Page 98 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

S O R E N

“What do you mean, Anya’s missing?” Bones snaps, his voice sharp with disbelief. His thoughts immediately flood to Kathleen, the image of a blonde woman saturating his mind.He’s worried she’s in danger.

“You’re not worried about Jane?” I ask, briefly narrowing my gaze on the surrounding environment before focusing entirely on him.

He tuts, looking around the chaotic space. Dogs weave between broken branches and muddy footprints, noses to the ground, hunting for a trail neither Basilisk nor I can follow, seeing as the jungle nearly suffocates us. “I mean, sure,” Bones mutters, his tone dismissive, but his aura betrays that with clear unease. “But it sounds like they can’t kill her right away.Anyais dead weight to them,” he remarks, genuine concern in his heart, his mismatched eyes meeting mine. “You said Cypress visited Jane? I bet that witch gave her a leg up, and Jane is crafty. It’s not like we aren’t going to go after her, either.”

I don’t reply. My mind and body are pulled in too many directions. Sure, he has a point. Jane isn’t most people; I know that. And yet the thought of her suffering, of her enduring horrors I can’t protect her from, drives a cold blade into my gut. When I get her back—not if, when—she might be a mess of scars.I can heal her. I will heal her.

I do hear Bones, too. Anya is at a massive risk of being murdered.

“How did this happen?” Bones asks, nodding to the shanty where a few of Tempest’s men stand.

“While you were surveying the space, I was with the others when suddenly everything about Jane wentsilent. There was only one set of footprints, so she willingly went into the jungle. She left a note,” I say, pausing when I remember how she signed it. “Said she heard sirens singing. She seemed to know it meant Misery. And that Cypress gave her a task.”

“That batty old bitch just can’t stop meddling.”

“Shehasto be using Jane. The letter mentioned that if Jane told any of us about it, it would possibly get us killed. That soundsconvenient.”

“Jane’s smarter than that.”

“I know, which means I think Cypress didn’t give her a choice. I think Cypress forced Jane’s hand, and is going to useher like she fucking uses the rest of us.” It doesn’t matter what Basilisk said, the way I feel so much guilt for not forcing it out of Jane is nearly every other thought in my mind. I didn’t protect her from Cypress.

I don’t care if they’re supposed to be related.

It’sjustlike my sister; if I had demanded to know what lured her away…

“Can’t believe the God of Misery is your deity,” Bones comments, like it’s an intrusive thought he couldn’t control. His laugh falters when he realizes I find none of that humorous.

Basilisk, who leans on a building right next to us, clears his throat. “It’s because, in the old days, he used people likeusto figure out what made someone miserable, and we’d be in charge of ensuring they were tortured in ways that fed him most. People’s misery is what fuels him.”

I snap my gaze toward him, the implications of his words like cold water over a fire. “When did you learn that?”

“Across the Black Sea. There’s Sensors that actually worship him. They’re idiots though—he wants to off our kind. We’re a threat, now that he’s in his physical form. Our powers are essentially wide open to changing however the fuck they want to. He’s an old, useless god, so not many know of him, at least outside of the sagas of his previous reigns. I had to search deep for those truths.”

There isn’t even a point to let Basilisk get to me right now, tensing at that revelation. Is that why Cypress’s rubies affected me so greatly?

Ritter’s arrival disrupts my spiraling thoughts. His energy is an absolute mess inside of him, his glare smoldering with unconfined fury. He’s fresh from the jungle, his clothes streaked with dirt and sweat, and the murderous look in his eyes is a storm in of itself…

He returned right when the hounds showed up and disappeared into the jungle once more to help search for Jane, while I uselessly stand here, trying to deconstruct it all, piece by piece.

“Enjoying standing there?” he asks, everything about him pure venom, his words aiming to wound.

I meet his glare, holding my ground. “What’s your point, Ritter?”

“Itrustedyou.Janetrusted you,” he snarls, closing the distance between us in two strides. “You couldn’t tell my daughter had that planned?” He’s so close now I can see the dark circles under his eyes. “You forgot toreadthat?”

Now I just want to piss him off in return; the accusations slicing deep at an already open wound. I lean into my next words, my tone deliberately calm and taunting. “No,” I say, shrugging slightly. “She told me Cypress visited her, actually. Inyourtunnels. Without any of us knowing.You’rethe one that brought that witch into this.”

Ritter’s eyes flare wide, then narrow to slits. His hands twitch at his sides, like he might actually try to strike me.

“We don’t have a healer, now,” I add coldly. “So think twice before stabbing me.”

“You say that like you don’t even give a shit,” he hisses.

I get so close to his face that I can smell the jungle on him. “We are waiting on Tempest, and once we have a plan, you’ll see how much of a shit I give when anyoneassociatedwith her disappearance is going tosuffer.”

Deathly cold eyes don’t seem entirely convinced, but I can feel he doesn’t quite know what to do, either. His energy is all over, scattered by a father’s fear for his child?—