This Monstrous Thing by Mackenzi Lee Page B

go taut. I looked up from my feet just in time to see the girl hoistherself up over the edge and disappear from view. I followed, less gracefully. My limbs had gone shaky during our balancing act, and it took three tries before I managed to haul myself back onto solid ground. When I finally got sorted, I realized we were near the base of the foothills, surrounded by the bare vineyards that climbed up from the lakeshore. Behind us, I could see the city walls, Geneva’s slate rooftops peeking out above it. We were out.
    The girl only gave me a moment to catch my breath before she started off again, down along a footpath cutting through the vineyard, and I followed, my feet sliding on the frozen mud.
    There were no industrial torches outside the city, and the only light came from the moon and a smattering of starlight spread like salt across the sky. I looked out, down the hill and across the smooth top of the lake, then up to the pinpricks of firelight that dotted the hillside from cottage windows. I thought of Château de Sang, black windows somewhere against the black sky, and I stopped.
    Oliver.
    It was like waking from a dream. I had been so panicked about getting out of the city I hadn’t even thought about what I was leaving behind, and it all caught up with me as suddenly as if someone had grabbed me by the throat. “I can’t go with you,” I said, louder than I meant to.
    The girl stopped too and turned. “What?”
    “I can’t leave,” I repeated, but the words rang empty. This city had caged me for so long, and here I was on its edge, past the checkpoints and close to free, but I couldn’t leave Oliver alone. His death was my fault, and now his life was too.
    The girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t got time for this. We need to go.”
    “I can’t.”
    “What does that mean, you can’t?”
    “I just can’t!” I said again. “There’s someone who needs me here. So thank you for helping me get out but I can’t . . . I can’t go to Geisler.” I turned and started in the opposite direction, back into the foothills and toward Château de Sang, but her hand clamped down on my elbow and jerked me back around to face her. She was stronger than she looked.
    “Where are you planning on going?” she demanded.
    “I’ve got somewhere.”
    “Well, you can’t go back to Geneva, not with the whole police force looking for you. Your only choice is to run, and I can help you. Geisler can help you.” I tried to pull my sleeve out of her grip, but she clung on tighter. “I’ll knock you over the head if I have to but I can’t go back to Ingolstadt without you.”
    I yanked my arm free and took a few steps back. She looked too scrappy to throw a good punch, but I didn’t think that would stop her from trying. For a moment we glared ateach other, the silence interrupted by the bare grapevines clattering against their trellises as the wind rocked them.
    I took a deep breath. I could to go to Ornex. I should go to Ornex—that had always been the plan, and if Mum had gotten out, she would be there. Morand himself had said to come if I needed somewhere safe. But there would be nowhere to hide Oliver there. I hadn’t left him on his own for more than a few days since his resurrection. If I didn’t show up, perhaps he’d figure we’d been run out of the city, though knowing Oliver and his flair for the dramatic, he’d probably assume I had abandoned him by choice.
    But if I stayed with Oliver, there wasn’t a thing I could do for him. I had no money to go on the run, nowhere to go if we did. We’d sit together in that castle and starve slowly, if we didn’t murder each other first.
    And it was Geisler calling me. Geisler in Ingolstadt. This wasn’t the way I had wanted it to happen, but here it was being handed to me. Wanting it felt sharp and glittering, like broken glass under my skin, but, bleeding hell, did I want it. I wanted to go to Ingolstadt. And I needed someone who could help me