L. J. Smith - Forbidden Game 03 by The Kill

Author:The Kill [Kill, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-03T18:19:32+00:00

Dee fainting was so outrageous-so frightening-she couldn’t cope with it. Dee was never that scared.

Only maybe she was, especially when confronted with things that physical courage couldn’t do anything about. The stuff around them here was history -and who could change that?

“I’m gonna join Amnesty International if I ever get out of here,” Dee muttered. “I swear, I swear.”

“Mother and I already belong,” Audrey said.

Mrs. Myers? thought Jenny, and Dee said, “Your mom?” Audrey’s mother was a society matron, good at making finger sandwiches and arranging charity fashion shows. She and Dee didn’t get along.

“Maybe all that organization is good for something after all,” Dee murmured.

Jenny still had a very bad feeling about the place. She wanted to hurry through it, to not see as much as possible.

And they couldn’t. They had to check every figure, staring into faces the color of peach crayons, with teeth that were a little too shiny in the spotlights. The skin of the wax figures had an unreal inner glow, as if the outer layers were translucent and the color buried somewhere inside.

But none of the glassy eyes looked like Summer’s. And nothing moved, although Jenny was in constant dread that an eyelid would flicker or a chest would rise.

If they start coming to life, I’ll go crazy, she thought almost with detachment. Just screaming, staring crazy. It would be a relief to go crazy at this point.

“Jenny-” Michael’s voice was choked.

Jenny turned.

“Blue,” Michael said, and Jenny saw what he meant.

It was on a table. Above it, suspended by a rusty chain, was a huge wooden disk with bloody iron spikes. It was a little pool of china blue precisely the color of Summer’s shirtdress.

Something was inside the dress.

Funny that Jenny could remember that outfit so exactly. Summer had appeared on the doorstep wearing it the night of Tom’s birthday party, looking fresh, sweet, and completely inappropriate, since it was freezing outside.

Now it was lying on a table, encasing a body. Although the figure’s face was turned away from Jenny, she could glimpse sandaled feet curled up at one end and soft light curls at the other.

Jenny stood frozen.

It had happened too suddenly; she wasn’t prepared. She’d seen that dying in the Shadow World didn’t mean you got buried and disappeared. She’d known they were looking for Summer, however transformed, however defiled Summer might be.

Ever since Michael’s dream she’d allowed herself thoughts that Summer might not be lost completely.

But now that she was face to face with the possibility, she couldn’t cope with it. She didn’t want to go and look, didn’t want to know. She glanced at the others, saw them standing paralyzed, too.

You have to look. You can take it. It’s probably just a normal wax figure with nobody inside. And that’s not blood on those spikes, it’s red paint.

She knew this was comnletelv irrational. She knew

very well that it probably wasn’t just a normal wax figure, and that there was no reason for the blood on the spikes to be anything but blood.

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