Fifty-Three
Penelope Peters
There was a man standing over me. He was tall, with slicked back brown hair, and deep, chocolate brown eyes. There was something familiar about him. “I’m the bastard,” he told me, “Orion Spires. Apollo’s brother. The rightful king of Coleum. Or at least, I will be once I’m able to make a play for the crown.”
I was in a dark room. At least, I thought it was a room. I couldn’t be sure. There was brick, and somewhere, water was trickling down from something. “What do you want with me?”
He smiled. “I want to make you a deal.”
“A deal? Do you think that kidnapping girls is a good way to start?”
“I want you to collect secrets for me,” said Orion, “and if you do that, I can give you your mother back.”
I stared at him. Crowe had hinted at her being alive to
