Page 119 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

“IknowJesper.” She looks at me like killing memightbe worth it. Her eyes widen like that should terrify me, and shewants to see the power of having my fear. “Just know what he wants from you is Misery’s fascination. Notyou.Even if you smell like evergreens.”

“I’ll keep thatfreshin mind.” Gods I fucking hate these people. She should know the only thing I want with his dick is to cut it off and shove it up his own ass.

There’ssomuch I want to say, but I swallow it all.The sirens. Anya.“Well, let me know when we can leave.”

She frowns, like she’s frustrated I don’t fear her. “He will come get you,” she spits out, turning on her heels to leave the room.

I stand there, my hair braided, and stare at the glass vial on the floor. I’m absolutelynotputting that on. But I do undress from this rather simple, brown garb and slide on knickers and a thin, red, long-sleeve cotton dress, a belt at the waist to give it definition.

There are even sandals that wrap around my ankle for me to wear. I try to see it more as a warrior’s outfit, like the dress I’m wearing to the liberation of others. I’m rubbing my eyes when I hear someone come through the door again.

Jesper.

I hate how demented this man is. Sure, my father and Soren might be killers, but they’re not sadistic. They don’t hurt others because it brings them joy to watch someone suffer who didn’t deserve it. Shit, even Bones wouldn’t threaten an innocent person withrape, and he’s crazy.

“I don’t think she likes me,” I comment with a half-chuckle.“Marissa.”

I’m so fucking ready to learn about Jesper’s weakness. To see the piano room. Then, to knock him out and claim he passed out, but not before I get aperfectlayout of the room. Of the balcony.

“She’s a lady’s maid. Too below me,” he comments, as if that condensation would impress me, like I’d realize I’m being approached by someoneimportant.

I just look away, not knowing what to say, trying to avoid howgrossI feel.

“Let’s go, Jane,” he says, my spine nearly shivering at how wrong it is to hear my name in his mouth. Jesper sticks a slim arm out as if gesturing to go first, to which I do, relieved to see the endless sea of steps before me, eager for this bit of freedom.

I start descending when he nods for me to, and it seems like we’re alone. For now.

“Did you ask for that implant to be placed in your skin?” Jesper asks.His fingers graze the back of my neck—I willnotsurvive him beyond a few more weeks with how much I hate his touch. “It looks healed.”

“I healed it because she forced it into my skin, and if it comes out, it will kill me. I figured it was best to heal rather than die a stupid death,” I reply, touching the chilled stone of the walls.

“Morvock seemed more amused than angry. Like it’s a residual mark of the witch. One last, failed attempt to overpower him. It will not matter in the long run.”

My mind races freely with the gift Cypress gave me—no fear of my heart being invaded. “Where is Morvock when he’s here?”

“Why do you ask?” he asks with a tight tone.

“He’s agod,and you just mentioned him,” I quip. He seems to trust me more with my sass involved.

“Inhiswing. He has to rest.” The tone is still tight, and I get the sensation he doesn’t want to talk about Morvock.

No, probably just wants to talk about himself.

As I see the end of the stairwell, I think of his answer—does that mean he’s not watching me right now? Does Misery feelsafe?

Ihaveto make tonight count to its fullest.

Jesper takes the lead as we walk the same path as before: broad halls, lots of windows, tall ceilings, passing bymanydoors, fire light casting an orange hue all over.

After traversing a great hall, we bank to the left where the ocean is in clear view through the windows, even if only faintly visible with the moon, and then I see the large double doors, wide open.

Candlelight burns so bright inside; I can almost see why Marissa would be angry. It’s as if he’s officially courting me tonight. Planned everything out.

The only thing that carries me with confidence is knowing how, very shortly, I’m going to havetruefreedom… even attempt to make it down below.

Tonight.

Soren would tell me to strike when they don’t suspect it, like I had done with him—I choke that thought off. I can’t think of him, my dad, or Kathleen right now. I haveonemission, and I breatheonlyfor that—the sirens must be freed before anything else matters again.