precision, and calculated smaller attacks,” I murmur aloud.

“We won’t have answers in here. Be careful with this one. He’s resilient to have survived such a blast,” Hale murmurs, concern etching his voice before kissing the back of my hand.

“I’m always careful. I should be able to go invincible again in about five minutes or so. I always turn it on when I’m in the box with hybrids or full bloods.”

“Good.“

We start walking into the building as my breath very slowly begins rattling - a sinking feeling tugging at my gut.”

“Is something wrong?” Hale whispers as we step behind the glass.

“Something’s off.”

I stare at the snarling man they’ve already anchored to the steel chair. His dark hair, pale eyes, and lean body do well to mask the monster lurking inside. The cold walls behind him beg me to start the show they always love to see. The chains rattle and threaten to slice his hands off at the wrist when he surges too violently. My breath comes in sharply, and I shake off the nerves I’m not used to having.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been waiting on this moment for months.

Very warily, I step out from behind the safety side of the glass and move into the room that forces secrets to be expelled.

“Hybrid bitch,” he snarls out as the foaming spit forms across his lips.

Gee, haven’t heard that before.

I smirk as I shut the door, and I drop the enormous file I have on the Rising onto the table in front of him - all my hard work slightly spilling out to give him a peek. His eyes barely pay it any attention, disinterest rocking over his brow, and he jerks his head away to avoid looking at me. I turn my back on him to stare into the glass that mimics a mirror full of hidden expectant faces chewing their nails, tapping their feet, or shifting from side to side as they impatiently await results on the other side.

“So many of your kind have sat on that side of the table and discussed their loathsome distaste for me. Then they poured out their hearts, their worries, and their secrets before leaving,” I murmur while turning around slowly to face him.

“I have no secrets left to tell,” he almost whimpers, and then his jaw clenches as he regains his composure.

A sniveling Rising member? Since when?

“Why attack so close to somewhere you knew you’d be apprehended with ease?” I say with the intentions of insulting him.

“We didn’t mean to,” he almost whispers, his eyes casting shadows on the floor - a hint of pain trapped in the undertones of his words.

I’m bemused, curious, and a little taken aback by his vague answer.

“How is it possible you didn’t mean to attack?” I almost laugh out, even though I’m actually somewhat worried about what his answer could possibly be.

“You wouldn’t understand, you fucking piece of shit. Your kind think you’re so much better,” he growls, and then he cuts his eyes away from me again.