Mechanical Hearts (Skeleton Key) by Nicole Blanchard, Skeleton Key Page B

didn’t move back or move from where he’d planted himself in front of me. He hovered there like a human shield even though the gun was pointed right at him. “You’re welcome to use that on me, if you think that’s enough to stop me,” he said.
    The thought of Ezra lying limp on the ground, his face leeched white of blood, snapped me out of the fog. I crossed the distance between us and tried to move around him, but his arm shot out and blocked me, and I was no match for his strength. I’d only known him as a protector, but it suddenly hit me how devastating an arm that strong could be.
    Fletcher addressed me over Ezra’s shoulder. “What was it you said to him just now? About the moon?”
    “You don’t have to talk to him,” Ezra growled. “Let’s go now. I’ll find somewhere to keep you safe.”
    “Who will keep me safe from you?” I returned. The words hit him like a physical blow and he nearly staggered. I laid a hand on his arm and said around him to Fletcher, “What does it concern you?”
    Fletcher’s hand jerked on the gun and ice coated my stomach. As much as I wanted to maim Ezra, I didn’t want to watch him die.
    “I said you don’t have to talk to him,” Ezra repeated.
    Fletcher took a step forward and Ezra’s whole body vibrated. I could feel the tension in his arm.
    “I don’t have time for games, Castle,” Fletcher spit.
    Despite the restrained violence pulsing just underneath the surface, Ezra’s response was calm. “Then stop playing them, Fletcher.”
    “Just tell me what she said.” I couldn’t be sure, but Fletcher’s voice sounded almost desperate.
    A steady throb had begun to go behind my eyes, and I started to feel the tenuous grasp I had on the hope that I’d go home slip away.
    To Fletcher, I said, “It’s something I’ve always said to my cousin, Phoebe. I was telling Ezra to find a way to tell her that I love her to the moon and back if I can’t find my way home. It’s something my aunt said my parents used to tell me.”
    If I was going to die, I’d do it without lies and with the knowledge that I’d done everything I could to make sure Phoebe knew I loved her.
    “Who are you?” Fletcher demanded. A vein began to throb in his forehead, and his cheeks flushed a ruddy red.
    My brows furrowed, and I struggled to come up with a coherent thought. “Does this have something to do with you brought Ezra here to kill me?” I asked.
    “Kill you?” Fletcher said. “Why would I want to kill you?”
    “Don’t play dumb, Fletcher.” I didn’t even have to dig deep to find the scorn that layered my response. Anger had been bubbling just beneath my skin, waiting to let loose.
    “What is she talking about?” Fletcher asked Ezra.
    It physically hurt to look at the man I’d only kissed a short twenty-four hours before. How could that man, the one who held me so lovingly, who said such sweet things to me, be the same one who brought me to my death? Once a pirate, always a pirate, I guess.
    The expression on Ezra’s face was unreadable, as always, but the grip he had on my arm with his mechanical hand was perfectly clear—I wasn’t going anywhere.
    “The sextant you gave us,” Ezra began.
    “What about it?” Fletcher interrupted.
    Ezra’s hand tightened painfully on my arm. “It pointed to her.”
    I gave a little sarcastic wave. “Yoo-hoo!”
    “There’s no— That’s not—” he stammered.
    “Possible?” came a feminine voice from behind us. A voice I recognized with every fiber of my being.
    “Aunt Millie?” I gasped. But it wasn’t the sight of my aunt that stole my breath and took the strength from my knees, it was the person she yanked along behind her. The “Phoebe,” I whispered was practically inaudible.
    “Millicent?” Fletcher said, only deepening my confusion.
    “You’re supposed to be in school,” was the first thing that came to my mind and slipped past my lips automatically.
    But Phoebe was too afraid to answer and I