Iris~~

The occupants of the speeding limo consist of me, Bently, Colton, the driver, of course, and a heavily armored man in the seat next to him. He reminds me of a super hero for some reason. I can almost imagine the armor being a part of his skin, the gun an extension of his arm. Maybe he's a cyborg. Bently would find that funny. Colton, on the other hand, with his scowl and hard-set blue eyes, is too busy pouting to find the idea of there being a cyborg in the front seat protecting us, amusing.

I wonder what Colton would look like with a beard or even a mustache, one that's long, oily, and curls at the tips. I express this thought to Bently who snorts.

"If you considered that a whisper"—Colton turns his head to the window—"you're drunker than I thought." His eyes are on me in a split second, and I have to blink. "I assumed you of all people would take mass murder seriously."

"And I assumed that out of all people you wouldn't be so serious about it since you've probably committed it." I laugh. I know it's nothing to laugh about, but the idea is so dark that it makes me laugh. Bently laughs too.

Colton sits up straighter, his gaze flicking between the two of us. "I really can't believe you're both drunk."

"Maybe if you spent your time with us instead of rendezvousing with Vienna, we wouldn't have had to resort to drinking."

"I don't believe you could have any idea of what I've been doing considering the both of you are always locked up in your room."

I send up a prayer that Bently doesn't mention the hickey he saw on Colton.

We've long since exited the city and outside the windows is farmland. A barn full of bodies . . . I'll need another drink after this.

The road turns to sand and eventually the limo pulls into a farm where an impressive collection of black and white cars, some with sirens going off, are gathered. As we walk up to Mid'haa and the royal twins, it's a relief Bently and I don't stumble. The three of them are all dressed in suits and frowning. Colton should stick with them. He'd fit in with their clique.

"Beta, Digamma, Miss Levine. Thank you for coming." While she sums up what they know about the situation, Bently looks over at the barn—the barn that judging by it being the only one on the abandoned farm and the amount of people gathered around it is the one full of bodies.

"Thirty," Abella says answering a question of Colton's. "A month's worth of bodies."

"All of them Marked?" Colton asks.

Alix takes his sister's hand. "Yes."

"Let me fathom a guess." Bently final focuses on our group. "Each body has an Expiration Date that corresponds to a date over the past thirty days?"

"It is appearing so." Mid'haa presses a device in her ear. "Please excuse me," she says before cutting across the yard for the barn.

Abella removes her hand from Alix's and folds them in front of her. "Ms. Iman would like you to examine the barn and the bodies."

Like hell I'm stepping inside that horror movie. My life is already too close to shifting into the horror genre and going into that barn will seal the deal.

Colton gives a curt nod. "Very well then." He turns on his heel. "Iris. Digamma."

I stiffen. He can't really expect me to go in there. Most of these bodies will have been rotting for days. Some for almost a month.

"Colton—"

"Iris," he snaps. "Come along."

Fine. I square my shoulders and suck in a deep breath and trail after them.

As we approach the barn doors, two officers, one posted on each door, wheel them apart, and a smell so rotten as to make my eyes water hits us. The sight of the bodies, twisted and decaying, makes me gag.

An officer approaches us, holding three gas masks, a grimace on his face. "You may want these, your highnesses."

They help at least, and we pass under the threshold of the bar. All around us bodies lie on the ground and over hay bales, draped over rafters where the sunlight diverges around the wood, and hang from ropes. Bugs have already started in on them: making homes, eating, laying eggs, growing. I catch glimpses of Expiration Date. I try to look away, but everywhere I turn, a body is in front of me.

Bently shakes his head.

"Why did you make me come in here?" My eyes land on a child, and I have to swallow the bile in my mouth.

"I wanted the extra eyes."

A scratch on one of the rafters catches my attention. I run my finger over it, something about it familiar. My finger just misses a patch of dried blood. I finish tracing it, the feeling of familiarity growing. It's not a scratch. The design is too intricate. Someone purposely carved it. I look up at the wall of the barn where the doors are. Sunlight falls across it in streams but underneath the rays are more carvings. I back up to the other end of the barn, taking care not to bump into any bodies.

"Close the doors," I say.

"Are you serious?" Bently's voice rises at the end.

"Close them."

This time they do, and I stare at what's before me.

Not long ago my fingers had been tracing these same designs with pencils. My back hits the wooden wall as I step farther back to see better. Bently and Colton look my way while I squint at the far wall, pulling it into focus.

My blood runs cold.

Lines and curves stop and begin on the far wall only to pick up again on rafters in front of it. Even the bodies continue the design. From where I stand the puzzle is clear. One single word. In the Amorian alphabet. Not the Latin one.

Raggioet. Expired. But that could refer to a multitude of things. Not just me. I and the dead around me are the same. We're all Expired. Perhaps it's saying the Society's time has come to an end or even the world's. On second thought, maybe it's better if Raggioet refers to me.

Hay crunches as Bently and Colton walk over.

"What is it?" Colton asks.

"Raggioet."

They both stiffen and take in the Amorian laid out before us.

Colton's chest rises and falls. "I think it's time we leave."

I whip my mask the moment the doors are shut behind us. The sun beats down on me, too hot, too bright.

"Did you find anything?" Mid'haa asks.

"No," Bently says. "I'm sorry."

She holds out a piece of paper to him. "Does this mean anything to you? It was found in the barn earlier and none of my linguists can figure it out."

I peer over Bently's shoulder to see what's written. On the paper is Amorian like the kind in the barn, and while I can't read it perfectly, I can grasp the idea. In it the Amoris greets the Beta and Digamma and asks for them to either dispose of or give her qui Raggioet. The Expired.