Chapter 1010
Skye gasped. The woman she remembered had been impeccable—hair sprayed into a helmet of perfection, diamonds on every finger. This woman was a husk. Her hair was thin and white, hanging in wisps. She wore a silk nightgown that swallowed her skeletal frame. She was clutching a dirty, ragged stuffed rabbit. She looked as though she had aged twenty years in a single week.
Bastian walked in behind her. His demeanor had changed completely. The shark was gone; in his place was a doting, almost pathetic husband.
“Look, Bea,” Bastian cooed, kneeling beside the wheelchair. He took her frail hand and kissed it. “We have a visitor. Do you remember Skye?”
Beatrice’s head lolled. Her eyes were milky and unfocused. She drooled slightly. Bastian wiped it away with a tender thumb.
“She’s the Oracle, my love,” Bastian whispered. “She has the key. She’s going to make you well again.”
At the word “Oracle,” Beatrice stiffened. Her eyes snapped to Skye. For a moment the fog cleared, and there was recognition there—but it wasn’t the recognition of a mother-in-law. It was terror.
She let out a low, keening sound. Her hand clawed at Bastian’s arm, her nails digging deep.
“No,” Beatrice moaned, her voice a dry rattle. “No blood… not the girl.”
Bastian frowned. “It’s okay, Bea. It’s Skye.”
𝖱оm𝖺𝗇𝘤e ո𝘰v𝘦𝗹s 𝗈𝘯 𝗴𝗮𝗹ոo𝘃𝗲𝘭𝗌.𝘤о𝗆
“Elena!” Beatrice shrieked suddenly, pointing a shaking finger at Skye. “The fire! You promised!”
Skye’s heart hammered against her ribs. Elena. The name from the Administrator’s journals. The woman he loved. The woman who died.
“She thinks you’re the first one,” Liam whispered, rising to his feet. “The woman from the portrait in the vault.”
“I told you no fire!” Beatrice was hyperventilating now, thrashing in the chair. “The baby… burning… it’s all burning!”
Bastian stood, his face hardening. “She’s agitated. Nurse, the sedative.”
“Wait,” Skye said, sitting up despite the pain. “What fire, Beatrice? What did you do?”
Beatrice looked at her, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. “Karma,” she whispered. “It’s karma. She’s come back for the debt.”
The nurse injected something into Beatrice’s arm. Her thrashing slowed. Her eyes rolled back. She slumped against the chair, the rabbit falling from her lap.
Bastian looked at Skye. The tenderness was gone. The monster was back.
“See?” Bastian said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “She is suffering. Because of you. Because you destroyed the cure.”
“She’s suffering because of guilt,” Skye said, her mind racing. “What did she mean about Elena and the fire? Did she know about the first Oracle?”
“That doesn’t concern you,” Bastian snapped. He signaled the nurse to wheel Beatrice out, then stopped at the door.
“Tomorrow, we start the extraction. If you don’t give me the formula, I’ll drain your spinal fluid. Maybe the secret is in the marrow.”
He slammed the door.
Skye looked at Liam. He was pale, staring at the spot where his mother had been.
“She knows,” Skye whispered. “Liam, your mother knows about the fire that killed Elena. The one the Administrator loved.”
“She was hallucinating,” Liam said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“No,” Skye said. “That wasn’t madness. That was a confession.”
Morning came with the sound of boots on the floorboards. Two guards entered, weapons drawn.
“Get up,” one barked.
Liam rose from his chair, blocking their path to Skye. “She can’t walk. She needs a wheelchair.”
.
.