Chapter 8: The Voice In Her Head

"Everyone back. Now." Nobody argues with a voice that has held a dying man's ribs open on a mountain. Nell's pulse was already skidding. Two minutes, maybe three. "Someone call—" "It's too late for an ambulance!" a woman shrieked. "She had one sip!" "It's Night Ash," I said, and the word went through the ballroom like a blade. Old wolves stopped moving. Someone dropped a glass. "Night Ash spreads the second it hits blood," said the Hale matriarch, gone grey. "There's no antidote. There's...