Thirteen Mercies, Three Kills by Liv Olteano

Author:Liv Olteano [Olteano, Liv]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult
ISBN: 978-1-63533-419-7
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-06-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

THE DAY finally ended and we retired to our rooms. I changed into my nightgown, got the hair rollers in my hair for the first time ever, dived under the covers, and quickly fell asleep. Moments later, though, my eyes shot back open. My head hurt as the hair rollers dug viciously into my scalp, regardless of how hard I tried to not lean on them. How could one sleep without leaning their head on pillows? I had to practice the art of sleeping in a sitting position. That or I’d soon throw the hair rollers into the lively fireplace.

I sat up, overcome with thirst. The pitcher of water sat on the vanity, beckoning. Nikola’s home was unnaturally chilly. I couldn’t sleep without a fire started, yet it made me horribly thirsty and dried up the air in the room without actually making it feel warm. Darkwillow seemed determined to impress its reign upon me, thriving on the discomfort it produced. Ghosts particularly enjoyed it, probably for that reason. It felt like we were all tolerated by the house, not at all as if Nikola mastered it. But then again, she didn’t seem the mastering type. I liked that, to be honest. Senator Herveux was the mastering type. I cringed.

With that sour thought, I poured myself a glass of water, looked up, and froze in place. A shape materialized out of thin air right there in front of me—a woman with long wavy hair that moved as if alive, her lips sewn shut, and her eyes wild. She slapped the glass out of my hand. It shattered against the floor but my daze did not break. The water pitcher floated toward the fireplace, drips falling out of it. It shattered into bits under her crazed stare.

My whole body throbbed. I wheezed air in and out of my lungs. When she reached for me, I propelled my feet into action. The smoky body followed as I dashed down the stairs, frantic to ask for help, but from whom, I had no idea. The golems? Nikola? Where was she? Light, I needed to find some light. Ghosts shied away from it. This one didn’t seem the shy type. I studiously ignored whose ghost she seemed to be. She kept following in my trail, gathered others in her wake. I was running barefoot in my nightgown, hair rollers jumping on my head as a posse of ghosts loomed behind.

I couldn’t scream. I was too terrified to scream. After running around like a madwoman in the hallways, I bolted back up the stairs. I closed my eyes and ran with a heaving chest and a giant cloud of dread and horror on my trail. My mother. There was no doubt about it—her hair, the beautiful eyes, though she looked frantic now…. The ghost who attacked me in my room was my mother’s.

I threw myself past the doors, ran into my room, and quickly locked myself inside it. The wood felt cold and slick under my sweaty forehead.

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