Chapter 157 The City of Glass and Stone
The forest is dangerous because of the hunger. The city is dangerous because of the masks.
The transition was a blur of train whistles and grey smoke. One day we were standing in the ruins of a burning house in the valley, and the next, we were staring at the skyline of New York. It was 1924, but the city felt like it was from another century. Tall buildings scraped the sky like silver teeth.
We were no longer the hunted outcasts. We were the guests of honor.
The Marlowe mansion on Fifth Avenue was a fortress of marble and velvet. It felt cold. Every corner had a camera not the bulky wooden ones I used, but small, silent eyes hidden in the crown molding.
"I don't like it here, Cass," Evan said.
He was standing by the tall window of our suite. He looked different in a tuxedo. The black wool and white silk made him look like a prince, but his eyes were haunted. Since he had given up his wolf spirit to save me, he looked tired. He looked fragile.
"It’s only for a few days," I said, walking over to him. I put my hand on his shoulder. I could feel him shiver. "We get the inheritance, we find out what the Board was hiding, and we leave."
"I can't hear the wind anymore," he whispered. He didn't look at me. He looked at the street below, where cars honked and people swarmed like ants. "It’s just noise now. It’s just static."
I pulled him close. My own blood was humming. The wolf inside me was restless. It hated the smell of gasoline and perfume. It wanted to howl at the electric lights.
"I’m still here," I said. "I’ll be your ears."
A soft knock came at the door. It was the man in the top hat. Mr. Vance.
"The Gala begins in an hour, Mrs. Thorne," Vance said. He didn't enter. He just stood in the doorway like a shadow. "The Investors are arriving. They are very curious to see the child."
"The child has a name," I said sharply. "Leo."
"Of course," Vance bowed. "But to them, he is the Dividend. I suggest you dress him in the gold silk. It matches his eyes."
Vance left, his footsteps echoing on the marble.
"The Dividend," Evan spat the word. "They talk about our son like he’s a sack of flour."
"Let them talk," I said, picking up Leo from his cradle.
The baby looked at me. His amber eyes were bright. He didn't cry in the city. He just watched everything with a quiet, ancient intelligence. He knew we were in a cage.
The ballroom was a sea of diamonds and black ties. The music was a jazz band, fast and frantic. It wasn't like the violin music from the valley. It had no soul. It was just a rhythm to mask the whispers.
As we walked down the grand staircase, the room went silent.
Hundreds of faces turned toward us. These weren't the Board’s scientists. These were the men and women who owned the world. Bank owners. Oil lords. Politicians.
"Smile, Cassia," Evan whispered. He gripped my hand. His palm was sweating. He was a human in a room full of predators.
A woman approached us. She wore a dress made of silver scales that shimmered like a snake’s skin. Her hair was a sharp blonde bob, and her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"So this is the miracle," she said. She didn't look at me. She looked at Leo. "He’s smaller than the reports suggested."
"Reports?" I asked.
"Oh, Henry was very thorough," the woman said. "I’m Lady Sterling. My family has been funding the Marlowe Project since the 1800s. We were beginning to think we’d never see a return on our investment."
"The project is over," I said. "My father is gone."
Lady Sterling laughed. It sounded like glass breaking. "The man is gone, dear. The project is just entering its second phase. We don't want to build wolves anymore. We want to live like them."
She leaned in close. Her breath smelled of gin and something metallic.
"The marrow," she whispered. "That’s what the Gala is for. We are here to bid on the first batch of the New King’s blood."
I felt the growl starting in the back of my throat. I wanted to bite her throat. I wanted to paint this white marble red.
"You aren't touching him," I said, my voice low and dangerous.
"Cassia, look," Evan said.
He was looking across the room. Near the champagne fountain, a man was standing alone. He was tall and had a shock of red hair. He looked familiar.
"Julian?" I whispered.
The lawyer. The one who had the mechanical eye. But he looked whole now. He looked healthy. He saw me and raised his glass. He wasn't afraid. He looked like he owned the place.
"He’s one of them," Evan said. "He’s an Investor."
"No," a new voice said behind us.
I turned. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen. She wore a simple white dress and had a small, silver birthmark on her shoulder—the same one I had seen in the locket.
"He’s not an Investor," the girl said. "He’s a decoy."
"Who are you?" I asked.
The girl looked at Leo. A look of pure, agonizing sadness crossed her face.
"I'm the one they didn't tell you about," she whispered. "I’m the third daughter. But I’m not the backup, Cassia. I’m the cage."
Before I could ask what she meant, the jazz band stopped.
The lights in the ballroom dimmed. A spotlight hit the center of the floor. Mr. Vance stood there, holding a silver tray. On the tray was a single, glowing syringe.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Vance announced. "The auction for the Blood of the Sun is now open. But before we begin, we have a surprise. A special guest has arrived to claim his share."
The heavy oak doors of the ballroom swung open.
A man walked in. He didn't wear a tuxedo. He wore a tattered wool coat. He was covered in mud and blood. He looked like he had crawled out of a grave.
It was Henry Marlowe.
But his eyes weren't blue or yellow. They were a flat, dead grey.
"Father?" I whispered.
He didn't look at me. He looked at the girl in the white dress.
"The girl is lying, Cassia," Henry said, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "She’s not your sister. She’s the Board’s new CEO."
The girl in the white dress smiled. It wasn't a girl’s smile. It was the smile of something that had lived for a thousand years.
"Hello, Father," the girl said. "I see the wolves didn't like the taste of you."
She turned to me, and her eyes turned a deep, burning red.
"Evan Thorne," she said. "Did you really think your mother was the only one who could make a deal with the Source?"
What deal did Evan’s mother make, and who is the girl in the white dress if she isn't my sister?