Copyright?2022byCarissaBroadbent
CoverArtbyKDRitchieatStorywrappersDesign.
Under-jackethardcoverdesignbyNathanMedeiros.
InteriorDesignbyCarissaBroadbent.
EditingbyNoahSky:noahcsky@gmail.com
ProofreadingbyAnthonyHolabird:holabirdediting.com
ProofreadingbyRachelTheus-Cass.
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreview.Author’snote:
Thisbookcontainssubjectmatterthatmightbedifficultforsomereaders,includingviolence,torture(offpage),flashbackofrape(consentwithdrawn),self-harm,emotionalabuse,slavery,andreferencestosexualabuse.CONTENTS
Prologue
I.Dusk
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
II.FullMoon
Interlude
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
III.WaningMoon
Interlude
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
IV.HalfMoon
Interlude
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
V.CrescentMoon
Interlude
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
Chapter37
Chapter38
Chapter39
Chapter40
Chapter41
VI.NewMoon
Interlude
Chapter42
Chapter43
Chapter44
Chapter45
Chapter46
Chapter47
Chapter48
Chapter49
Chapter50
Chapter51
Chapter52
VII.Night
Chapter53
Chapter54
Chapter55
Chapter56
Author’sNote
AlsobyCarissaBroadbent
GlossaryofTerms
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthorPROLOGUE
Thekingdidnotknowthenthathisgreatestlovewouldalsobehisruination—northateitherwouldcomeintheformofatiny,helplesshumanchild.
Shewasaloneflutteroflifeinanendlessexpanseofdecay,theonlylivingmortalforahundredmiles.Thechildwasperhapsfour,perhapseight—itwashardtotell,becauseshewasso,sosmall,evenbyhumanstandards.Justafraillittlecreaturewithslickblackhairthatcurtainedwidegrayeyes.
Somewhere,buriedbeneathcharredbeamsandcrumbledstone,thegirl’sfamilylikelylaycrushedbeyondrecognition.Orperhapstheirravagedbodieshadbeenleftoutinthenight,takenbypredatorsjustliketheonesthatstalkedthechildnow,lookingdownatherwiththeinterestthatahawkaffordedarabbit.
Thehumans,ofcourse,werenothingmorethanthatinthisworld—prey,pests,oroftenboth.
Thethreewingedmenlandedbeforeher,smilingattheirluck.Immediately,thelittlegirlstruggledagainstthedebristhatpinnedher.Sherecognizedwhattheywere—recognizedtheirpointedteethandblack,featherlesswings,andperhapssheevenrecognizedtheuniformstheywore,thedeeppurpleoftheHiajNightbornKing.Perhapsthemenwhohadburnedherhomehadwornuniformsjustlikethese.
Butshecouldnotrun.Herclothingwastornandhopelesslytangledintheruinsaroundher.Shewastoosmalltoshiftthestones.
“Lookatthis.Alittlelamb.”Themenapproached.Asoneofthemreachedoutforher,shesnarledathim,catchinghisfingertipsbetweensmall,bluntteeth.
Thesoldierhissedandyankedhishandaway,whilehiscompanionslaughed.
“Alamb?Morelikeaviper.”
“Oragardensnake,”anotherscoffed.
Thebittensoldierrubbedhishand,wipingawayafewdropletsofcrimson-black.Hestartedforthechild.“Doesn’tmatter,”hegrumbled.“Theytastethesame.AndIdon’tknowaboutyoubastards,butI’mhungryaftersuchalongnight.”
Butthenashadowfelloverthemall.
Themenstilled.Theyloweredheadsinreverentbows.Thecoolairshivered,thedarknesstwistingaroundtheirfacesandwingslikeabladecaressingathroat.
TheHiajkingdidnotutterasingleword.Hedidnotneedto.Themomenthemadehispresenceknown,allofhiswarriorsfellintosilence.
Hewasnotthephysicallystrongestvampire.Hewasnotthefiercestwarriornorthewisestsage.ButtheysaidhewasblessedbythegoddessNyaxiaherself,andanyonewhohadevermethimwouldswearittobetrue.Powerseepedfromhiseverypore,anddeathstainedhiseverybreath.
Hissoldierssaidnothingashesteppedoverthewreckageofthelittlehome.
“TheRishanhavebeeneradicatedfromthearea,”oneofthemchanced,afterseverallongmoments.“Therestofourmenhavetravelednorthand—”
Thekingliftedhishand,andthewarriorwentquiet.
Hekneeleddownbeforethelittlegirl,whogloweredathim.Soyoung,hethought.Herlife,amerehandfulofyears,wasnothingcomparedtohiscenturiesofexistence.Andyet,shedrewuponsuchintensehatredassheglaredathim,hereyesasbrightandsilverasthemoon.
“Shewasfoundhere?”thekingasked.
“Yes,sire.”
“Isshethereasonforthebloodonyourhand?”
Awaveofpoorlysuppressedsnickersfromtheothersoldiers.
“Yes,sire.”Theanswerwasslightlybashful.
Theythoughthewasmockingthem.No.Thishadnothingtodowiththem.
Hereachedforthegirl,andshesnappedathim.Heletherbite—didnotmovehishand,evenasherteeth,tinyastheywere,sankdeepintohisbonyindexfinger.
Shelookedhimstraightintheeye,unblinking,andhereturnedthatstarewithmountinginterest.
Thiswasnotthestareofapanickedchildwhodidn’tknowwhatshewasdoing.
Thiswasthestareofacreaturewhounderstoodshewasconfrontingdeathitself,andstillchosetospitinitsface.
“Alittleserpent,”hemurmured.
Themenbehindhimlaughed.Heignoredthem.Itwasnotajoke.
“Areyouallalone?”hesaidsoftly.
Thegirldidnotanswer.Shecouldnotspeakwithherteethclampedaroundhisflesh.
“Ifyoureleaseme,”hesaid,“Iwillnothurtyou.”
Thegirldidnosuchthing,stillglaringathimasblackblooddribbleddownherchin.
Thecorneroftheking’slipscurled.“Good.Youshouldnottrustme.”
Hepriedhisfingerfree,thencarefullyextractedthegirlfromthewreckageasshethrashed.Eveninthethroesofherviolentresistance,shewasutterlysilent.Anditwasonlyoncehepickedherup—Goddess,shewassolight,hecouldhaveheldherwithasinglehand—thatherealizedhowinjuredshewas,hertornclothingsoakedwithblood.Thesweetscentofitpermeatedhisnostrilsashetuckedheragainsthischest.Sheteeteredontheprecipiceofunconsciousness,butsheresistedit,herentirebodytense.
“Rest,littleserpent.Noharmwillcometoyou.”
Hestrokedhercheek,andshetriedtobiteagain,butasparkofmagictrailedhisfingertips.Withthatwhisperofnightcameadreamlesssleeptooheavyforeventhisviciouslittlethingtofight.
“Whatdoyouwantustodowithher?”oneofthesoldiersasked.
Thekingstrodepastthem.“Nothing.Iwilltakeher.”
Abeatofsilence.Thoughhecouldnotseethem,thekingknewtheywereexchangingconfusedglances.
“Where?”oneasked,atlast.
“Home,”thekingreplied.
Thechildslept,onehandclenchedtightaroundthesilkfabricoftheking’sshirt—fightingstill,inthissmallway,eveninsleep.
Home.Hewouldtakeherhome.
BecausethekingoftheHiajvampires—conqueroroftheHouseofNight,blessedoftheGoddessNyaxia,andoneofthemostpowerfulmentohavewalkedthisrealmorthenext—sawafragmentofhimselfinthischild.Andthere,rightbeneaththeclenchedfistofherpalm,somethingwarmandbittersweetstirredinhischestatthesightofher.Somethingmoredangerousthanhunger.
Hundredsofyearslater,historiansandscholarswouldlookbackuponthismoment.Thisdecisionthat,oneday,wouldtoppleanempire.
Whatastrangechoice,theywouldwhisper.Whywouldhedothis?
Why,indeed.
Afterall,vampiresknowbetterthananyonehowimportantitistoprotecttheirhearts.
Andlove,understand,issharperthananystake.CHAPTERONE
Itstartedaspractice.Justalittlegame,alittleexercise.SomethingIneededtoprovetomyself.Iwasn’tsurewhenithadevolvedintosport—myshameful,secretrebellion.
Somemightfinditstupidforme,ahuman,tohuntatnight,whenIwasataconsiderabledisadvantagecomparedtomyprey.Butthenightwaswhentheyacted,andsoitwaswhenIdid,too.
Ipressedtothewall,thedaggerclenchedtightinmyhands.Thenightwaswarm,thekindwhenthesun’sheatclungtothesteamyhumidityoftheairlongaftersunset.Thesmellhunginathick,rottencloud—rancidfoodfromthetrashinthealleys,yes,butalsodecayingmeatandsourblood.Thevampiresdidn’tcaretocleanupafterthemselveshere,inthehumandistrictsoftheHouseofNight.
Humansweresupposedtobesafehere,withinthewallsofthekingdom—citizens,ifinferiorones,weakerthantheNightbornineveryway.Butthatsecondtruthtoooftenrenderedthefirstirrelevant.
ThemanwasaHiaj,hiswingstuckedinclosetohisback.Apparentlyhewasn’tmuchofamagicuser,becausehedidn’tspiritthemawayforeasierhunting.Ormaybehejustenjoyedtheeffectthattheyhadonhisprey.Someofthemwereshowylikethat.Theylikedtobefeared.
Fromtherooftop,Iwatchedthemanstalkhistarget—alittleboy,perhapsten,thoughsmallfromobviousmalnourishment.Theboywasinthefenced-indirtyardofaclayhouse,bouncingaballagainstthedustoverandoveragain,oblivioustodeathcreepinguponhim.
Itwasso,sostupidforthisboytobeoutatnightalone.Butthenagain,Iknewbetterthananyonehowgrowingupinconstantdangercouldwearuponaperson.Maybethisfamilyhadkepttheirchildreninsideafterdarkeverysingledayofthelasttenyears.Itonlytookonelapse,onedistractedmotherwhoforgottocallhimback,onegrumpychildwhowasn’treadytocomeinsidefordinner.Justonenightinalifetime.
Ithappenedsooften.
Butitwouldn’thappentonight.
Whenthevampiremoved,sodidI.
Idroppedfromtherooftopdowntothecobblestones.Iwasquiet,butvampirehearingwasimpeccable.Themanturned,greetingmewithicyeyesandacurledlipthatrevealedaglintofsharpivory.
Didherecognizeme?Sometimestheydid.Ididn’tgivethisonethechance.
Itwaspracticallyroutine,bynow.AsystemI’dhonedtoperfectiononhundredsofnightsjustlikethisone.
Wingsfirst.Twoslashes,onethrougheach—enoughtokeephimfromflying.WithHiajvampires,thatwaseasy.Themembranousskinwasdelicateaspaper.SometimesIwouldcatchRishanvampiresinstead,andthatwasabitmorechallenging—theirfeatheredwingswerehardertopuncture—butIhadrefinedthetechnique.Thisstepwasimportant,andthatwaswhyitcamefirst.Ineededtokeepthemhereonthegroundwithme.Imadethemistakeofskippingitonce,andalmostdidn’tsurvivetolearnthelesson.
Icouldn’tbestrongerthanthem,soIhadtobemoreprecise.Notimeformistakes.
Thevampireletoutasoundbetweenagaspofpainandasnarlofrage.Myheartbeathadbecomearapiddrum,bloodclosetothesurfaceofmyskin.Iwonderedifhesmelledit.Ispentmyentirelifetryingtohidetheflushofmyblood,butrightnow,Iwasgladforit.Itmadethemstupid.Thisfoolwasn’tevenarmed,yethestillthrewhimselfatmewithoutacareintheworld.
Ilovedit—really,trulylovedit—whentheyunderestimatedme.
Abladetotheside,beneaththeribs.Anothertothethroat.Notenoughtokill.Enoughtomakehimfalter.
Ipushedhimagainstthewall,onebladeskeweringhimtokeephimstill.I’dcoatedtheedgeswithDhaivinth—afast-actingparalytic,potentthoughshort-lived.Itwouldonlyworkforafewminutes,butthatwasallIneeded.
Heonlymanagedacouplescratchesacrossmycheekwithrazor-tippedfingersbeforehismovementsbegantoweaken.AndjustwhenIsawhiseyesblinkfast,likehewastryingtowakehimselfup,Istruck.
Youhavetopushhardtomakeitthroughthebreastbone.
Idid—hardenoughtocrackthebone,toopenthepassagetohisheart.Vampireswerestrongerthanmeineveryway—theirbodiesmoremuscular,movementsswifter,teethsharper.
Buttheirheartswerejustassoft.
Themomentmybladepuncturedtheirchest,Ialwaysheardmyfather’svoice.
Don’tlookaway,littleserpent,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.
Ididn’t.Notthen,andnotnow.BecauseIknewwhatI’dseethereinthedarkness.IknewI’dseethebeautifulfaceofaboyIoncelovedverymuch,andexactlyhowitlookedwhenmyknifeslidintohischest.
Vampireswerethechildrenofthegoddessofdeath.Soitwasabitfunnytomethattheyfeareditjustasmuchashumansdid.Iwatchedthemeverytime,andIsawtheterrorsettleovertheirfacesastheyrealizeditwascomingforthem.
Atleastinthis,wewerethesame.Atleastwe’reallfuckingcowardsintheend.
Vampirebloodwasdarkerthanhumanblood.Almostblack,asifdarkenedlayeroverlayerbyhumanandanimalbloodconsumedoverthecourseofcenturies.OnceIletthevampirefall,Iwascoveredinit.
Isteppedbackfromthebody.ItwasonlythenthatIsawthefamilystaringatme—Iwasquiet,butnotquietenoughtoavoidnoticewhenIwaspracticallyontheirdoorstep.Theboywasnowclutchedtightinhismother’sarms.Amanwaswiththem,too,andanotherchild,ayoungergirl.Theywerethin,theirclothesplainandthreadbare,stainedfromlongdaysofwork.Allfourofthemstoodinthedoorway,eyeslockedonme.
Ifroze,likeastagcaughtbyatrackerintheforest.
Strange,thatitwasthesestarvinghumans,notthevampire,thatturnedmefromthehuntertothehunted.
MaybeitwasbecausewhenIwaswithvampires,IknewwhatIwas.ButwhenIlookedatthesehumans,thelinesgrewblurryandill-defined—likeIwasobservingatwistedreflectionofmyself.
OrmaybeIwasthereflection.
Theywerelikeme.Andyet,Icouldfindnothingincommonbetweenus.IimaginedthatifIopenedmymouthtospeaktothem,wewouldn’tevenunderstandthenoiseseachothermade.Theylookedlikeanimalstome.
Theuglytruthwasthatperhapsapartofmewasdisgustedbythem,thesamewayIwasdisgustedbyallmyownhumanflaws.Andyetanotherpartofme—maybethepartthatrememberedIhadoncelivedinahousejustlikethisone—longedtoventurecloser.
Iwouldn’t,ofcourse.
No,Iwasn’tavampire.Thatmuchwasabundantlyclear,everysecondofeveryday.ButIwasn’toneofthem,either.
Ashockofcoldstruckmycheek.Itoucheditandmyfingerscamebackwet.Rain.
Thedropsdisruptedourbreathlesssilence.Thewomansteppedforward,asiftosaysomething,butIhadalreadyslippedbackintotheshadows.
***
Icouldn’tresistthedetour.Normally,Iwouldhavescaledthecastledirectlytomyroominthewesterntowers.Instead,Iclimbedeast,jumpingthegardenwallsandheadingtotheservants’quarters.Islippedinthroughthewindow,whichoverlookedanovergrownbushofindigoblueblossomsthatflushedsilverinthemoonlight.Assoonasmyfeettouchedthefloor,Icursed,nearlytopplingoveraswhatfeltlikeapileofliquidfabricslidbeneathmybootsoverthesmoothwood.
Thelaughsoundedlikethecawofacrow,devolvingquicklyintoacacophonyofcoughs.
“Silk,”theoldwomancroaked.“Thebesttrapforlittleburglars.”
“Thisplaceisafuckingdisaster,Ilana.”
“Bah.”Sheroundedthecornerandpeeredatmethroughnarrowedeyes,drawinginadeep,rattlinginhaleofhercigarandlettingthesmokeoutthroughhernose.Shewasdressedincascadingchiffondyedinwavesofcolor.Black-and-graystreakedhairpiledatopherheadwithadmirablevolume.Goldpendantsdangledfromeachearlobe,andherwrinkledeyeswerepaintedwithshadesofgray-blueandagenerousliningofkohl.
Herapartmentwasjustascolorfulandchaoticasshewas—clothingandjewelsandbrightpaintstrewnabouteverysurface.Ihadcomeinthroughherlivingroomwindow,whichInowpulledclosedagainsttherain.Theplacewastiny,butfarnicerthantheclay,crumblingslumsinthehumandistrict.
Shelookedmeupanddown,rubbingherneck.“Itakenocriticismsfromadrownedratlikeyou.”
Iglanceddownatmyselfandblanched.Onlynow,inthewarmlanternlight,didIrealizewhatamessIwas.
“You’dneverguessyouwereprettyunderallofthat,Oraya,”shewenton.“Deadsetonmakingyourselflookasunappealingaspossible.Whichremindsme!Ihavesomethingforyou.Here.”
Withknobby,arthritichands,shefishedthroughacrumpledpilebesideher,thentossedafistfuloffabricacrosstheroomtome.“Catch.”
Icaughtitinmyfist,thenunfoldedit.ThebandofsilkwasnearlyaslongasIwastall,andastunningdeepvioletwithedgesembroideredingold.
“Mademethinkofyou.”Ilanaleanedagainstthedoorframeandtookanotherpuffofhercigar.
Ididn’taskwhereshehadgottensomethinglikethis.Agehadnotmadeherfingersanylessdeft—orsticky.
“Youshouldkeepit.Idon’twearthissortofstuff.Youknowthat.”
Daytoday,Iworeonlyblack,plainclothingthatattractedlittleattentionandallowedmefreerangeofmovement.Ididn’teverwearanythingbright(asitwoulddrawunwantedeyes),flowing(asitwouldallowsomeonetograbme),orrestrictive(asitwouldimpedemyabilitytofight,orflee).Iworemyleathersmostofthetime,evenintheoppressiveheatofthesummer.Theywereprotectiveandunobtrusive.
Sure,maybeIadmiredprettythingsjustasmuchasanyother.ButIwassurroundedbypredators.Vanitycamesecondtosurvival.
Ilanascoffed.“Iknowthatyouloveittoo,rat.Evenifyou’retooafraidtowear’em.Damnedshame.Youthiswastedontheyoung.Beauty,too.It’sagoodcolorforyou.DancearoundnakedinyourbedroomwithitforallIcare.”
MybrowquirkedasIeyedherhoardofcolors.“Isthatwhatyoudowithyours?”
Shewinked.“Allthatandmore.Anddon’tpretendyoudon’t,too.”
Ilanahadneverbeentomyroom,andyetsheknewmewellenoughtoknowthatIdid,indeed,haveasingledrawerstuffedwithlittle,colorfultrinketsthatIhadcollectedovertheyears.Thingsthatweretoopointlesslyostentatioustowearinthislife,butthat,perhaps,Icoulddreamofwearinginanother.
NomatterhowmuchItriedtoexplainittoher,Ilanadidn’tunderstandmycaution.She’dmadeitclearmanytimesoverthatshewasdone—“Done!”sheproclaimed—withcaution.
Ihonestlydidn’tknowhowtheoldbathadsurvivedthislong,butIwasgratefulforit.ThehumansIhadseenintheslumsthismorningwerenothinglikeme,andthevampiresthatsurroundedmeevenlessso.OnlyIlanalingeredsomewhereinbetween,justlikeIdid.
Albeitforverydifferentreasons.
Ihadbeenraisedinthisworld,butIlanahadjoineditofherownvolitiontenyearsago.Asayoungteenager,Ihadbeenfascinatedbyher.Ihadmetfewotherhumans.Ididn’trealizethenthatIlanawas,evenamonghumans,somewhat…unique.
Ilanatouchedherneckagain.Irealizedtheclothclenchedinherfistwasn’tred,oratleast,ithadn’tstartedthatway.Isteppedcloserandnoticedthewoundsonherthroat—threesetsoftwo.Thenthebandageonherwrist,whichcoveredupNyaxia-knewhowmanymore.
Myfacemusthavechanged,becauseshehackedanotherlaugh.
“Abigdinnertonight,”shesaid.“Iwaspaidwellforit.Paid,tohavehandsomemensuckonmyneckallnight.Myyoungerselfwouldbethrilled.”
Icouldn’tbringmyselftoevencrackasmile.
Yes,IhadnoideahowIlanahadsurvivedthislong.Mostvoluntaryhumanbloodvendors—ofwhichtherewerefew—werekilledwithinayearoftheirwork.Iknewtoowellexactlyhowlittleself-controlvampireshadwhenhungerwasinvolved.
SomethingsIlanaandIwouldneveragreeon.
“Iwon’tbearoundforawhile,”Isaid,changingthesubject.“Ijustwantedtoletyouknow,soyoudon’tworry.”
Ilana’sfacewentstill.Eveninthedimlight,Isawherpaletwoshades.“Thatbastard.You’redoingit.”
Ididn’twanttohavethisconversation,eventhoughIknewitwascoming.
“Youshouldthinkaboutleavingtheinnercitytemporarily,”Iwenton.“Goingtothedistricts.Iknowyouhateit,butatleastthere—”
“Fuckthat.”
“It’stheKejari,Ilana.It’snotsafehereforyou.Foranyhumanoutsidetheprotecteddistrict.”
“‘Protecteddistrict.’Thoseslums.There’sareasonwhyIleft.Theyreekofmisery.”Hernosewrinkled.“Miseryandpiss.”
“It’ssafe.”
Ididn’tmisstheironyofsayingthiswhenIwascoveredinbloodafterreturningfromthatplace.
“Bah.Safetyisoverrated.Whatkindoflifeisthat?Youwantmetoleavewhenthemostexcitingeventintwocenturiesisabouttohappenonmydoorstep?No,sweetheart.I’mnotdoingthat.”
IhadtoldmyselfthatIwouldstaycalm—hadknownthatIlanawouldprobablynotlistentome.Still,Icouldn’tkeepthefrustrationfrommyvoice.
“You’rebeingfoolish.It’sjustafewmonths.Orevenafewdays!Ifyouweretoleavejustfortheopening—”
“Foolish!”shespat.“Isthathimtalking?Isthatwhathecallsyou,wheneveryouwanttodoanythingoutsidehiscontrol?”
Iletoutabreaththroughclenchedteeth.Yes,VincentwouldcallmefoolishifIwasrefusingtoprotectmyselffornogoodreason.Andhe’dberightforit,too.
Thehumandistrictmaybeaslum,butatleasthumanstherehadtheveneerofprotection.Here?Ididn’tknowwhatwouldhappentoIlana,oranyhumanwithintheinnercity,oncetheKejaribegan.Especiallyonethathadalreadysignedawaytheirblood.
I’dheardstoriesabouthowhumanshadbeenusedinthesetournaments.Ididn’tknowwhatwastrueandwhatwasexaggeration,buttheymademystomachturn.SometimesIwantedtoaskVincent,butIknewhe’dthinkIwasconcernedformyself.Ididn’twanthimtoworryovermeanymorethanhealreadydid.And…hedidn’tquiteknowexactlyhowcloseIlanaandIhadgottenovertheselastfewyears.
TherewerealotofthingsVincentdidn’tknow.Partsofmyselfthatdidn’tlineupwithhisvisionforwhoIwas.JustastherewerethingsaboutmethatIlanawouldneverunderstand.
Still,Ididn’tknowwhatIwoulddowithouteitherofthem.Ihadnofamilyhere.WhoeverwasinthathousewithmewhenVincentfoundmehadbeenkilled.Ifanydistantrelativesremained,theyweretrappedsomewhereIcouldn’treach;atleast,notuntilIwontheKejari.ButIhadVincent,andIhadIlana,andtheyhadbecomeeverythingthatIimaginedafamilytobe,evenifneitherofthemcouldunderstandeverycontradictorypartofme.
Now,asthepossibilityoflosingIlanaseemedsuddenlyfartootangible,fearclenchedmyheartandrefusedtorelinquishit.
“Ilana,please.”Myvoicewasoddlychoked.“Please,justgo.”
Ilana’sfacesoftened.ShestuffedhercigarintoanoverflowingashtrayandcamecloseenoughthatIcouldcountthewrinklesaroundhereyes.Herleatheryhandcaressedmycheek.Shesmelledlikesmokeandtoo-pungentroseperfume—andblood.
“You’resweet,”shesaid.“Prickly,butsweet.Inanacidicsortofway.Like…likeapineapple.”
Despitemyself,thecornerofmymouthtwisted.“Apineapple?”
Whataridiculousword.Knowingher,sheprobablymadeitup.
“ButI’mtired,sweetheart.Tiredofbeingafraid.IleftthedistrictbecauseIwantedtoseewhatitwaslikehere,andithasbeenexactlyasmuchofanadventureasIthoughtitwouldbe.Iriskmylifeeverydaytobehere.Asdoyou.”
“Youdon’thavetobestupidaboutit.”
“Itbecomesarebellionnottocare.IknowyouknowthataswellasIdo.Evenifyoustuffthecolorsintothebackofyourdresser.”Sheshotapointedlooktomybloodstainedclothes.“Evenifyouhideitintheshadowsofthedistrict’salleyways.”
“Please,Ilana.Justforaweek,evenifitisn’tforthefullKejari.Here.”Ithrustoutthescarf.“Takethisgarishthingandgiveittomewhenyoucomeback,andIevenpromiseI’llwearit.”
Shewassilentforalongmoment,thentookthesilkandtuckeditintoherpocket.“Fine.I’llleaveinthemorning.”
Iletoutasighofrelief.
“Butyou.You,stubbornrat…”Herhandscametomyface,squishingmycheeksbetweenthem.“Youbecareful.Iwon’tlectureyouaboutwhathe’smakingyoudo—”
Ipulledawayfromhershockinglystronggrip.“He’snotmakingmedoanything.”
“Bah!”Ihadmovedjustintime,becausethescoffwassoviciousitsentflecksofspittleflying.“Idon’twanttowatchyoubecomeoneofthem.Itwouldbe—”Herjawsnappedshut,andhereyessearchedmyface,awaveofunnervinglyintenseemotionpassingoverherexpression.“Itwouldbefuckingboring.”
Itwasn’twhatshewantedtosay,andIknewit.ButIlanaandIhadthatsortofrelationship.Alltherawhonesty,alltheunpleasanttenderness,hidinthethingswedidn’tsay.JustasIwouldnotsayaloudthatIwascompetingintheKejari,shewouldnotsayaloudthatshewasscaredforme.
Still,itstartledmetoseeheronthevergeoftears.OnlynowdidIreallyrealizethatsheonlyhadme.I,atleast,hadVincent,butshewasalone.
Mygazedrifteduptotheclock,andIspatacurse.
“Ihavetogo,”Iblurtedout,retreatingtothewindow.“Don’tdrinkyourselftodeath,youoldhag.”
“Don’tskeweryourselfwiththatstickupyourass,”sheretorted,wipinghereyes,allhintsofherearliervulnerabilitygone.
Crazyoldbitch,Ithought,affectionately.
Ithrewopenthewindowandletthesteamofthesummerrainhitmyface.Ididn’tmeantopause—somethingheaviersatonthetipofmytongue,wordsI’donlysaidoutloudoncebeforetosomeonewhodeserveditless.
ButIlanahadalreadydisappearedbackintoherbedroom.IswallowedwhateverIwasgoingtosay,andfellbackintothenight.CHAPTERTWO
Oncetherainstarted,itcameonfast.TypicaloftheHouseofNight.Vincentjokedoften,inhisdry,sardonicway,thatthiscountryneverdidanythinghalfway.Thesuneitherassaulteduswithunrelentingheat,oritretreatedcompletelybeneathmanylayersofdusky,red-grayclouds.Theairwasaridandsohotyousworeitwouldbakeyoualive,orcoldenoughtomakeyourjointscrack.Halfthetime,themoonhidwithinthehaze,butwhenitwasvisible,itgleamedlikepolishedsilver,itslightsointenseitmadethedipsandhillsofthesandresemblethewavesoftheocean—orwhatI’dimaginedsuchathingwouldlooklike.
ItdidnotrainoftenintheNightbornkingdom,butwhenitdid,itwasadownpour.
BythetimeImadeitbacktothePalace,Iwassoaked.Mypathupthesideofthebuildingwastreacherous,eachgripofstoneslipperyandwater-slicked,butitwasn’tthefirsttimeI’dmadethejourneyintherainanditwouldn’tbethelast.WhenIfinallyvaultedintomybedchamber,manystoriesabovetheground,mymusclesburnedwiththeeffort.
Myhairwasdrippingwet.Iwrungitout,sendingasymphonyofdropletsspatteringtothevelvetbenchbeneaththewindow,andturnedtothehorizon.Itwassohotthattherainsummonedasilvercloudofsteamoverthecity.Theviewfromupherewasverydifferentthantheonefromtherooftopinthehumanquarterofthecity.Thathadbeenanexpanseofclayblocks,apaintingofvaryingshadesofbrownsquaresbeneaththemoonlight.IntheheartofSivrinaj,though—inroyalNightbornterritory—everyglanceoverflowedwithsumptuouselegance.
Theviewfrommywindowwasasymmetricalseaofundulatingcurves.TheNightborndrewtheirarchitecturalinspirationfromtheskyandmoon—metal-cappeddomes,polishedgranite,silverthatcradledindigostainedglass.Fromuphere,themoonlightandraincaressedanexpanseofplatinum.ThegroundwassoflatthateventhoughSivrinajwasamassivecity,Icouldstillglimpsethedunesinthedistancebeyonditswalls.
Eternitygavevampiressomanyyearstoperfecttheartofdark,dangerousbeauty.I’dheardthattheHouseofShadow,acrosstheIvorySea,craftedtheirbuildingsthewaytheycraftedblades,eachcastleanintricatesetofpointedspiressprawlingwithblood-kissedivy.Someclaimedtheirswasthemostexquisitearchitectureintheworld—butIdidn’tknowhowanyonecouldsaythatiftheysawtheHouseofNightasIdid,fromthisroom.Itwasevenstunningindaylight,whennooneherebutmecouldwitnessit.
Icarefullyclosedthewindow,andIhadbarelyfinishedlatchingitwhentheknocksoundedatmydoor.Tworaps,quietbutdemanding.
Fuck.
IwasluckyIhadn’tgottenherejustafewminuteslater.Ithadbeenriskytogoouttonight,butIcouldn’thelpmyself.Mynervesweretoostrained.Myhandshadtodosomething.
Ihastilyremovedmycoatandtosseditintoadiscardedpileofclothesinthecorner,thengrabbedmyrobeandwrappeditaroundmyself.Itwouldbeenoughtocovertheblood,atleast.
Irushedacrosstheroomandopenedthedoor,andVincentdidn’thesitatebeforestridingin.
Hegavemyroomacold,judgmentalonceover.“It’samessinhere.”
NowIknewhowIlanafelt.“I’vehadbiggerthingstoworryaboutthancleaning.”
“Keepingatidyspaceisimportantformentalclarity,Oraya.”
Iwastwenty-three,andhestilllecturedmethatway.
Itouchedmyforehead,asifhehadjustbestoweduponmeinformationthatrearrangedmyuniverse.“Fuck.Itis?”
Vincent’smoon-silvereyesnarrowedatme.“You’reaninsolentbrat,littleserpent.”
Heneversoundedmoreaffectionatethanwhenhewasinsultingme.MaybeitmeantsomethingthatbothIlanaandVincentcradledtheirtendernessinharshwords.Theyweresodifferentfromeachotherineveryothersense.Butmaybethisplacemadeallofusthatway.Taughtustohideloveinsharpedges.
Now,forsomereason,thatrebukemademychestclench.Funny,thethingsthatmakethefearfinallybubbletothesurface.Iwasscared,evenifIknewbetterthantogivevoicetoit.AndIknewVincentwas,too.Isawitinthewayhissmirkslippedawayashelookedatme.
SomemightthinkthatVincentwasnotfrightenedofanything.Ididforalongtime.Igrewupwatchinghimrule—watchinghimseizeabsoluterespectfromasocietythatrespectednothing.
Hewasmyfatherinnamealone.PerhapsIdidn’thavehisblood,orhismagic,orhisimmortality.ButIhadthatruthlessness.Hehadcultivateditinme,onethornatatime.
YetasIgrewolder,Ilearnedthatbeingruthlesswasnotthesamethingasbeingfearless.Iwasafraidconstantly,andsowasVincent.Themanwhowasafraidofnothingwasafraidforme—hishumandaughterraisedinaworlddesignedtokillher.
UntiltheKejari.Atournamentwiththeabilitytochangeeverything.
UntilIwon,anditfreedme.
OrIlost,anditdamnedme.
Vincentblinked,andwebothmadethemutual,silentdecisionnottovoicesuchthoughts.Helookedmeupanddown,asifnoticingmyappearanceforthefirsttime.“You’rewet.”
“Itookabath.”
“Beforetraining?”
“Ineededtorelax.”
Well,thatwastrue.Ijustdecidedtodoitinaverydifferentwaythansoakinginalavenderbath.
EventhatstatementcamealittletooclosetoacknowledgingtherealityofoursituationforVincent’scomfort.Hismouthslanted,andheranahandthroughpaleblondhair.
Histell.Hisonlyone.Somethingwasweighingonhim.Itcouldbeaboutmeandtheimpendingtrials,or…
Icouldn’thelpbutask.
“What?”Iasked,quietly.“TroublewiththeRishan?”
Hewassilent.
Mystomachdropped.“OrtheHouseofBlood?”
Orboth?
Histhroatbobbed,andheshookhishead.Yetthatlittlemovementwasenoughtoconfirmmysuspicion.
Iwantedtoaskmore,butVincent’shandfelltohiship,andIrealizedhehadbroughthisrapier.
“Ourworkismoreimportantthansuchboringthings.Therewillalwaysbeanotherenemytoworryabout,butyouonlyhavetonight.Come.”
***
Vincentwasasruthlessaninstructorashewasaruler,meticulousandthorough.I’dgottenusedtothis,butstill,theintensityofitcaughtmeoff-guardtonight.Hedidn’tgivemetimetothinkorhesitatebetweenstrikes.Heusedhisweapon,hiswings,thefullforceofhisstrength—evenhismagic,whichherarelyemployedinourtrainingsessions.ItwasasifhewastryingtoshowmeexactlywhatitwouldbelikeiftheKingoftheNightbornvampireswantedmedead.
Butthenagain,Vincenthadneverheldbackwithme.EvenwhenIwasachild,heneverletmeforgethowclosedeathlingered.Everyfalterwasmetwithhishandatmythroat—twofingertipspressedtomyskin,mimickingfangs.
“You’redeadnow,”hewouldsay.“Tryagain.”
Ididn’tlethimgetthosefingerstomythroatthistime.Mymusclesscreamed,alreadytiredfrommylastencounter,butIdodgedeveryblow,slippedeverygrip,meteverystrikewithmyown.Andfinally,aftercountless,exhaustingminutes,Ihadhimagainstthewall,onefingertohischest—thepointofmyblade.
“You’redeadhere,”Ipanted.
AndthanktheMotherforit,becauseIwouldn’thavesurvivedanotherfuckingsecondofthismatch.
ThecornerofVincent’slipcurledinprideforonlyamoment.“IcoulduseAsteris.”
Asteris—amongthemostpowerfuloftheNightbornvampires’magicalgifts,andtherarest.Pureenergysaidtobederivedfromstars,manifestedasblindingblacklightcapableofkillinginstantlyatfullforce.Vincent’smasteryofitwaspeerless.I’doncewitnessedhimuseittolevelanentirebuildingofRishanrebels.
Vincenthadtried,overtheyears,toteachmehowtowieldmagic.Icouldmakeafewlittlesparks.Patheticcomparedtothelethalskillofavampiremagicuser—fromtheHouseofNightoranyother.
Foramoment,thethoughtofthis—afreshreminderofallthewaysIwasinferiortothewarriorsIwasabouttoface—mademedizzy.ButIpushedthisuncertaintyawayquickly.“Asteriswouldn’tmatterifI’dalreadykilledyou.”
“Wouldyoubefastenough?Youalwaysstruggledtogettotheheart.”
Youhavetopushhardtomakeitthroughthebreastbone.
Iblinkedbacktheunwelcomememory.“Notanymore.”
Myfingerwasstillpressedtohischest.Iwasneverentirelysurewhenoursparringsessionsended,soIneverletupbeforethematchwascalled.Hewasonlyafewinchesfromme—afewinchesfrommythroat.Inever,everallowedanyothervampirethisclose.Thesmellofmybloodwasoverwhelmingtothem.Evenifavampirewantedtoresistit—andtheysorarelydid—theymightnotbeabletocontrolthemselves.
Vincenthadcarvedtheselessonsintome.Nevertrust.Neveryield.Alwaysguardyourheart.
AndwhenIhaddisobeyed,Ihadpaidforitdearly.
Butnotwithhim.Neverhim.Hehadpackedmybleedingwoundscountlesstimeswithoutrevealingevenahintoftemptation.HadguardedmewhenIslept.Hadcaredformeatmyweakest.
Thatmadeiteasier.Ispentmyentirelifeafraid,foreverconsciousofmyweaknessandinferiority,butatleastIhadasinglesafeharbor.
Vincent’seyessearchedmyface.
“Verywell.”Hepushedmyhandaway.Iwenttotheedgeofthering,wincingasIrubbedawoundhe’dopenedonmyarm.Hebarelyglancedattheblood.
“Youhavetobecarefulofthatwhenyou’reinthere,”hesaid.“Bleeding.”
Iwrinkledmynose.Goddess,hemustbeworried.Tellingmesuchbasicthings.“Iknow.”
“Morethanusual,Oraya.”
“Iknow.”
Itookaswigofwaterfrommycanteen,mybacktohim.Myeyesinsteadtracedthefrescoesonthewall—beautifulandterriblepaintingsdepictingrazor-teethedvampireswrithinginaseaofbloodbeneathsilverstars.Thearrangementstretchedtheentireroom.ThisprivatetrainingringwasreservedforVincentandhishighest-rankingwarriors,anditwasmoredisgustinglyornatethananyplacemeantforspit,blood,andsweatshouldbe.Thefloorwassoftivorysandreplacedfromtheduneseveryweek.Thefrescocoveredthecircular,windowlesswalls—asingle,panoramictableauofdeathandconquering.
ThefiguresdepictedinitwereHiajvampires,withbat-likewingsranginginshadefrommilky-paletoash-black.Twohundredyearsago,thosewingswouldhavebeenthefeatheredwingsoftheRishan,therivalNightbornclanperpetuallybattlingforthethroneoftheHouseofNight.SincethegoddessNyaxiacreatedvampiresmorethantwothousandyearsago—sincebeforethen,someevenclaimed—thetwosectswagedconstantwar.Andwitheveryturninthetide,everynewbloodlineonthethrone,thisfrescowouldchange—wingspaintedanderased,paintedanderased,dozensoftimesoverthousandsofyears.
IglancedovermyshoulderatVincent.Hehadlefthiswingsout,whichwasrare.Usuallyhespiritedthemawaywithhismagic,unlessitwassomediplomaticeventthatrequiredhimtoflaunthisHiajpower.Theywerelongenoughthatthetipsnearlybrushedthefloor,andblack—soblackitdefiednature,asifthelightseepedintohisskinanddiedthere.Butevenmorestrikingwerethestreaksofred.Crimsonrandownhiswingslikerivuletsofwater,collectingattheedgesandateachpointedtip.WhenVincent’swingswerespread,theylookedasiftheywereoutlinedinblood,vividenoughtocutthrougheventhemostunforgivingdarkness.
Theblackwasunusual,butnotunheardof.Thered,though,wasunique.EachHiajorRishanHeirboretwomarks—redontheirwings,andanotherontheirbody—whichappearedwhenthepreviousHeirdied.Vincent’sMarkwasatthebaseofhisthroat,justabovehisclavicle.Itwasamesmerizing,ornatedesignthatresembledafullmoonandwings,wrappingaroundthefrontofhisneckincrimsonasvibrantasableedingwound.Ihadonlyseenitacoupleoftimes.Heusuallycovereditbeneathhigh-collaredjacketsorblacksilkwrappedtightandneataroundhisneck.
WhenIwasyounger,Ihadonceaskedhimwhyhedidn’tleaveitvisiblemoreoften.He’djustgivenmeaseriousstareandblandlyremarkedthatitwasunwisetoleaveone’sthroatexposed.
Thatanswershouldn’thavesurprisedme.Vincentwaswellawarethatusurperslurkedaroundeverycorner,bothoutsidehiswallsandwithinthem.Everynewking,HiajorRishan,wascrowneduponamountainofcorpses.Hehadbeennoexception.
Iturnedawayfromthepainting,justashesaidsoftly,“It’snearingafullmoon.Youshouldhaveafewmoredays,butitcouldbeginanytime.Youneedtobeready.”
Iswallowedanothergulpofwater.Still,mymouthtastedashy.“Iknow.”
“Thestartcouldbeanything.Shelikesittobe…unexpected.”
She.Motherofnight,shadow,blood—motherofallvampires.Thegoddess,Nyaxia.
Atanymoment,shecouldtriggerthestartoftheonce-in-a-centurytributethattheHouseofNightstagedinherhonor.Asavagetournamentoffivetrialsoverfourmonths,resultinginonlyonewinner,andgrantingthemostpreciousprizetheworldhaseverknown:asinglegiftfromtheGoddessherself.
VampiresfromacrossObitraeswouldtraveltoparticipateintheKejari,drawnbythepromiseofwealthorhonor.Dozensofthemostpowerfulwarriorsfromallthreehouses—theHouseofNight,theHouseofShadow,andtheHouseofBlood—woulddieinpursuitofthistitle.
And,mostlikely,sowouldI.
Buttheywerefightingforpower.Iwasfightingforsurvival.
VincentandIbothturnedtoeachotheratthesametime.Hewasalwayspale,hisskinnearlymatchinghissilvereyes,butnowheseemedadownrightsicklyshade.
Hisfearmademyownunbearable,butIfoughtitdownwithapromise.No.Ihadtrainedmyentirelifeforthis.IwouldsurvivetheKejari.Iwouldwinit.
JustlikeVincenthadbeforeme,twohundredyearsago.
Heclearedhisthroat,straightening.“Gochangeintosomethingdecent.We’regoingtolookatyourcompetition.”CHAPTERTHREE
VincenthadsaidthiswasafeasttowelcometravelerstotheHouseofNightaheadofthestartoftheKejari.Butthatwasanunderstatement.Theeventwasn’ta“feast”somuchasitwasadisplayofshameless,exuberantgluttony.
Well,thatwasfitting,wasn’tit?TheKejarionlyhappenedonceeveryhundredyears,andhostingitwastheHouseofNight’sgreatesthonor.Duringthetournament,SivrinajwelcomedguestsfromeverycornerofObitraes,includingallthreeHouses.Itwasanimportantdiplomaticevent,especiallyfornoblesfromtheHouseofNightandHouseofShadow.NoonewasquiteaseagerforavisitfromtheHouseofBlood—therewasareasonwhynoneoftheBloodbornhadbeeninvitedtothisevent—butVincentwouldneverpassontheopportunitytopeacockbeforetherestofvampirehighsociety.
IcametothispartofthecastlesorarelythatIhadforgottenjusthowstrikingitwas.Theceilingwasahighdomeofstainedglass,gold-dyedstarsscatteredacrossceruleanblue.Themoonlightspillingthroughitdancedoverthecrowdinwhorls.Halfadozenlongtableshadbeenset,nowholdingonlytheremnantsofwhathadcertainly,hoursago,beenanincrediblebanquet.Vampiresenjoyedallformsoffoodforpleasure,thoughblood—human,vampire,oranimal—wasnecessaryfortheirsurvival.Thefoodstillsat,longcold,onthetables,whiletheblooddottedplatesandtableclothsindribblesandspattersofdryingcrimson.
IthoughtofthewoundsonIlana’sthroatandwristandwonderedwhichstainswerehers.
“Everyonealreadyate.”Vincentofferedmehisarm,andItookit.Heputmebetweenhimselfandthewall.Everythingabouthisdemeanorwascoollycasual,butIknewthiswasaveryintentionaldecision—thearm,andmyplacement.TheformerremindedtherestoftheroomthatIwashisdaughter.Thelatterphysicallyprotectedmefromanyonewhomight,inbloodlust,makeanimpulsivedecisionthey’dregret.
Vincentdidn’tusuallyallowmetothesetypesofevents—forobviousreasons.HeandIbothunderstoodthatahumaninaballroomofhungryvampireswasabadideaforeveryoneinvolved.OntherareoccasionsthatIdidgooutintovampiricsociety,Iattractedflagrantattention.Todaywasnoexception.Allstaresfelltohimasheentered.Andthentheyshiftedtome.
Myjawlockedandmusclesstiffened.
Everythingaboutthatfeltwrong.Tobesovisible.Tohavesomanypotentialthreatstowatch.
Withdinnerdone,mosthadmovedtothedancefloor,ahundredorsoguestsmillingaboutdancingorgossipingastheysippedglassesofredwine—orblood.IrecognizedthefamiliarfacesofVincent’scourt,buttherewerealsoplentyofforeigners.ThosefromtheHouseofShadowworeheavy,tight-fittingclothing,thewomenadornedincorsetsandclingy,velvetygowns,themendonnedinstiff,minimalistjackets—allverydifferentfromtheHouseofNight’sflowingsilks.IalsosawafewunfamiliarfacesfromtheHouseofNight’souterreaches,peoplewholivednotintheinnercitybutperhapslordedoverdistrictsfartothewestofthedeserts,orintheHouseofNight’sislandterritoriesintheBoneSeas.
“I’vebeenwatchingforbandages.”Vincentduckedhisheadandspokequietlytome,lowenoughthatnooneelsecouldhear.“Somehavealreadymadetheirbloodgift.”
ToNyaxia—tosignaltheirentryintotheKejari.Myopponents.
“LordRavinthe.”Henoddedtoanashy-hairedmanlockedinenthusiasticconversationacrosstheballroom.Duringoneofhisgesticulations,Icaughtaflashofwhiteonhishand—black-redsoakedfabric,coveringawound.
“Ifoughtwithhimlongago,”Vincentsaid.“Hisrightkneeisbad.Hehidesitwell,butitpainshimgreatly.”
InoddedandcarefullyfiledthisinformationawayasVincentcontinuedtotakemearoundtheroom.Maybetosomeonewhowasn’tpayingattention,wemighthavelookedlikewewerejusttakingaleisurelywalk,butwitheverystep,hepointedoutothercontestants,tellingmeallheknewabouttheirbackgroundorweaknesses.
Aslight,fair-hairedShadowbornwomanwithsharpfeatures.
“KirettaThann.Imetherlongago.She’saweakswordswomanbutastrongmagician.Guardyourthoughtsaroundher.”
Athick,tallmanwhoseeyeshadimmediatelyfoundmethemomentweenteredtheroom.
“BironImanti.TheworstbloodlustI’veeverseen.”Vincent’slipcurledindisgust.“He’llgoafteryou,buthewillbesostupidaboutitthatitshouldbeeasyforyoutousethatagainsthim.”
Wefinishedonelapabouttheballroomandstartedanother.“Isawafewothers.IbrihimCain.And—”
“Ibrihim?”
Vincent’sbrowtwitched.“ManywillentertheKejarisolelybecausetheyfeeltheyhavenootheroption.”
IfoundIbrihimacrosstheroom.Hewasayoungvampire,barelyolderthanI,withanunusuallymeekdemeanor.Asifhecouldfeelmystare,hisgazeflickedtomefrombeneathamopofcurlyblackhair.Hegavemeaweaksmile,revealingmutilatedgumsjarringlyabsentofcanineteeth.Besidehimwashismother,awomanasbrutallyaggressiveashersonwasquiet—andthesourceofhiswounds.
Itwasastorytoocommontobetragic.Abouttenyearsago,whenIbrihimwasonthecuspofadulthood,hisparentshadpinnedhimdown,removedhisteeth,andhobbledhisleftleg.Ihadbeenthirteenorsowhenithappened.Ibrihim’sfacehadbeenamessofswollen,bruisedflesh.Unrecognizable.Ihadbeenhorrified,andIdidn’tunderstandwhyVincentwasn’t.
WhatIdidn’trealizethenwasthatvampireslivedinconstantfearoftheirownfamily.Immortalitymadesuccessionabloody,bloodybusiness.EvenVincenthadmurderedhisparents—andthreesiblings—togainhistitle.Vampireskilledtheirparentsforpower,thencrippledtheirownchildrentokeepthemfromdoingthesame.Itsatisfiedtheiregosinthepresentandsecuredthefuture.Theirlinewouldcontinue…butnotamomentbeforetheywerereadyforit.
AtleasttheKejariwouldgiveIbrihimachancetoregainhisdignityordietrying.Still…
“Hecan’tpossiblythinkhecouldwin,”Imuttered.
Vincentgavemeasidelongglance.“Everyonehereprobablythinksthesameofyou.”
Hewasn’twrong.
Anoverwhelmingcloudoflilacscentwaftedoverus.
“Thereyouare,sire.Youhaddisappeared.Ihadbeenstartingtogetconcerned.”
VincentandIturned.Jesmineapproachedus,carefullytossingawaveofsmoothash-brownhairoverabareshoulder.Sheworearichredgownthat,whilesimple,clungtothelushshapeofherbody.She,unlikemostoftheHiajhere,leftherwingsvisible—theywereslategray,andhergowndippedlowenoughinthebacktoframethemwithpainterlydrapesofcrimson.Thedresswasdeepcuttorevealgenerouscleavageandamottledwhitescarthatranupthecenterofhersternum.
Shewasnevershyaboutdisplayingeither—hercleavage,orthescar.NotthatIcouldblameher.Hercleavagewasobjectivelyimpressive,andasforthescar…rumorhaditshe’dsurvivedastaking.IfI’ddonethat,I’dflauntthatmarkeverydamnedday.
ThecornerofVincent’smouthquirked.“Theworkneverends.Asyouknow.”
Jesmineraisedhercrimsonglass.“Idoindeed,”shepurred.
Oh,sunfuckingtakeme.
Ididn’tknowhowIfeltaboutVincent’snewlypromotedheadoftheguard.ItwasrareforawomantoachievesucharankintheHouseofNight—onlythreewomenhadservedinthatpositioninthelastthousandyears—andIapprovedofthatonprinciplealone.ButIhadalsobeentrainedmyentirelifetobedistrustful.Vincent’spreviousheadoftheguardhadbeenascraggly,scar-riddledmannamedThion,whohadservedfortwohundredyears.Ididn’tlikehim,butatleastIknewhewasloyal.
ButwhenThiongrewillandeventuallydied,histopgeneral,Jesmine,hadbeenthenaturalchoicetoreplacehim.Ididn’thaveanythingagainsther,butIdidn’tknowher,andIcertainlydidn’ttrusther.
MaybeIwasjustterritorial.Vincentseemedtolikeher.
Heleanedabitcloser.“Youlooklovely,”hemurmured.
Reallylikeher.
Despitemyself,ahintofmyscoffslippedfrommylips.Atthesound,Jesmine’samethysteyesslippedtome.Shewasnewenoughthatshestillregardedmewithblatantcuriosityratherthanthesomewhatlong-sufferingannoyanceoftheothermembersofVincent’stinyinnercircle.
Hergazeslowlymovedupmybody,takinginmystatureandmyleathers,drinkingineachfeatureofmyface.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dthinkshewasbeinglecherous.Whichwouldbe…well,flattering,ifitwasn’tsooftenaprecursortoanattemptonmythroat.
“Goodevening,Oraya.”
“Hello,Jesmine.”
Hernostrilsflared—asubtlemovement,butIsawitimmediately.Isteppedback,myhandmovingtomydagger.Vincentnoticedtoo,andever-so-slightlyshiftedtoputhisbodybetweenmineandhers.
“GivemeanupdateontheHouseofBlood,”Vincentsaidtoher,shootingmealookthatcommandedmetogo.Idriftedbacktowardsthedoor,awayfromtherestofthecrowd.
Itwasalmostenoughdistancefromthepartygueststoletmebreathealittleeasier.Almost.
Whenyou’reyoung,fearisdebilitating.Itspresencecloudsyourmindandsenses.Now,Ihadbeenafraidforsolong,soceaselessly,thatitwasjustanotherbodilyfunctiontoregulate—heartbeat,breath,sweat,muscles.Overtheyears,I’dlearnedhowtohackthephysicalityofitawayfromtheemotion.
ThebittertasteofjealousycoatedmytongueasIleanedagainstthedoorframe,watchingthepartygoers.IpaidspecialattentiontothoseVincenthadpointedoutasKejaricontestants.WiththeexceptionofIbrihim,whosatquietlyatthetable,mostseemedcarefree,dancinganddrinkingandflirtingthenightaway.Whendawncame,wouldtheyfallasleepentangledwithoneorthreepartners,sleepsoundly,andnotgiveasinglethoughttowhethertheywouldsurvivelongenoughtowakeagain?
Orwouldtheyfinallyknowwhatitwasliketolieawakestaringattheceiling,feelingtheirdeathlygoddessovertheirskin?
Myeyesfelltotheothersideoftheroom.
Thefigurewassostillthatmygazenearlypassedrightby.Butsomethingstrangeaboutthemmademepause,evenifatfirst,Ididn’tquiteknowwhy.Afterseveralsecondsofobservation,Irealizeditwasn’tanysinglething,butacollectionoflittleones.
Hestoodattheoppositesideoftheballroom,farbeyondallthedebaucheryofthedancefloor,hisbacktome.Hestaredatoneofthemanypaintingsthatadornedthewall.Icouldn’tseethedetailsfromthisdistance,butIknewthepaintingwell.Itwasthesmallestintheballroom,thecanvasnarrowandlong,star-dottedindigoblueatthetopthatgraduallydarkenedtodeepred.Itdepictedalonefigure:aRishanvampire,falling,frozenhalfwaytohisdeathinthecenteroftheframe.Hisnudebodywasmostlycoveredbydarkfeatheredwingssplayedoutaroundhim,saveforasingleoutstretchedhand,reachingdesperatelyforsomethingthathecouldseebutwecouldnot.
FewpiecesofRishanartworkremainedinthecastleaftertheriseoftheHiaj.MostofithadbeeneitherdestroyedorrepaintedtodepictHiajvampires.Ididn’tknowwhythisonesurvived.PerhapsitwasdeemedappropriatetokeepbecauseitportrayedaRishandoomed,fallingtothedepthsofhellevenashegraspedforthesky.
Thispiecegotlittleattentioncomparedtothemajesticepicsaroundit,celebrationsofbloodyjusticeortriumphantvictory.Itwasquiet.Sad.ThefirsttimeIsawit,whenIwasonlyachild,mychesthadtightened.Iknewwhatitfeltliketobepowerless.AndthissinglefallenRishan,cradledbywingsthatcouldnotfly,reachingforasaviorwhowouldnotreachback…itwastheonlyindicationI’deverseenthatvampirescouldknowwhatitwasliketobepowerless,too.
MaybethatwaswhyIfoundmyselfintriguedbythisfigure—becausehewaslookingatthispainting,whennooneelseeverdid.Hewastall—tallerthanevenmostothervampires—andbroad.Heworeadeeppurplejacketcuttightagainsthisframe,abronzesashwrappedaroundhiswaist.That,too,wasalittleoff.ThestylewassimilartothebrightsilksthatalltheotherNightbornwore,butthecutwasabittoosharp,thecontrastabittoobold.Hishairwasdarkred—nearlyblack—andfellacrosshisshouldersinroughwaves.Anunusuallength,neithertheflowingnorcroppedstylesfavoredbytheHouseofNight’scourt.
IcouldcountononehandthenumberofNightbornvampiresfrombeyondSivrinajthatI’dmet.Maybethestylesweredifferentintheouterreachesofthekingdom.Still…
Heglancedoverhisshoulder,directlyatme.Hiseyeswererust-red,astrikingenoughcolortobevisibleevenfromacrosstheroom.Hisgazewascasuallycurious.Still,theintensityofitskeweredme.
Somethingwasstrangehere,too.Something—
“Haveyoutriedthese?”
“Fuck.”
Ijolted.
Ihadn’theardthewomanapproach,whichwasbothembarrassinganddangerous.Shewastallandwillowy,withfrecklesscatteredoverbronzeskin,widedarkeyes,andahaloofcroppedblackcurlsaroundherhead.Shegrinned,ameatpastrydrippingpinkjuicesontoherfingertipsasshehelditouttome.
“Thisisdelicious.”
Ididn’tmuchlikevampiressayingtheword“delicious”whilestandingthatclosetome.Itooktwosmoothstepsaway.
“I’mfine.”
“Oh,you’remissingout.It’s—”
“Oraya.”
Vincentnevershouted.Hisvoicewasstrongenoughtocutacrossanyroom.Ilookedovermyshouldertoseehimatthearchedentrywaytotheballroom,noddingdownthehallinanunmistakablemessage:Let’sgo.
Hedidn’thavetotellmetwice.Ididn’tbotherbiddingthewomanagoodbyeasIstrodeafterhim,morethangratefultoleavethispitofclawsandteeth
Still,Ifoundmyselfcastingonemoreglancebacktothatpainting.Themanwasgone.ThefallenRishanjustgraspedatopenair,abandonedonceagain.CHAPTERFOUR
Ineverdrank.Vampirealcoholwasincrediblystrongforhumans,andthataside,itwasdangerousformetodullmysenses.Vincentrarelydid,either—probablyforthesamereasonsasme.SoIwassurprisedwhenhebroughtthewinetomychambers.Wetooktinysipsandthensetitaside,leavingituntouchedaswesatinsilence,listeningtothecracklingofthefire.
Finally,hespoke.“Ithinkyouareaspreparedasyoupossiblycouldbe.”
Hesoundedlikehewasmostlytryingtoconvincehimself.
“Theotherswillunderestimateyou,”hewenton.“Usethat.It’sapowerfulweapon.”
Hewasright.IhadlearnedlongagothatthebestweaponIhadwasmyownweakness.Iusedittokillalmosteverynightintheslums.Rightnow,itdidn’tfeellikeenough.
Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroat.Iwatchedmyfatherashelookedtothefire,redlightplayingoverthepale,hardanglesofhisface.HadhebeenthisnervousthenightheofferedhimselftohisownKejari?
“Isthatwhatyoudid?”Iasked.“Letthemunderestimateyou?”
Heblinked,takenaback.IrarelyaskedhimabouthistimeintheKejari.Irarelyaskedhimabouthispastatall.Maybethatsipofwine,ormynearly-inevitableimpendingdeath,mademealittlebold.
“Yes,”hesaid,afteramoment.“AnditwaslikelywhyIwon.”
ItseemedlaughablenowthatVincentwaseversomeonewhocouldbeunderestimated.Buttwohundredyearsago,hehadjustbeenayoung,lesserHiajnoble.TheHouseofNightwasunderRishancontrolthenandseemedlikeitwouldremainthatwayforcenturiesmore.
“Wereyounervous?”
“No.IknewwhatIhadtodo.”
Atmyvisibleskepticism,heliftedoneshoulderinanalmost-shrug.“Fine,”headmitted.“Iwasnervous.ButIknewtheKejariwasmyonlypathtoalifeworthremembering.Deathisn’tfrighteningwhenweighedagainstaninsignificantexistence.”
Aninsignificantexistence.
Thosewordshitmeunexpectedlyhard.Becausewhatexistencewasmoreinsignificantthanthis?Livinginconstantfear,hobbledbymyownbloodandmyownhumanweakness?Icouldneverbeanythingthisway,fightingsohardtosurvivethatIcouldneverdoanything.Couldneverbeanythingofworthto…tothepeoplewhohadnothingbutme.
Myjawclenchedsohardittrembled.Igrabbedmyglassandtookanothersipofwine,mostlybecauseIwasdesperatetodosomethingwithmyhands.IcouldfeelVincent’seyesonme.Couldfeelthesofteningofhisgaze.
“Youdonothavetodothis,mylittleserpent,”hesaidsoftly.“IrealizeonlynowthatperhapsInevertoldyouthat.”
ItwouldbealietosaythatIwasn’ttemptedtorunaway—temptedtohideinthespacebetweenthedresserandthewall,justasIhadwhenIwasasmallchild.Apartofmestillalwayswashiding,becauseIwasnevergoingtobeanythingotherthanprey.
No,thatwasnotalifeofsignificance.Itwasn’tevenalifeatall.
“I’mnotbackingout,”Isaid.
Ilookeddowntomyhand—tothedelicatesilverringonmyrightlittlefinger.Asimplebandwithablackdiamondsosmallitwasnobiggerthanthebanditself.
I’dhaditinmypocketwhenVincentfoundmeasachild.Ilikedtothinkitbelongedtomymother.Maybeitwasjustsomeworthlesstrinket.Iwouldprobablyneverknow.
Absentmindedly,Irubbedit.NoteventhattinymovementescapedVincent’sattention.
“Iwouldhavefoundthemforyou,ifIcould,”hesaid.“Ihopeyouunderstandthat.”
Apangrangoutinmychest.Ididn’tliketoopenlyacknowledgemyownhopes.Itmademefeel…stupid.Childish.EvenmoresotohearVincentreferencethemaloud.
“Iknow.”
“IfIeverhadanexcuse,iftherewaseverarebellion—”
“Vincent.Iknow.Iknowyoucan’tgothere.”Istoodandfrownedathim,andhiseyesfelltothefire,avoidingmine.
Fuck,itwasstrange,toseeVincentlooksomethingcloseto—toguilty
Twentyyearsago,VincentpulledmefromthewreckageinthewakeofahorribleRishanrebellion.ThecityIleftbehind,orwhatremainedofit,wasdeepwithinRishanterritory.TheonlyreasonwhyVincenthadentereditatalldecadesagowasbecausetheuprisinghadgivenhimlicenseto,butnow?ThatterritorywasprotectedbyNyaxia.AHiajkingcouldnotbreachitoutsideofwartimebetweentheclans,andthoughitwasridiculoustocallthiseternaltension“peace,”myfatherhadnoreasonableexcusetoinvadeandfindmyfamily.
Ifanyofthemhadsurvived.Likelynot.WhoeverhadbeeninthathousewhenVincentfoundmehadnotsurvived.Buthadtherebeenothers?DidIhaveanyoneouttheresearchingforme?
Iknewthelogicalanswer.Humanlivesweresofragile.Yetitstilldidn’tstopthedarkcornersofmymindfromwandering.Wonderingwheretheywere.Wonderinghowtheyhadsuffered.Wonderingifanyofthemrememberedme.
Ididn’trememberthem.MaybethatwaswhyImissedthemsomuch.Adreamcouldbewhateveryouneededittobe,andmaybethetwelve-year-oldversionofmyselfneededsavingthemtobethemissingpiecethatwouldfinallymakemefeelwhole.
“Soon,”Vincentmurmured.“Soonyou’llbestrongenoughtogo.”
Soon.
No,Vincentcouldn’tact,butIcould—ifIwassomethingstrongerthanhuman.Iwouldneedtobestronger,even,thanmostvampires.
IcoulddoitifIwasasstrongasVincenthimself.
ThiswouldbemywishfromNyaxia,ifIwontheKejari:tobecomeVincent’sCoriatae.Hisheart-bound.ACoriatisbondwasapowerfulthing—vergingonlegendary—onlygrantedahandfuloftimesinhistory,andonlyforgedbyNyaxiaherself.Itwouldstripawaymyhumanity,makingmeavampirewithouttherisksofTurning,whichendedindeathmorethanhalfofthetime.AnditwouldbindmysoultoVincent’s,hispowerbecomingmine,andminebecominghis.NotthatIhadmuchtoofferhim,ofcourse.Itwasatestamenttohisloveformethathewaswillingtooffermesuchagiftatall.
AshisCoriatae,Iwouldbepowerfulenoughtosavethefamilythathadbirthedmeandtobecomeatruedaughtertothemanthatraisedme.IwouldbeoneofthemostpowerfulpeopleintheHouseofNight.Oneofthemostpowerfulpeopleintheworld.
Andnoonewouldeverunderestimateme,everagain.
“Soon,”Iagreed.
Hegavemeafaintsmile,thenrose.“Areyouready?”
“Yes.”Butthewordwasashinmymouth.
IhadattemptedtopraytoNyaxiamanytimesovertheyears.Ineverfeltmuchofanything—maybebecause,asahuman,Iwasn’ttrulyoneofherchildren.ButasVincentbroughtthebowlandthejeweleddagger,asheslitmyhandandletmyweak,humanbloodrollintothehammeredgold,thehairprickledatthebackofmyneck.Vincentwhisperedprayersintheancienttongueofthegods,histhumbpressedtomywoundtosqueezedropafterdropintotheoffering.
Hiseyesflickeduptomeetmine.
“Nyaxia,MotherofRavenousDark,WombofNight,ofShadow,ofBlood.IgiveyouOrayaoftheNightborn.Sheisthedaughtermyheartgaveme,justasmyheartmademeyourson.HerpresenceintheKejariisthegreatestgiftIwilleverofferyou.”PerhapsIimaginedthathisvoicehadthickened,ever-so-slightly.“Save,perhaps,forhervictory.”
Fuck.Iwasnotexpectingthatthiswouldbesodifficult.
No,Iwasn’tmuchofadevotee.ButnowIfelttheGoddesshere,takingtheofferingofmybloodandpromisingmeonlymorebloodinreturn.Iwonderedifshemightjustkeeptaking,andtaking,andtaking,untilmypoormortalveinshadnothinglefttogive.
Thewordsthatwouldbindmyfatehungthickassmokeintheair.
“Ioffermyselftoyou,Nyaxia.Iofferyoumyblood,myblade,myflesh.IwillcompeteintheKejari.Iwillgiveyoumyvictory,orIwillgiveyoumydeath.”
Andthenthefinal,sealingwords:
“Ajasaraeta.”
Takemytruth.
“Ajasaraeta,”Vincentechoed,hisgazeneverleavingmine.
Drip,drip,drip,asmybloodslowlydrainedaway.
***
ItwasprobablyonlytheworkofthosetinysipsofwinethatIwasabletosleepatall.Eventually,dawnloomed,andVincentretired.Ilayinbed,staringatthestarspaintedonmyceiling.Thewoundonmyhandthrobbed.ItwouldlikelybeanotherfewdaysbeforetheKejaribegan,butmyofferingmadeitfeelsuddenlyrealinawayitneverhadbefore.
Itwasnearlysundownagainbythetimesheerexhaustionforcedmyeyestoclose,mybladestuckedbesideme.Justincase.
Whensleeptookme,restlessandanxious,Idreamedofsafety.
Ibarelyrememberedmyoldlife.Butdreamsweresogoodatfillinginmemoriesmoth-eatenbytime.Itwasasmearofsensations,likepaintstoo-watered-down.Alittleclayhousewithcrackedfloors.Anembraceinstrongarms,ascragglycheek,andthescentofdirtandsweat.Bloodlessfood—sickeninglysweet,absentoftheirontang—crumblingovermytongue.
IdreamedofatiredvoicereadingmeastoryandtakingforgrantedthattherewouldbeahappyendingbecauseIdidnotknowofanyotherkind.
Ihatedthesedreams.Itwaseasiernottorememberthesethings,andthefactthattheyalwaysendedthesame.
Themoonlightstreamedthroughwindowslockedtight.Whenthevampirescame,wingsuponwingsuponwingsblottedoutthosestreaksofsilver.
Thetwootherlittlebodiesscrambledoutofbedtolookatthesky.Iwastooafraid.Ipulledtheblanketsovermyhead.
Putoutthefire,quick,thewomanhissed.Before—
Crack.Crack.CRACK.
Isqueezedmyeyesshutasthescreamsstarted,faraway,risingcloserandcloser.
Astheclayaroundmebegantotrembleandshake—asthefloorssplitandthewallscollapsedandthewomanscreamed,andscreamed,andscreamed—
CRACK.
***
CRACK.
ThescreamingfollowedmeasIwoke—somuchofitthatmyearscouldn’tseparatethevoices,couldn’tmakesenseofwheremydreamendedandrealitybegan
Myeyesopened,andmetonlyanimpenetrablewallofblack.Complete,utterdarkness,sothickitchokedme.Myhandsflewout,graspingatnothing.
Myfirstdisorientedthoughtwas,Whydidmylanternsgoout?Ineverletmylanternsgoout.
Andthen,tooslowly,IrealizedIwasnotinmyroom.Thescentofmustandbloodburnedmynostrils.Mypalmspressedtotheground.Hard,dustytile.
Thepainfulreminderofthefreshwoundofmyofferingcutthroughmyaddledmind.DreadroseasIpiecedittogether.
No.Itwastooearly.Ishouldhavehadafewmoredays,Ishouldhavehad—
ThememoryofVincent’svoiceunfurledinmymind:
Itcouldhappenatanymoment.Shelikestodosomethingunexpected.
Ipushedmyselfupright.Panicspiked,butIforceditintosubmission.No,Icouldnotaffordtopanic.Becausethiswasit.
Thiswasit.
TheKejarihadbegun.INTERLUDE
Thelittlegirldidnotspeakfordays.TheKingoftheHouseofNightgaveheraroomrightnexttohis,onthemostsecluded,well-protectedfloorofhiscastle.Everythingaboutthisplaceoverwhelmedher.Herbedroomathomehadbeensharedwithabrotherandasister,herbedjustatinycotstoredbeneaththestackedframesofhersiblings’.Here,thefloorswerenotmadeofwarm,roughclaybuthardmosaictilethatfrozehertoes.Everythingwassobig.Thebedalonewasnearlythesizeofherentireroombackhome.
And,ofcourse,thereweremonsterseverywhere.
Shetuckedherselfintothecorner,wedginghertinybodybetweenthedresserandthewall,andrefusedtomove.
TheKingoftheHouseofNightsatinthearmchairattheoppositesideofthechamber,reading.Herarelyleft,andneveracknowledgedher.Thelittlegirlwouldonlyleaveherhidingspotintheraremomentshewasgone—torelieveherselforscarfdownafewbitesofthefoodleftforher.Assoonassheheardhisfootstepsdownthehall,shewouldreturntohercorner.
Aweekpassed.
Andanother.
Andanother.
Andatlast,whenthemoonwasfullintheskyagain,thechild,fightinghungerpangs,creptfromherspottowardstheplateofbreadonthetable.Hersilver-coinstareneverlefthim,evenasherlittlefingersclosedaroundthebreadandshenibbleditinslow,tentativebites,backingaway.
Notamusclemovedsaveforhiseyes,whichflickedtoherandremainedthere.Eventhatwasenoughtomakeherbackfartherintotheshadows.
Helaughedsoftly.
“Doyoufeelunsafehere,littleserpent?”
Thegirlstoppedchewingandsaidnothing.
Thekingsethisbookdowngently.
“Good.Youarenotsafe.Notinthiscastle.Notinthisroom.Youarepreyinaworldofpredators.”
Heleanedcloser.
“Iwillneverhurtyou,”hesaidsoftly.“ButIamtheonlyonewhowillmakethatpromise,andkeepit.Iwillnevergiveyoufalsesafetyorkindlies.ButIwillteachyouhowtowieldthoseteethofyours.”Hesmiled,revealingforthefirsttimethefulllengthofhissharpcanines—thedeathblow,surely,ofhundreds.
Thegirlshouldhavefoundthissightterrifying.Andyet,forthefirsttimeinamonth,shefelt…safe.
“Perhapstheyarenotassharpasmine,”hewenton,“buttheycanstillkill,withtherightbite.”
Evensoyoung,thegirlunderstoodwhathewasofferingher.Livinginaworldlikethis,onehadtolearnsuchthingsearly.
“Willyoudomethehonorofofferingmeyourname?”
Atlast,thechildspoke.
“Oraya.”
“It’sapleasuretomeetyou,Oraya.”Herose,andthistime,shedidn’tbackaway.Hereachedouthishand.“I’mVincent.”CHAPTERFIVE
Iforcedmyselftosteadymybreaths.Panicquickenedtheheart.Aquickeningheartbeatmeantrushingblood.RushingbloodmeantIbecameevenmoreofatargetthanIalreadywas.
Nyaxia’smagicwaspowerfulandinexplicable.Shecouldspiritusawaywherevershepleased.Myheadwasstillfuzzy,everysensationhazy.Istruggledtogetmybearings.ItfeltlikeIhadbeendrugged.
Takestockofyoursenses,Oraya.
ThevoiceinmyheadwasVincent’s.
Smell—bloodandmust.Ifthetournamenthadbegun,thenIhadtobeintheMoonPalace.Ipressedmyhandstothefloor.Afinelayerofdirtandduststucktomypalms.TheMoonPalaceexistedsolelyforthiscompetition.Itwouldn’thavebeentouchedforahundredyears.
NoonewasallowedwithinthesewallsoutsideofaKejari,butIhadstudieditmanytimesfromtheoutside.Ineededtogoup.Thetallestspirewascoveredinwindows.Novampirewouldbecaughtthereoncedawnbroke.Thelightwouldbeextremelyuncomfortable,ifnotdeadly.
Sound.Myearsstrained.Screamsofpainechoedfromalldirections—screamsthatdidn’tsoundliketheybelongedtovampires.Mystomachturned.HadhumansbeendroppedintothePalace,too?As…prey?Distraction?Ididn’tknowwhethertobehorrifiedorsecretlygratefulthattheywoulddrawthevampires’bloodlust.AndIcouldhearthathappening,too.Thesnarls.Thedistant,gracefulbeatoffootstepsagainstthefloor.
Theotherswereawake.MaybemyhumannesshadmeantIwasthelasttorisefromwhatevermagichadbeencastoverus.Itmayhaveloweredinhibitions—thevampiressoundedabnormallyanimalistic,evenbythestandardsofabloodlustfrenzy.
Iwasvery,veryluckyIwasaliverightnow.
Iblinkedintothedarkness.Unlikevampires,Ihadnonightsight.Icouldn’tseeanything.Justawallofblack.Itriedtocalllighttomyfingertipsandfailedmiserably,releasingonlyasinglesparkthatquicklydissipatedintosmoke.
Ibitbackasilentcurseformyuselessmagicandgropedaroundformyblades,prayingtheyhadmadethejourneywithme.IfIhadbeendumpedinhereunarmed,Iwasdead.
Searingpainslicedacrossmyhand.
FUCK.
Iclampedmylipsdownonthecry.
I’dfoundmyblade.Bythesharpend.Fuckingidiot
Warmbloodfilledmypalm.Thedulldrip,drip,dripofithittingthetilefloorwasdeafening,evenoverthedistantscreams.
Bleedingwasbad.Verybad.
Ihadtomovefasttofindsafetybeforesomeonescentedme.Igrabbedonedagger—bythehiltthistime—andfoundtheothernotfarfromit.ThenIroseandcarefullysteppedbackuntilmyshouldermetstone.Ifollowedthewall,keepingmyarmagainstit,bladespoisedandreadyineachhand.Mystepsweresilentanddeliberate.Whenmytoehitacold,hardblock,myheartleapt.
Astep.Awayup.IhadtopraythisstaircasewouldtakemewhereIneededtogo.Ihadnootheroption—notthisblinded.
Istartedclimbing,clingingtoadustymetalrailsideways,somybackwasn’tleftunguarded.
I’dheardstoriesthattheMoonPalacewasamagical,mysteriousplace,blessed—orcursed—byNyaxiaherself.EvenVincentbelievedit.Hetoldmethathallwaysmovedandroomsshifted.Thatithadawayofputtingyouexactlywhereyoudidordidn’twanttobe,dependingonyourluckthatday.
Ipromisethatifyouletmesurvivethis,Nyaxia,IwillmakethisKejarithemostinterestingandgloriousperformanceforyouinamillennium,ItoldtheGoddess,silently.Youaregoingtobesofuckingimpressed.Iswearit.
Thescreamsfadedslowlyintothedistance,tomyrelief.Iwasmovingawayfromthem.Good.Icontinuedclimbing—oneflight,two,three.
ButtheMoonPalacewasn’tabouttoletmegothateasily.
Atfirst,IthoughtIwasimaginingit.Myearsstrainedsomuch;itbecameeasytodoubtmyownsenses.Butasmystepscontinued,theballofdreadinmystomachswelled.No.Iwasright:thescreamsweregettingcloseragain.Eventhoughminutesagotheyhadbeenfadingfarbehindme.LikeI’dbeenclimbinganever-endingspiralstaircasethatwentnowhere.
InearlystumbledasmyfeetmetflattilewhereIexpectedanotherstep.Thesoundsofcarnageechoeddirectlyaboveme.Icouldn’tkeepascending.Iwastrapped.
Ipressedtothewall.Myeyesstilluselesslystaredintoavatofpitchblack.Whatnow?WhatcouldI—
Onevoiceinthatdistantcacophonycutthroughalltheothers.
Inolongerhadtoregulatemyheartbeat,becauseitsimplystopped.
Thescreamwascutshort,buriedbeneathsomanyotherdistantvoices.ButIrecognizedit,eveninthatsplitsecond.Irecognizeditasthevoicethataffectionatelycalledmealittlebrat,punctuatedbyahuskycoughfromyearsofincessantcigarsmoking.
Mymindemptiedexceptforonename:
Ilana
Youneverknow—nottruly—whatittakestomakeyoudiscardcautionuntilit’shappening.AndIlanawasenough.Ileftalifetimeofvigilancepiledonthegroundlikeaforgottencoat.
Ilana.IlanawasinthisPalace.Ilanawasinthatfrenzy.
Anotherscream,thistimelouder,closer,rightdownthehall,asifthefuckingplacewastauntingmewithit.AndIdidn’tthink,couldn’tthink,Ijustran—
—Untilapowerfulforcestoppedme.Astronggripfoldedaroundmyshoulders,pullingmebackagainstafirmwallofabody.
“They’redead.”
Theman’swhisperwaslowandgravelly,soclosethathisexhaletickledmyskin.Stubblescratchedmyear,abrushofhairgrazingthedipwheremyneckmetmyshoulder.Everyinstinctrevoltedatthisperson’sproximity,attheirnearnesstomythroat—aplacethatnoonebutVincentwasallowedtogo.
“They’redead,littlehuman,”thevoicesaidagain.“Andifyougoafterthem,soareyou.”
He’sright,theMoonPalaceseemedtohum,thedarknessshiveringindelight.
AndIknewit.Iknewit,evenasanotherraggedshoutofagonyrangout,closerthanever.
Iknewitanddidn’tgiveafuck.
Ididn’tbotherfightingagainstthegraspthatheldme.Itwouldn’twork.Hewastoostrong.
SoIstabbedthebastard.
Apparentlyhewasn’texpectingthat,becausehehissed,“Ix’sfuckingtits!”andstaggeredawayfromme.IhadburiedmyknifedeepenoughinhisthighthatIhadtoyankhardtopullitout,andthenIwassprintingdownthehall,fingertipstothewalltoguidemyself.
Anotherscream.Louder.Moredesperate.Mother,itwasawful,howvampiressoundedwhentheywerewellandtrulyinabloodlust.Youcouldhearthemrippingaparttheflesh.Itwasn’tquiet,itwasn’telegant,itwasn’tgraceful.Itwasloudandmessyandhorrible.
Iwantedtocallouttoher,wantedtotellherIwascomingforher,butIcouldn’t—itwouldonlyattractattentiontomyposition.Isettledinsteadforquickenedsteps.AsfastasIcouldmove.
Ilana’swailsdidnotgrowfartheraway.Buttheydidnotgrowcloser,either.Theyjustremainedforeverbeyondme,justoutsidethereachofmyblade,asIrandownhallwayafterhallwayafterhallway.
Thetruthdawnedonmewitheveryfootstep.Herproximitywasanillusion.Iwouldneverreachher.Hervoicewasgrowingweaker,hercriesfewerandfartherbetween.
Still,Ipushedonemorestep,onemorestep.
Onemorestep,astheshrieksrosetoacrescendo.
Onemorestep,astheyloweredtoawetgargle.
Asthegarglebecameaweakmoan.
Asthatfamiliarvoicedisappearedbeneaththesoundsoffeedingvampires,lookingforsomethingnewtooccupythem.
Eventually,Istopped,myribsachingandeyesstraining.Ipressedmyselfagainstthewall.Squeezedmyeyesshut,darknessfallingdeeperintodarkness.Myheartbeat,mypreciousblood,rusheddeafeninglyinmyears.
They’redead,thevoicehadwhispered.Andifyougo,soareyou.
Hewasright.AndIhadneverhatedanythingsomuch.Ilivedalifeofuglytruths,hadgottenusedtothem—butthisone—Mother,thisone,itjust—
ThehairsroseonthebackofmyneckasIfeltapresencebehindme.Thefootstepswerenearlysilent.Iturnedjustintime.
“Whatdowehavehere?”alow,smoothfemalevoicewhispered.
Ididn’twaitthistime.Istruck—hard,andintheexactdirectionofthevoice.Iwouldn’twininafight.Ididn’twaitforhertoretaliate.Isprinted,fingertipstouchingthewalljustenoughtokeepmefromrunningintoit.Someskirmishbrokeoutbehindme—Iwasn’tabouttostopandthinkaboutwhatitcouldbe,or,Goddessforbid,joinit.Themoretheyfoughtwitheachother,thelesstheywouldcomeafterme.
Atfirst,IthoughtIwasimaginingthefaintsilveroutlinebeforeme.MaybemystrainingeyeswerejustinventingwhatIsodesperatelywantedtosee.
Butno,itwasnoillusion.AwallofhumidairhitmeasIstumbledthroughathreshold.MyhandbledsoheavilythatIstruggledtogripthehiltofmyblade.Mymusclesscreamedatme.Icouldbarely,barelymakeoutthefaintoutlineof—of—
Leaves.
Iliftedmyeyestoseestars.Itwasanovercastnight,black-graycloudscoveringmostofthesky.Butasthewindshifted,sliversoflightpeeredthrough.Themoon,nearlyfull,stoodinmournfulwatch.Wrought-ironwhorlscradledglasswalls,risingintoadomethatculminatedinasilvercrescent.
Theearthyscentofdampsoilwashedoverme.
Agreenhouse.Thiswasagreenhouse.
IpushedmywaythroughthedensefoliageuntilIhitthefarthestwall.Icouldseealittle,now,withthehelpofthemoonlight.Sivrinaj’sskylinetoweredinthedistancetomyright,andtomyleft,dunesrolledinelegantswellsanddips.Andthere,wherethesandkissedthehorizonline,wasafaintstreakofpurple.
Dawn.
Iwouldneedtosurvivehereforanotherhour,yes,butthemomentitarrived,thisgreenhousebecamethesafestplaceIcouldpossiblybe.Noonecouldhidefromthesuninhereforlong.
IgrippedmyweaponstightasIsankintotheshadowsbetweentheleaves.Iwouldbeabletohearthemovementofwhoevercamein,evenifIcouldn’tseethem.Thesoundsoffeedinghadquieted,asifthePalacehaddecidedthatithadtiredofmyhorror.Orperhapsthevampireshadsimplytiredofgorgingthemselves.
Ibarelyblinked,staringatthesingledoorintothegreenhouse,asthesun—mysavior—rosetomeetme.CHAPTERSIX
IwaiteduntilthesunwassostrongbeadsofsweatgatheredonthebackofmyneckbeforeIcreptfrommyhidingplace.Indaylight,thegreenhouselookedlikearelicfromapastworld—fittingly,maybe,becauseinawayitwas.Theplantshadlongagobrokenfreefromtheirelegantcontainments.Bright,spiky,redleavesburstfrombetweencrumblingcracksofstone.Vinesstrangledfacelesswornstatues.Ivycrawledupthepatinaedmetalworkallthewayuptothecurvedglassoverhead,encirclingasinglemissingpanel—asifdemandingrelease.
Istaredupatthatonegapingglimpseoftheskyforalongmoment.Itwasunreachable,attheverytopofthehighestpointofthedome.Notthatitmattered.Thewallsweren’twhatkeptushere—ouroathtoNyaxiadid,andshewouldkillusifwetriedtoevadeit.
ItwassilentintheMoonPalace.Afterthechaosofthenightbefore,whoeversurvivedappearedtohaveholedup,restingandpreparingbeforetheofficialstartofthetrials.Still,Ikeptmybladesready.Vampireswouldprobablynotcomeintothegreenhouseduringdaylighthours,buttheywouldhavenoproblemmovingaboutsolongastheydidn’tsunthemselvesinthewindows.
EitherIhadbeenhallucinatinglastnightorthelegendsabouttheMoonPalacewereindeedtrue,becausethelayoutofthebuildingwasnowverydifferent.Thedoortothegreenhouserevealedalonghallwaythatledtoagreatroom,whichopenedupallthewaytothetopofthePalace—countlessstories.Ilookeduptoseebalconyafterbalconyafterbalconyrisingaboveme,climbingsohighandgrowingsosmallthattheyresembledlittledecorativewispsofsilvernearthedistantdomedceiling.Grandmosaicscoveredthefloor.Thetilesweresharp,asiftheyhadbeenshatteredratherthancut.Somewerebleachedshadesofivory.Butmostwerered…bloodstained.Burnedbrownacenturyold,anddeepblackevenolder.Thestainsfromlastnightweresickeninglybrightincontrast,evenastheynowdrieddowntoarustycrimson.
Ididn’tknowhowIknewwheretogo.Perhapsonceagain,thePalaceledmewhereitpleased.Itraveledupthestairs,notdown,eventhoughIcouldhaveswornIhadbeenclimbingthenightbefore.WhenIhitthethirdfloor,thesmellhitme—rottingfleshanddeath.Apoolofcongealingbloodseepedfromaroundthecorner.
Ifollowedthesmellandtheblood.
Someofthedoorsupherehadbeenbarred.Perhapstheseroomshadbeenclaimedbymyfellowcontestants.IwascarefulnottowakeanyoneasImovedpastlifelesscarcasses.
IfoundtheoneIwaslookingforonthebalcony,wherethemazeofhallwaysgavewaytoagreatopenspacethatoverlookedthedroptothefirstfloorbelowandthedizzyingheightofthefulltowerabove.Shewasnottheonlyhumanthere.Threeothercorpseswerestrewnoverthetile,somemissinglimbsordefacedfarbeyondrecognition.
AndIlana…
Shedidn’tevenlookhumananymore.Didn’tevenlooklikeacorpse.Shejustlookedlikemeat.IrecognizedheronlybecauseIhadknownhersowell.Theyhadmostlyleftherbrightclothingon,tatteredandtorn,thebluenowpurplewithherblood.Notthatanybloodwasleftinhermutilatedbodyatall,atthispoint.Theyhadmadesureofthat.Theydidn’tletanyofitgotowaste.
Once,asachild,Iwatchedapackofwolvesripapartadeer.Theywerestarving—everyoneandeverythingwasstarving,backthen.Theydidn’tevenwaituntilthepoorthingwasdeadbeforetheytoreittopieces.Thatwashowvampiresactedinbloodlust.Thatwaswhattheyhaddonetomyfriend.
Ikneeledbesideher.Herfacewasmostlymissing,butIcradleditanyway.
Youweresupposedtoleave.Youweresupposedtoleave,youstupid,stubbornoldbitch.
Butthenagain,Ilanahadneverdonewhatshewassupposedto.Hadneverdonewhatthisworldtoldhersheneededto.Itwaswhathaddrawnmetoherfromthebeginning.
Ihadbeenfourteen.Ihadatlastsettledintomyunsteadyplaceintheworld,buthadalsobeguntofeelthechafeofitsboundaries.Vincentneverallowedmeanywherenearhisparties,butthatnight,whilehewasoffentertainingatsomediplomaticevent,IslippeddownstairseventhoughIknewitwasfoolish.Iwentoutside,keepingwallsbetweenmeandtheguests,andstoleglancesthroughthewindowsatthepartywithin.ItwasfromsuchadistancethatIcouldonlyglimpsemovingbodies,butIwastoocautioustogoanycloser.
“Whatareyousoafraidof,creepingaroundlikearatoverthere?”
Ilana’svoice—alreadyroughandhoarse,evenallthoseyearsago—hadmademejump.Shewatchedme,acigarinherfingersandamusedgrinatherlips.
Rightaway,Ihadknownshewasn’tavampire.Ilanahadalwaysbeensobrightly,vividlyhuman.Ihadseenitfromthatveryfirstmoment,anditwaswhathadtransfixedme.
Ihadshiedawayintotheshadows,andshescoffed.
“You’retooyoungandprettytobesofrightenedoftheworld.It’ssorareImeetaninterestinghumanaroundhere.Come,come.”
I’dhesitated,knowingthatIshouldn’t,thatVincentwouldnotapprove.ButIhadnotsomuchasspokentoanotherhumansincecomingtoSivrinaj,andthefewbloodvendorsI’dseeninthehallsweresilentwraithswithemptyfaces.Nothinglikethewomanbeforemenow.
Iwastoocurious.Iwenttoherthatnight,andthenmanyothers.Ilanabecamemylittlerebellion.Icultivatedafriendshipwithher,findingcomfortinallthewaysshewaslikemeandallthewaysIwishedIcouldbemorelikeher.Shehadmadeatiny,tinypartofmebelievethattherewasanotherversionofahumanlifethantheoneIlived.
Now,asIstareddownathercorpse,allhervivacioustenacitysnuffedout,thefragileremnantsofthatbeliefshattered.
Therewasnootherversionofhumanity.Ilanashouldhavebeenmoreafraid.Shewashuman,andthatmeantshewasworthnothinghere.TheKejarihadstartedearly.Themoonhadbeenalmostfull,butnotquite.Twelvehourswerethedifferencebetweenhersafetyandherdeath.
Afuckinganimal’sdeath.Becausethatwasallshehadbeentothem.
Atiny,muffledsoundmademyheadsnapup.Silently,Iroseandpeeredaroundthecornertoseeafigureslumpedagainstthewall.ThevampirewassolistlessthatatfirstIthoughthewasdead,butno—hewassleeping.Reddribbleddownhischinandthefrontofhisonce-blueshirt.Hehadn’tbotheredtohidehiswings.HewasRishan,hisdark-brownfeatherssurroundinghimlikeablanket.
Theothers,apparently,hadfled.Orperhapsthisonegorgedhimselfonhisown,andthatwaswhyhesleptsounnaturallysoundly.Hisgluttonywasstupid.Overeatingmadevampiressluggish.
Hedidn’tevenstirwhenIapproached.NordidhemovewhenItookmydaggerandplungeditintohischest—pushingharduntilthecartilagecracked,pushinguntilthebladepiercedhisheart.
Then,hiseyesfinallysnappedopen.
Good.
Ilikedtowatchitwhentheyrealizeddeathwascomingforthem.Thisonepissedhimselfwhenhewent.Ipulledhimclose,caressedhisfacewithmyred-stainedhands,andmadesureIlana’sbloodmarkedhimasIlethimslumpdowninapuddleofhisowncowardice.
Ihadneverdespisedmyhumanitysomuch.TheweaknesshadbeenIlana’sdeathsentence.Weweresofragile,soweak,thateventhispieceofshitvampirewipedoutawholelifeasifitmeantnothing.
Myhandsshook.Myheartbeatpoundedinmyears,numbanddistant,asifmyrageandgriefbubbledbeneathasheetoficeonthebrinkofshattering.
IreturnedtoIlanaandfishedthroughherpockets.First,Ipulledoutafamiliarballed-upscarfofpurplesilk.Istaredatit,fightingalumpinmythroat,beforetuckingitintomyownpack.ThenIreturnedforherboxofmatches.Sheneverwentanywherewithoutthem.
Herbodywassodry,skinsopapery.Sheburnedeasily,acceptingtheflamelikeanotherbrightlycoloredsilk.
Ileftheronthatbalconyandwentbackdownstairstothegreenhouse.TheMoonPalacewasdark,theopenairofthegreatroomrisingallthewayuptothetop.Thefirelitallofit.Inthegreenhouse,Idrewmykneestomychestandwatchedthatglowflickerbeyondthedoubledoors,asmyfriendburnedandburnedandburned.CHAPTERSEVEN
Comenightfall,acallrangoutthroughthehallsoftheMoonPalace—threemelancholynotesofNyaxia’shymn.Atthesound,Ipeeredthroughthefoliagetoseeasingle,smokythreadofshadowleadingthroughthegreenhousetothedoorandintothehallwaybeyond.
Themessagewasobvious:Iwasbeingsummoned.
MyeyesweresandyandmyjointsachingwhenIroseandfollowed.Ilana’sbloodless,torn-upfacestilllingeredbehindeveryblink.Ihadclutchedthatpurplescarfallnight,thebloodfrommywoundedhandsoakingthesilk.
Ididn’tcry.No.Iwasfuckingfurious.Sadnesswasafutile,weakemotion.Atleastangerwasuseful—asharpedgetocutanother’sheart,orahardshelltoprotectyourown.
Thethreadofshadowgrewthickerasmorestreaksjoinedthemaincorridor.Thesummonshadbeensent,itseemed,toeverycontestantwhohadsurvivedthepreviousnight.TheMoonPalacewasnotpitchdarkasithadbeenbefore.Now,warmlightrippledoverthehall,emanatingfromthetorchesliningthewallsandthecandlesthatfloatedaboveusinthevaultedceilings.AsIwalked,Iwatchedthatlightshiveroverthenot-quite-smoothmosaictileandfeltfoolishwhenIrealizedwhatIhadn’tduringtheday:thefloorsweremadeofshatteredboneandteeth.
Thegroupofusgrewlargeraswemoveddownthehallway,moreandmorejoiningwitheachturnordoorwaywepassed.Wesizedeachotherupsilently.Bythetimewereachedourdestination—thegreatroom—therewere,bymyroughestimation,aboutfiftycontestants.MostwereclearlymembersoftheHouseofNight—anevensplitbetweenHiajandRishan,basedonthosewhohadtheirwingsout—butIcountedabouttenmembersoftheHouseofBlood,andfifteenorsomembersoftheHouseofShadow.Somelookedaroundanxiously.Sizinguptheircompetition?Orsearchingforsomeonewhowasmissing?
Howmanyofushaddiedlastnight?
Mostignoredeachother,thoughtheBloodbornvampiresremainedclosetogetherinonetightpack.Thatmadesense,Isupposed.Nooneelsewouldhavethem.Ieyedthewomanatthecenteroftheirgroup.Shewastallerthanalltheothers.Herarmorlefthershouldersbare,revealingimpressivelycutmuscles.Herhairhunginalongsilverbraiddownherback.Shehadtobetheirleader,judgingbyhowtheothersdeferredtoher.
Ihungback,watchingmycompetitionwithalumpinmythroat.I’dspentmyentirelifetryingtoavoidbeinginthissituation:trappedwithpowerfulvampirewarriorstwicemysize.
Acrosstheroom,Ibrihimcaughtmygaze.Hegavemeagrim,humorlessalmost-smile,asifmaybeheknewwewereboththinkingthesamething.
Onthebalcony,atall,thinmanwithabaldheadandwanskinstretchedtightoverhisskullregardedus.Heworesimpleblackrobesandasashacrosshisbodythatborethreesigils:amoon,amask,andaweepingwoman—thesymbolsofthethreekingdomsofNyaxia.Thechurchwasindependentofthethreevampirehouses,operatingacrossallNyaxia’ssubjectsasanebulouslypowerfulandmysteriousforce.MostpowerfulandmysteriousofallwastheMinistaerhimself,whowassaidtonotevenbealivingbeinganymore,butmerelyaflesh-vesselforNyaxia’swill.
This,tome,soundedlikebullshit.
ItwasimpossibletofollowtheMinistaer’sgaze—hiseyesweresolidmilky-white,withnoirisorpupil—buthischinlowered,andIcouldn’tshaketheskin-crawlingsensethathelookeddirectlyatme.
Imetthatstarewithoutflinching,eventhoughIwantedtoshudderandlookaway.
TheMinistaerdidn’tespeciallyseemliketheembodimentofagod.Hemostlyseemedlikealecherousoldman.I’dmethimafewtimesatvariousreligiousfeasts.Nomatterhowbigthecrowd,hewasalwaysfar,fartoointerestedinme.AfteronenightwhenhepracticallytrappedmeinacornerwhenIwasthirteenyearsold,Vincentneverleftmysidewhenhewasinmypresenceeveragain.
IfNyaxianeededaflesh-vessel—whichsheprobablydidn’t—thisonedidn’tseemlikeawisechoice.
SeveralotheracolytesjoinedtheMinistaeronthebalconytohisright,andtohisleftwastheleadershipoftheHouseofNight—VincentandhisCabinet.Heworealong,darkcloakembroideredwithsilverstars.Hiswingswereondisplay,thethreadsofredstarkagainsttheblack,andheevenexposedhisHeirMark,leavingseveralbuttonsatthetopofhisjacketundonetorevealtheswirlsofredinkonhisthroat.
Theintentwouldnotbelostonanyonehere.SimplyrevealinghiswingsandhisMarkservedasawarning:Iamstrongerthananyofyou.Istoodwhereyoustood,andIwon.
ItwasoddtoseeVincentflauntinghispowersobrazenly,butmaybeitshouldn’thavebeensurprising.RulersoftheHouseofNightoftenkilledtheKejari’svictors.Anyonethatstrongwasinherentlyathreat.AndasIlookedaroundtheroom,somanyofthesebloodthirstywarriorsstaredatVincentwithsuchlustfulhate.
IfeltabitnaivefornotrealizingearlierVincent’sotherselfishreasonforencouragingmetoentertheKejari:ifIwon,itmeantthesepeoplewouldn’t.Andtherewasabsolutelynooneinthisworld—notasinglesoul—thatVincenttrusted,exceptforme.
TheMinistaerclearedhisthroat,andaneeriehushfellovertheroom.
“Welcome,”theMinistaersaid,“totheKejari,thegreatesthonorinthenameofourladyNyaxia,MotheroftheRavenousDark,WombofNight,ofShadow,ofBlood.Inhername,Ithankyoufortheofferingofyourpresence.Ajasaraeta.”
“Ajasaraeta.”Theechoingprayerrosefromthecontestantsinamistymurmur.
“Ihaveoverseentwenty-oneKejaris,now,”hewenton.“TwothousandyearsoftributetoourMotheroftheRavenousDark.Andeverytime,thiseveistheonethatisthemostmeaningful.Suchpossibility.Suchpotential.”
Atoo-longsilenceashesurveyedus.Then:“Youhavesurvivedtheinitialcall,andtheinitialcull.Atsundowntomorrow,theKejariofficiallybegins.Itwillcontinueforthenextfourmonths.Whenyoumadeyouroaths,yougaveourDarkMotheryourlife.Yougaveheryourblood.Yougaveheryoursoul.Andsheshallkeepallthree.Evenifyousurvivethetrials,apartofyoushallalwaysbelongtoher.Ajasaraeta.”
“Ajasaraeta,”weallrepeated.
“Therewillbefivetrials,eachdesignedtopaytributetothestoryofourgoddess’sescapefromtheclutchesoftheWhitePantheonandrisetopower.TheFullMoontrial.TheWaningtrial.TheHalfmoontrial.TheCrescenttrial.TheNewMoontrial.Eachtrialwilltakeplacethreeweeksaftertheprior.Thedetailsofeachtestshallberevealedasitbeginsandnotbefore.FortheentirelengthoftheKejari,youshallresidehere,intheMoonPalace.Youmayleaveitswallsbetweensundownandsunrise,ifitpleasesNyaxia,butyoumustalwaysbewithinitsdoorscomedawn.Countlessworshippershavelivedherebeforeyou.Countlessotherswillcomelongafteryourbloodhasdriedfromthefloors.ThroughtheMoonPalace,Nyaxiashallprovideforyouassheseesfit.”
Assheseesfit.Thatsoundedappropriatelyominous.TheMoonPalaceprovidedshelter,food,water—untilitdidn’t.Itprovidedsafety—untilitdidn’t.TheMoonPalacewasnotaplaceofrest.Itwasatrialallitsown.
“RegardingthespillingofbloodwithintheMoonPalace…”
Ididn’tknowitwaspossiblefortheroomtogetevenmorebreathlesslysilent.Wehadall,itseemed,beenwaitingforthis.Sometimes,Kejaricontestantswereforbiddenfromkillingeachotheroutsideoftrials.Otheryears,nosuchrestrictionexisted.
ThatwasthethingabouttheKejari.Ithaditsrulesandconventions,yes,butitwasalittledifferenteveryyear,subject,likesomanythings,toNyaxia’swhims.
“Youmaydefendyourselfagainstaggressors,”theMinistaersaid.“However,theGoddessappreciatesthegiftofbloodwithinhertrials.”
Whatthehelldidthatmean?
Iwasn’ttheonlyonewondering.Bodiesshifteduncomfortably—eyesscannedtheroominconfusion.Thiswordingwas…unhelpful.
TheGoddessappreciatesthegiftofbloodwithinhertrials.
Didthatmean,Trytowaittokilleachotheruntilthere’sanaudience,ifyoucan?Ifnot,ohwell!
Ordidthatmean,SaveitforthetrialsandfaceNyaxia’swrathifyoudon’t?
Icouldn’tdecidewhichIpreferred.Ifkillingwasoutlawedthisyear,itmightallowmeatleastalittlebitofpeacewithintheMoonPalace’swalls—maybe,giventhelureofmyhumanblood.Thenagain,itmightbeeasierformetopickoffmyopponentswhentheyweren’texpectingitthanitwouldbeinthering.
“YoubindyourselftotheseruleswhenyouofferyoursoultoNyaxiainserviceoftheKejari,”theMinistaersaid.“Andyoushallabidebythemuntilthemomentthetournamentconcludes,oruntilthemomentshereleasesyoufromyouroath.Ajasaraeta.”
“Ajasaraeta,”wemurmured.
“YouwillbesummonedatsundowntomorrowfortheFullMoontrial.MaytheMotherguideyou.”
TheMinistaerliftedhishand,asifcastingsomegreatinvisibleblessingoverusall,andturnedawaywithoutanotherword.Therewasnofinalspeech,noinspiringgoodbye,nowrought-outprayer.
Witheeriesilence,thedoubledoorsbeneaththebalconyswungopen,revealingwhatappearedtobeadiningroom.Aboveus,thepriestsandpriestessesfiledaway.Vincentcaughtmygazejustbeforehewentwiththem.Anunspokenagreementpassedbetweenus.Heinclinedhischin,andInoddedinresponsebeforefollowingtheothersthroughthedoubledoors.
***
ThefeastinthedininghallputtheoneatVincent’spartytoshame.I’dspentmanyofthedaylighthourscombingthroughthegreenhousetryingtoidentifyedibleplants,justincase—Iwasn’tsurewhetherwewouldbegivenfoodatall,andifso,whetheranyofitwouldbesafeforhumans.Butdespitemyshakynervesandexhaustion,mymouthwateredatthesightofthespreadbeforeme.Twolongtableshadbeenlaidoutwithplatters,eachseatingperhapstwenty-fiveorthirtychairs.Weallfiledintotheroomandlingerednearthewalls,asifweallfearedthatthefeastmightexplodeifwegottooclosetoit.
Finally,atallHiajmanmuttered,“Fuckit,”satdown,andseizedagobletofblood.Thatwasenoughtobreakthetension.Thecrowddescendeduponthefeast.Igrabbedaplate,hastilypileditwithfoodthatatleastappearedtobehuman-edible,andbackedaway,insteadchoosingtositatoneofthesmallendtablesscatteredaroundtheoutskirtsoftheroom.Abetterspotforwatching.
Somecontestantsgulpeddownbloodliketheythoughttheymightnevereatagain—afairconcern.Others,though,seemeduninterested,insteadstuffingprovisionsintotheirpocketsorpacks.
Mylipsthinned.Myfingerscurledtightenoughtoleavenailmarksinmypalm.
Ofcoursetheyweren’thungry.Theyhadgorgedthemselveslastnight.
Onlyoneignoredthefeastcompletely.Adark-hairedmanmovedabouttheroomfrenetically,circlingthetables.Irecognizedhim—I’dseehimlookingaround,abitpanicked,beforetheMinistaer’sspeech.Now,mysuspicionfromearlierbecameacertainty.Hewasclearlylookingforsomeone,andgrowingincreasinglyfranticwhenhecouldn’tfindthem.Afterthreequickeninglapsaroundthetable,heranoutthedoor,pushingroughlythroughtwoShadowbornwhoscowledafterhim.
Afewminuteslater,aferal,animalisticroarslicedthroughtheairlikeshatteringglass.
Everyheadsnappedup.Handswenttoweapons.Myowngrippedthehiltsofmyblades.
Myfirstthoughtwasthatitwassomesortofmonster.Thatthey’dlulledusintoafalsesenseofsecuritywiththismealandfiguredthey’dpickoffafewmoreofusbeforethetrialtomorrow.
Butno,itwasn’tamonsterthatcamebarrelingbackintothedininghall—itwasthedark-hairedman,howling,facemottledwithsheerrage.Irealizedthathisscreechingactuallyformedwords:“Mybrother!Theykilledmyfuckingbrother!”
Hiswingswereoutnow,outstretched,thefeathersmanydifferentshadesofbrown-black.
…JustlikethewingsoftheRishanmanwho’dbeencoveredinIlana’sblood
Andwhenthismanspunaround,hiseyeswild,IrealizedtheylookedjustliketheonesthathadstaredintominelastnightasIslowlysankmyknifeintohisheart.
Istiffened.
“Whofuckingdidit?”themanhowled.“YouthinkyoucankillanAjmaiandgetawaywithit?Whichoneofyoubastardsdidit?I’llfuckingkillyou!”
No,youcertainlywillnot.
Ialmost—almost—wantedtoconfesstoit.
Tomysurprise,Ibrihimwasthefirsttomove,risingfromhischairwithhispalmsup.“Easy,brother.Wedon’tneedanymoredeathbefore—”
“Brother?”themansnarled.“You’renotmyfuckingbrother.Mybrotherisdead.”
ThegroupofBloodbornsniggeredamongstthemselves,andIthoughtsurelythatwouldbethethingtosendthismanonamurderousrampage.Hismouthcontortedintoasharp-toothedsnarl,hisfistsquaking.Butjustashewasabouttolunge—atwhom,orwhat,evenhedidn’tseemtoknow—adeep,smoothvoicecamefromthefarcorneroftheroom.
“Oh,please.Itisn’tanyofourfaultthatyourbrotherwassuchafuckingidiothegothimselfkilledbeforethetournamentevenstarted,Klyn.”
Thevoicewasoddlyfamiliar.
Theman—Klyn,apparently—whirled.Headsswiveled.Thesourceofthevoicetookalong,longdrinkofblood.Itwasdifficulttoseehim—wewereseatedatoppositecornersoftheroom,withfourrowsofpeoplebetweenus—butIglimpsedabroadformandwavy,darkhairwitharedsheen,whichrustledslightlyashethrewbackhisheadtodrink,unperturbedbythefuss.
WhenKlyn’sgazefelltotheman,heseemedtoforgettherestoftheroomexisted.
“You,”hebreathed.“RaihnfuckingAshraj.Youhadn’tgottenoverthatthingintheoutercity.Ishouldhaveknownweshouldn’thavetrusted—”
Theman—Raihn—setdownhisgobletandlaughed.Itwasalowsoundthatslitheredthroughtheairlikeasnake.
Klynturnedpurple.Perhapshewassenselesswithhisownrage,buthewasstillavampire,andthatmeanthewasstrongandfast.Hecrossedtheroominseveralgracefulstrides
“Youdidthis!”
Andjustasquickly,Raihnwasonhisfeet,meetinghimhalfway.
Idrewinasharpinhale.
ThemanIhadseenatthefeast.Irecognizedhimrightaway,becausehere,justashehadattheball,hestoodoutasmarkedlydifferentthananyothervampire.Everythingabouthimseemedroughandunfinished,rightdowntothewayheheldhimself—withanuntamed,threateningease,starkincontrasttoelegantvampirebeauty.
Andwhenhestood,Irealizedallatoncewhyhisvoicehadsoundedsofamiliar.Thereitwas:thebloodybandagewrappedaroundhisthigh.Rightwhere,say,ashorthumangirlmighthaveplungedadaggerwhentryingtobreakoutofhisgrasp.
Fuck.
Evenacrosstheroom,IcouldseethathisknuckleswerewhiteashegrippedKlyn’swrist,seizingtheswordmid-strike.
“YouthinkIkilledyourbrother?”Raihnsaid.“Me?”
“Don’tfuckingtoywithme,Raihn.Iknowyoudidit.”
“Oh,Ididn’tkillyourbrother.”
Raihn’seyes—rust-red—slippedrightacrosstheroom.Landedrightonme.
Andhesmirked.
Goddessfuckingdamnit.Ididn’texpecttohavetofightmywayoutofapackofvampiresbeforethetournamentevenstarted,butIwoulddoitifIhadto
Istartedtorise,myhandsgoingtomyswords.
“Thisisridiculous,isn’tit?”
Inearlyjumpedhalfwayacrosstheroom.Ispunaroundtoseeaslender,curly-hairedwomanleaningagainstthewallbesideme,rollinghereyes.
TheverysamewomanI’dseenatVincent’spartytheothernight.
“Weshouldbesavingourenergy,”shesighed.Sheglancedatmelikesheexpectedananswer.
Isaidnothing.Mostly,Iwantedtoaskherwhatshewasdoinghere.Shedidn’texactlyseemlikethetournament-to-the-deathtype.ButIcouldbarelytearmygazefromthesceneacrosstheroom.
Now,KlynwasinchesfromRaihn’sface.“Yes,youdid!Iknowyoudid!”
“No,”Raihnsaidcalmly,“Ididnot.WishIhad,though,becausehewasarepulsiveasshole.”
“Hewas,”thegirlagreed,besideme.“Theworst.”Sheleanedcloseandwhispered,“Youdidit,didn’tyou?”
“I—what?”
“Youdidit.Right?”
“I—”
Acrosstheroom,Raihnsaid,“AndI’mwarningyou,rightnow,nottogoforthatswordagain,Klyn.”
“Oh,no,”thegirlmuttered.
Klynwentforhissword.
SMASH.
Klyn’sbodyhitthewallwithenoughforcetosendtwoofthegrandantiquepaintingscrashingtotheground,theirwoodframessplinteringundertheforceoftheimpact.Raihnpinnedhimagainstarabesquewallpapernowdottedwithspattersofblack-redblood.Klyn’sswordarmdangledfromhisbodyatanoddangle,clearlybroken.Hisheadlolled.
Halfthepeopleinthehallhadnowgottentotheirfeet,watchingwide-eyed.Everyoneheldtheirbreath,waitingfortheanswertothequestionnoonewasvoicing:Wouldhedoit?
Klyn’sattitudehadchangeddramaticallyinthelastfiveseconds.“Youcan’tkillhere,”hecroaked.“YouheardtheMinistaer.Hesaidyoucan’tkilluntilthetrials.”
“Ohno,”thegirlsaidagain,notseemingallthatdistressed.
Wewereallthinkingthesamething.ThinkingoftheMinistaer’scrypticwords.Iknewsomeonewouldtesttheboundary.Ijustdidn’tknowitwouldhappensosoon.
Raihnsmiled.
“Oh,Ican’t?”
Theblastshooktheroom.Igasped,theairyankedfrommylungsinonedramaticpulse.Pitchblackconsumedme,followedbyblindingwhite,followedbyacoughingfitasIfoundmyselfblinkinghard,shakingawaygoosebumps.
Sunfuckingtakeme.
Everyonegapedattherust-eyedman,jawshanging,questioningwhatwe’djustseen.
RaihnletKlyn’svery,verydeadbodyslidedownthewallintoawobbly,bonelessheapontheground.
Silence.Nooneblinked.Raihnlookedup,asifwaitingforNyaxiatostrikehimdown.Fivesecondspassed,thenten,thenthirty.
“Hm,”hesaid,atlast.“Well,Isupposethatanswersthat.”
Hesatdownandresumedeating.
Thegirlsighed.“Sodramatic.”
Icouldn’tbringmyselftospeak.ThatwasfuckingAsteris.CHAPTEREIGHT
Vincentwasexactlywherewehadagreed.IsnuckoutoftheMoonPalacejustbeforedawn,waitingaslongasIcouldfortheothercontestantstoretreatbacktotheirrooms.Afterthefeastwasover,wehadstartedtosomewhatwarilyexploretherestoftheMoonPalaceanddiscoveredhundredsoffullyfurnishedandstockedsuitesthroughoutit.Mosthadclaimedroomsastheirown,somebythemselvesandsomeinpartnershipsorgroupsforprotection.
Still,Iremainedinmygreenhouse.Nowallsorlockswouldprotectmeaswellasthosewindowscould.Besides,Ifoundsomethingoddlycomfortinginthewaythegreenerywrappedmeinanembrace.Theplantswerefragileandaliveandimpermanent—justlikeme—andyet,they’dstillmanagedtoreclaimtheancientstructure.Itwasalittleinspiring.
Whentheskywastintedred,Imademyjourney.TheMinistaerhadbeenhonest.TheMoonPalacedidnotlockusin.Vincentmetmebeyondthegates,beneaththestepswheretheslabpathsgavewaytothesiltymudoftheriverbank.Stonebridgesarcedoverhead,leadingtothecity.
VincenthaddescribedthisspottomebeforetheKejaribegan.“It’sprivate,”hehadtoldme.“Itwillbeourmeetingplace.”
Here,undertheshadowofthebridge,IfeltlikeIstoodupontheboundarybetweentwoworlds.Tomyright,theMoonPalaceloomed,ancientandforeboding.Tomyleft,Sivrinajroseintothesky,silhouettedbythenear-fullmoon.Noonecaredwhathappenedhere,inthislittleshadowycrevicethatwasapartofneither.
HowdidVincentknowaboutthisplace?HadhemetsomeoneherewhenhewasacontestantinhisownKejari,twohundredyearsago?Didhehave…well,aVincent?Someonewhohadtrainedhim,guidedhim?Amemberofthefamilyhehadkilledinhisrisetopower?
Oranothermentorwhotoldhimtodoit?
Iknewbetterthantoaskthosesortsofquestions.MaybewhenIbecameVincent’sequal—hisCoriatae—Ifinallywould.
“Oraya.”
Iwasn’texpectingthesoundofVincent’svoicetohurtasitdid—anacherightinthecenterofmychest.Iturnedtoseehimapproachingfrombeneaththeshadowofthebridge.Whenthemoonlightfellacrosshisface,mythroatgrewsuddenlythick.
I’dbeenstrongbeforethis.Therewasnotimetogrieve,notimetobefrightened,whenIhadtofocussingularlyonsurvival.Butnowthesightofhim,thesheerfamiliarityofhisface,tookmebacksixteenyears.Iwasachildagain,hidinginthespacebetweenthewallandthedresser,andVincentwastheonlysafepersonintheworld.
Ilanawasgone.Dead.Ihadonlyhim.
Helookedmeupanddown.Hisfacewasstone-still.
“Areyouinjured?”
“No.”
Heliftedhischintomyhand.“That?”
I’dforgottenaboutit.“Nothing.Justalittlecut.”
“Youneedyourhands.”
Hebeckoned,andIrestedmyhandinhispalm.Hegentlyremovedthebandage—purplesilk.IhadtofightthestinginmyeyesasIwatcheditshimmerbeneaththemoonlight,nowcoveredinblood.TherestofIlana’sscarfwasinmypocket.I’dtriedtosalvageasmuchofitasIcould,thoughsomuchofitwasnowstainedandtorn.
Vincentfrownedatit—notatmywound,butthefabric.“Wheredidyougetthis?”
“Ifoundit.IntheMoonPalace.”
Ididn’tevenhavetotrytolieanymore.Theycamesoeasily.
“Hm.”Hewithdrewabottlefromhispocket,thendrippedafewdropsoftheshimmery,silver-blueliquidontomypalm.Apuffofsmokeunfurledfromthecut,thesoundechoingthehissIdrewthroughmyteeth.
“Don’twhine.”
Ididnotmissthehintofaffectioninthechastisement.
“Ineverwhine.”
Andheprobablydidnotmisstheslightcrackinmyvoice.
Thewoundonmyhandwasnowjustapuffypink-whitescar.Hereplacedthebandageandhandedmethebottle.“Takecareofthat.Idon’tknowwhenIwillbeabletogetyoumore.I’lltry.”
Medicinethatwassafeforhumanswas,understandably,difficulttocomebyintheHouseofNight.Vincentneededtotradeforthemfromthehumankingdomsinthesouthandtheeast.Thestuffwaspreciousasgold.More,actually—golddidnothingtostopbleeding.
“ItwasearlierthanIthought,”Vincentsaid.“Myyear,westartedthenightbeforethefullmoon.Nottwo.Isupposetheyliketokeepthingsinteresting.Itmakesnodifference.”
ItmadeadifferencetoIlana.Onemorenight,andshewouldhavebeenoutofthecity,safe—ifunhappy—inthehumandistricts.
IfIallowedmygrieftoshow,hedidn’tseemtonoticeit.Heunhookedtwosheathedweaponsfromhisbelt.
“Here.”
Hetossedthemintomyarms.Icaughtthemdeftly,thenslidonefromtheblackleatherscabbard—blinkinginstunnedaweatwhatwasrevealed.
Theswordswere—theywere—
Icouldn’tspeak.Couldn’tfindwords.
Theywereshortanddelicate,designedfordualwielding,asIpreferred.Theywereimpossiblylightfortheirsize.Thebladescurvedgracefully,polishedblacksteelwithredmarksetchedintotheflat—longswirlsofdecorativesmokeandstark,staccatoglyphslockedinadance.Thehilts—silver,toppedwithtwointerlockingmoons—welcomedmyhandsasiftheyhadbeenwaitingformemyentirelife.
Andyet,itfeltwrongtoeventouchthem.
“Theyshouldserveyouwell,”Vincentsaid.“Light.Therightsize.Igavethesmithallyourmeasurements.They’redesignedspecificallyforyou.”
“Theseare…”
Perfect.Stunning.Eye-wateringlyexpensive,yes,butitwasn’tjustaboutthemoney.TheweaponsweretheepitomeofthedeadlyartistrytheNightbornwereknownfor,wieldedonlybythemostesteemedHouseofNightwarriors.Hundredsandhundredsofhoursofcraftsmanshiphadgoneintocreatingthese.Centuriesofexpertiseinblacksmithingandmagic.Anentirecivilization’sskill,righthereinmyhands.
NodoubtseveralgenerationsofNightbornkingsrolledintheirgravestothinkofsuchaweaponwieldedbyanadoptedhumangirl.IfeltasifIwastaintingthesesimplybytouchingthem.
“Theseare…”Istartedagain.
“Theyareyours,”Vincentsaidquietly.
AsifheheardeverythingIdidn’tsay.
Iswallowedmywaveofemotion—Mother,Oraya,getafuckingholdonyourself—andaffixedthesheathstomybelt.PerhapsIdidn’tdeservetheseyet.ButIwould,oneday.OnceIwon.
“Thankyou,”Isaid.
Vincentglancedagaintothesky.“Youshouldgo.Thesuniscoming.”
Hewasright.ThelastthingIneededwastogetdisqualifiedforbeinglatebacktotheMoonPalace.Inodded.ButbeforeIcouldturn,hecaughtmyarm,grippingsohardhisfingernailsdugintomyflesh.
“Iwon’ttellyoutobecareful,Oraya.Iwon’ttellyoubecauseIknowyouare.Itaughtyoutobe.Resilient.Clever.Fast.Focused.Vicious.Youmustbeallofitnow.Youhavenoroomforweaknessormissteps.”
EmotionsrarelyshowedonVincent’sface.ButnowIcaughtaglimpse—onlyaglimpse—ofsomestrangetendernessshiveringacrossthecoldmusclesofhisexpression,gonebeforeeitherofuscouldorwouldacknowledgeit.
“Iwill,”Isaid.
“Youmustbebetterthantheyare.”
AndjustasVincentheardwhatIdidn’tsay,Iheardhisunspokenwordshere,too:Tomakeupforwhatyouarenot.
TherewasnoroomforweaknessintheKejari,butminewasentwinedinmyownhumanflesh.IblinkedandsawIlana’sbody,soeasilydestroyed.Ifoughtbackthewaveofnausea,thestabofpain.Thosewereweaknesses,too.
Instead,Imademygriefintoanger.Imadeitsteel.
“Iknow,”Isaid.“Iam.”
Hewasstillforalongmoment,thenreleasedme.
“Thebladesholdpoison,”hesaid.“There’senoughinthemtolastyouawhile.Youcanrefillitthroughthehilt.”
This,Iknew,wasVincenttellingmethathelovedme.Noonehadeversaidthosewordstome—atleast,notthatIcouldeverremember.Buthecommunicateditathousandwaysovertheyears,mostofthemcoatedindeath.Iloveyou.Here’showyoustayalive.Here’showyoumakesurethatnoonecanhurtyou.
Forvampires,thatwastheultimategift.
Inodded,liftedmyhandinasilentgoodbye,andwepartedwithoutanotherword.
***
IcutmyreturncloserthanIshouldhave,butatleastitmeantthatthePalacewasquietwhenIgotback.IwastryingtofigureoutwhetherIwashallucinatingorifthelayoutoftheplacehadchanged—again—whenIroundedacornerandnearlyranintoawall.
No—notawall.Aperson
Ireactedfast,puttingseveralstridesbetweenmeandthefigurebeforeIevenlookedattheirface.Mybladeswereoutinseconds.Mother,thesethingswerelight.
Iliftedmygazetoseedarkredeyesdrinkingmein.
Atthefeast,evenfromacrosstheroom,I’dthoughtthismanseemedunlikemostothervampiresI’dmet.Upclose,therewasnodoubtaboutit.Raihn’sfeatureswerestrong—almostunpleasantlyso,likeeachheldtoomuchpersonalitytobecombinedinsuchaway.Whiletimeleftmarksonhumans,invampiresitsimplysandedawayimperfections,leavingthemwithbeautyasfinelyhonedasaNightbornblade.Butthisman’sfacecertainlyseemedtoholdevidenceofthelifehehadlived—ascarmarkinghisleftcheekintwolinesarrangedinanupside-downV,oneeyebrowthatseemedalittlehigherthantheother,hairthatwasleftinunrulywaves.
Thatstarenowcasuallymoveddownmybody,thentomyblades,whichwerepoisedandreadytostrike.Hislefteyebrow,theonethatseemedpermanently,ever-so-slightlyraised,quirkedevenhigher.
“Arethosenew?ThanktheMotheryoudidn’thavethoselastnight.Iwouldn’thavealeganymore.”
“Getoutofmyway.”
“Wherewereyou?”
Itriedtowalkpasthim,butheplacedhishandontheoppositewall,blockingmypathwithathick,muscledarmcladinleather,rightatface-height.
“Iknowwhereyouwere.YouwerevisitingtheNightbornKing.That’syou,isn’tit?Hishuman?”Hecockedhishead.“You’reveryfamous,youknow.Evenintheborderlands.Arealcuriosity.”
Itriedtoduckunderhisarmtocontinuetothegreenhouse,buthemoveditdowntoblockmypath.Thenhenoddeddowntohisleg.
“Youstabbedme.”
“Yougrabbedme.”
“Iwastryingtosaveyourlife.”
Ishouldn’tevenengage.IcouldpracticallyhearVincent’svoiceinmyear:Thinkaboutwhatyouhavetogainfromaninteraction.Theanswerisusuallynothing.
Butmyegospokefirst.Imadeashowoflookingmyselfupanddown.
“Idon’tthinkso.Iescaped,andIlookalivetome.”
Thateyebrowtwitchedagain.“Fornow.”
Hesaidthisasifitwasveryamusing.
Butonlynow,amomenttoolate,didmymindcirclebacktowhathehadsaid—Iwastryingtosaveyourlife.
Thatnight,I’dbeensodistraught,Ihadn’tevengivenmyselftimetothinkaboutwhohadgrabbedme—orwhy.Itonlysankinnowthathehadbeentryingtohelpme,oratleast,appearedtobe.
Thatwas…strange.Sostrange,itdidnothingtoendearhimtome.Farfromit.Iwascertainhehadn’tdoneitoutofthekindnessofhisbenevolentheart
“Whatdoyouwant?”Idemanded.
“Iwantanapology.Forstabbingme.EspeciallygiventhatIcouldhaveturnedyouovertoyourvictim’sbrother,anddidn’t.”Heleanedabitcloser,andImatchedthemovementbysteppingback.“Becauseyoudidkillthatbastard,didn’tyou?”
Iscoffed.
Hefrowned.“What?”
“I’mnotafool.”
“Oh?”
“Youwantedhimtogiveyouanexcuse.Youjustwantedtoswingyourcockaround.”
BecauseintheHouseofNight,everythingwasapowergame.Hisspectacleatthefeast?Thatwasaperformance.
Well,fine.I’dratherhavemyenemieslookingathimthanlookingatme.Butthatdidn’tmeanIhadtoputupwithit.Maybehewascuriousaboutme.Maybehejustlikedtotoywithhisfood.Ididn’tneedtoknowwhyhewasplayingthegametoknowIhadnothingtowin.
Iraisedmyblade.“Nowletmepass.”
Hearchedhisbrows.“Iaskforanapology,andIgetthreats.”
“I’msorryIdidn’taimhigher.”
Helookedpointedlydownathimself.“Alittlehigher,oralothigher?”
Thatwasalmostfunny.Itcaughtmeabitoffguard.Itwasrarethatvampiresmadejokes.Hundredsofyearswitheredawayasenseofhumor.WhenIwasfifteenorso,IgaveupontryingtomakeVincentunderstand.IwasluckyI’dhadIlanato—
Thecasualthoughtofhertriggeredastabofpainsointenseittookmybreathaway.
“Letmepass,”Isnapped.
Hegavemeastrangelook.“Whatwasthat?”
Thatcaughtmeabitoffguard,too.ThathenoticedthebriefemotionIhadallowedtoflinchovermyface.
“Letmepass.”
“Orwhat?”
“OrI’llstabyouagain.”
“Howmuchhigher?”
Foramoment,Iactuallyconsidereddoingit.MaybethiswasthebestopportunityI’dget,rightnow,whenhewasactinglikeitwasallabigfuckingjoke.Whataluxurythatmustbe.
Itwasonlythethoughtofthatflashofblack,thenwhite—Asteris,Iwassureofit—thatstilledmyhand.
Instead,Imadeadramaticshowoflookinghimupanddown—lingeringathisthighandtrailinguptothecrotchofhisleatherpants,andsaid,“Alittle.”
Iduckedunderhisarm.Thistime,hechuckledsoftlyanddidn’ttrytostopme.
***
Themoongleamedbrightandfull,hangingheavywithchallenge.Theminutessinceitrosehadbeentenseandstill.Frommyplaceinthegreenhouse,Icouldn’thearasinglesoundfromtheMoonPalacehalls.
Itwasnearlymidnightwhentheghostlythreadofshadowappearedagain,summoningusfromourrooms.Ifollowedittothegreathall,wheretheMinistaerhadaddressedusallthenightbefore.Theroomslowlyfilledwithpeopleasmoreandmorethreadsofshadowjoinedmine,untilnomorearrivedandtheshadowsdissipated,leavingusallstandinginawkwardsilence.
Everyonehadtakenthelastdaytoprepare.Contestantswerearmedwithnew,freshlycleanedweapons,leatherarmorstrappedtighttotheirbodies.Someworeprotectivesigilsattheirthroatsoretchedintothearmoritself.Inotedthosecarefully—itdidn’tnecessarilymarkthemasmagicwielders,butitdidmakethepossibilitymorelikely.Magicwouldbeanuglysurpriseinthering.
Overnight,somehadalreadyformedlittlefactions.TheHouseofBloodcontestants,ofcourse,stayedtogether.Now,therewaslittledoubtthatthetall,muscularwomanwastheirleader,asI’dsuspected.Theotherslistened,rapt,asshewhisperedtotheminhushedcommand.Hermostly-silverhairwasnowboundupinalongbraid,thetightpullofitemphasizinghersharpcheekbonesandstrongbrow.Assheturnedtospeaktooneofhercompanions,Inoticedafaintcrimsoncrawlingupfrombeneaththecollarofherwhiteleatherarmor.
Hercurse.I’dnevermetaBloodbornvampirebefore,butI’dheardthatredmarksontheirskinsignaledtheendstagesofit.Ifthatwastrue,thiswomanwasfaralong.Thenextstepwouldbeinsanity.Andbeyondthat…
Well,peoplemurmuredaboutwhattheHouseofBlood’scursedidtothem.Turnedthemintolittlemorethananimalsintheend.
Ishudderedandlookedaway.
Someoftheothercontestantshadformedlittlegroupsovernight,too—probablyseeingthetemporaryvalueofstrengthinnumbers.Almostcertainly,too,thinkingaheadtotheHalfmoontrial.Itwastheonlytrialstructurethatwasthesameeveryyear:inwhichcontestantswouldneedtofightinteamsorpartners,andhalfthefieldwouldbeeliminated.
MyeyesfoundRaihnattheothersideoftheroom.Besidehimwasthecheerfulwomanwiththeshorthair.Sheleanedclose,whisperingexcitedly,whilehesurveyedtheroom.
Whatanoddpair.
Onlyafewnowremainednotablysetbackfromtherestofthegroup:me,severalmembersoftheHouseofShadows—knownfortheirstaunchindependence—andIbrihim,whowasoneofthelasttoreachthegreatroom,visiblylimpingonhismangledfoot.
TheKejariwasnoplaceforpity.Still,IfeltitanywayasIwatchedhimhobbledownthehall.Iknewbetterthananyonethatnooneshouldbedismissedoutofhand.Butitwashardtoimagineanyversionoftoday’seventsthatwouldn’tendinIbrihim’sdeath.
Theminutespassed.Wewaitedintensesilence.
Iunsheathedmyblades,adjustingmygriparoundthehilts.
I’dstudiedeachofthetwentyKejaristhatcamebeforethis,andIhadthoughtlongandhardaboutwhatthistrialcouldbe.ThefirsttrialusuallyrepresentedNyaxia’sdeparturefromherhomeintheWhitePantheon.Shehadventuredoutbeyondthebordersofherlandandwasattackedbybeastsduringhermidnightwalk.Theypursuedherformiles,andinherpanic,shegrewimpossiblylost.Sometimes,thetrialinvolvedblindingcontestants,asNyaxiawasblindedduringherattack.Sometimes,itrequiredcontestantstorunandfightovertreacherousterrain.Butmostoften,itinvolvedbeasts—sometimesmany,sometimesone.
Thelongsilencegavewaytouncomfortablewhispersofconfusion.Eventually,oneoftheHiajcontestantsaskedwhatwewereallwondering:
“Sowhatnow?Arewesupposedto—”
TheMoonPalacesimplydisappeared.CHAPTERNINE
Thescreamingofthecrowdshooktheground.Lightblindedme—sobrightthatatfirstIquestionedwhetheritwassomehowsunlight.
Butno.Torches.Thousands.Liningtheroundedrimofthecolosseum,floatinghundredsoffeetaboveofourheads,clutchedinthethousandsuponthousandsofhandsofthethousandsuponthousandsofspectators—allofwhomwerescreaming,screaming,screaming—
ScreaminglikeIlanahadscreamed—
Foramoment,nothingexistedbuttheskyandthelightandtheroarofthespectators.Icranedmyneckuptothestarsthatwerebarelyvisibleovertheflareofthelanterns.Theysmearedinacircularblur,punctuatedbyrailsofsilvermetal—likethetopofthegreenhouse.Aglassceiling.
Move,Oraya!avoiceroaredinthebackofmyhead—Vincent’svoice,itwasalwaysVincent’svoice—andIdid,justintime.
MassiveclawsshreddedthepackedsandwhereIhadbeenstandingsecondsago.
Theworldsnappedintoviolentlyharshfocus.
Anothershriekrangout,muchcloser,asaHiajcontestantwastorntopieces—oneshatteredwingclenchedinadrippingmaw,hisbodyclutchedinclaws,black-redbloodpouringontothedirt.
Notjustabeast.Afuckingdemon.
I’donlyseenademoninreallifeonce,andIhadbeensoinjuredthatIbarelyrememberedit.Eventhathorrorhadbeennothingcomparedtothese.Theymovedonallfours,hairlessanddark-gray,withblackenedveinsthatpulsedbeneaththeirskin.Serratedblackclawscappedtoo-longfingersonhandsmadeforgrabbingandkilling.Theirfaces—flat,withsharpcheekbones,slitnoses,andwhite,mucus-coatedeyes—weremostlymouth,whichextendedfrompointedeartopointedear,drippingwithblackenedsalivaoverlayersofjaggedteeth.Theywere,atonce,chillinglyanimalisticandsickeningly…humanoid.
TheymovedsofastIcouldn’tcountthem—sofastthattheycrossedthearenainthetimeittookmetoblink.Morethanfive.Lessthanten.
Ipressedmybacktotheglass.Itshookassomethingslammedviolentlyagainstthewallinthenextenclosure.Thecolosseumhadbeensplitintomanysmallerrings,separatedbyglassdomes.IwastrappedherewithseveralHiajvampires.OneRishan.OneBloodborn.Kiretta,theShadowbornmagicwielderVincenthadwarnedmeabout.And—Iletoutaroughlaugh,becauseitfuckingfigured—Raihn.
Asthedemonstangledinthecenterofthering,momentarilydistractedbythestill-twitchingbodyofthevampirethey’djustrippedapart,therestofuslookedaroundwarily.Wewereallthinkingthesamething:Wastheobjectivetokillthedemons,oreachother?
Orboth?
Ihadnotimetothinkaboutitasoneofthedemonslungedforme.Irolledoutofthepathofthoserazoredhands—butthenmybodyseizedup.Mymusclesrailedagainstme,asiftheywantedtokeepmeinthedemon’spath,wantedto—
Fuck.Bloodmagic.
IglancedupjustintimetoseetheBloodborncontestantmeetmyeyes,redmistaroundhisraisedhands,hismagicinmyblood.Hecouldonlymaintainhisfocusforamoment,butthatwasenoughtosendmetumblingunderthedemon’sclaws.
Movemovemove—
Painskeweredme.ThemomentIbrokefreeofthemagichold,Igrabbedoneofmyswordsandplungeditintotheroofofthedemon’smouth,justasthoseteethwerecomingdownuponme.
Ahorrificburningsmellfilledmynostrils—thepoisoninaction.Thedemonletoutahigh-pitched,hollowwail.PuffsofblacksurroundedusasIyankedmyswordfromitsflesh.Whenitsjawsnappedclosed,theskinwasmelting,topjawdrippingintobottom.
Mother,thisshitwasstrong.IthankedVincentsilentlyandscrambledfrommyattacker’sgraspasitstaggeredbackintothepack.
Ontheoppositesideoftheenclosure,Raihnwentafterademonwithsweepingstrikesofhissword.Animpressiveweapon,evenfromadistantglimpse.ItwasNightbornsteel,likemyblades,withstreaksofred-tinteddarknessfollowingeveryswing.
Tomyright,theBloodbornmandodgedasoneofthedemonsleaptforhim,sinkingitsteethintohisleg.Hislipstwistedintoagrimsmile,handsraisedandready.
Butthenhefroze.Horrorfellacrosshisfacethathadnothingtodowithpain—asifhehadjustmadeaterriblerealization.Itdistractedhimlongenoughforthebeasttoyankhimcloser.Asheenofblack-redbeadedoveritsskin,followedbyafogofcrimson.
Unnaturalgoosebumpsroseonmyarms,aburningsensationghostingovermyfleshasIleaptawayfromitsswingingtail.Strange.Unsettling.Familiar.Icouldn’tpinpointit,but—
TheBloodbornmantriedtofightnow,butitwastoolate.Hisbodycrumpledlikemoistpaperbeneaththedemon’sclaws.
PuffsofshadowfilledtheenclosureasKirettaunleashedthefullforceofhermagic,fragmentsofdarknesswrappingarounddemonlimbsandthroatstolittleeffect.OneoftheRishanhadrisentothetopoftheglassdomeandshotarrowsatthemonstersbelow,lurchinganddippingtoavoidtheirbarbedtails,buttheybarelyreactedtotheblows.BloodspurtedacrossmycheekasanotherHiajcontestantfell.
Four.Fourofusremained.
IfoughtuntilIcouldn’tfeelmyownbodyanymore.Kirettawasslowlybeingworndown.TheRishanwiththearrowshadmoreandmoredifficultydodging.EvenRaihn’sseeminglyunstoppableblowsappearedtobeslowing.MyhandsweresoslickwithputridblackbloodthatIstruggledtogripmyswords,dripsofpoisonleavingmyskinraw.
Wehadn’tmanagedtokillasingledemon.EventheoneI’dinjuredhadtornitsmouthbackopenandwasactinglikeithadneverbeenhurtatall.
Acrossthering,ademonlungedforRaihn,andheleaptsmoothlyoutoftheway…majestic,featheredwingsunfurlingfromhisback.Hestretchedthemwideasherosetothetopoftheenclosure,red-blackfeatherstintedpurplebeneathstrokesofsilverymoonlight.
SohewasNightborn.ARishan,ofcourse.Ishouldhavefuckingknown.
Irolledoutofthewayofanotherattack,oneeyestillonhim.Iwatchedhimplunge,watchedhimthrusthisswordintotheribsofademon—
Andthebeastdivingforme—theoneIhadn’tevenstruckyet—flinched.
Everythingfadedexceptforthatsingletwitch.Thatonelittleseizeofmuscle.Myattackerrecoveredfast,leavingmescurryingacrossthesand,butinmymindIreplayedthatmoment,overandover.
No,Ihadn’timaginedit.Thedemonhadflinched,andexactlywhereRaihnhadhittheotherone.
IthoughtofthelookofhorrorontheBloodbornvampire’sfaceasthedemondrankfromhim.Oftheredsheenthatcoveredtheirbodiesnow,themist,thestrangeburningsensationofmyskin—
Realizationshookme.
Itwasbloodmagic.Sloppyandunrefined,yes,butbloodmagicallthesame.AndifthedemonswereusinggiftsexclusivetothevampiresoftheHouseofBlood…
Istabbedthehandofamonsterthatcameformeandfoundfreshhorrorinitsterriblewailofagony.Mother,itdidalmostsoundlike…likeavoice.
Thesewerenotjustdemons.Theseweredemonsthathadoncebeenvampires—Bloodborn,cursedvampires.
Think,Oraya.
Transfiguration.IknewthecursemadeBloodbornvampiressomethingterribleintheirfinaldays,butnothinglikethis.Sothesehadbeenchanged.Created.Weretheylinked,somehow?IwatchedtheirmovementswiththesplitsecondsIcouldsparebetweendodgesorstrikes—watchedtheirdynamics.
Apack.Theymovedtogether,asifconnected.Andmaybethatmeanttherewasaleader.Aheartatthecoreoftherottenflesh.Iftheseweretransfiguredvampires,perhapsonewastheoriginal,andtheothersitsspawn.
“Dothatagain!”IscreamedtoRaihn,whohadrisenbackintotheair.Hecockedhisheadinconfusion.Thedinofthecrowdswallowedmywords.
Ijabbedmyfingertothedemon,thentappedmyforehead—whereitboreasinglewhitemarkbetweenitseyes.“THATONE,YOUFUCKINGIDIOT!”
Ididn’tknowifhe’dunderstandwhatIwastryingtotellhim,orifhewouldhelpmeevenifhedid.
Icutthroughthepackofbeasts.Iwasbettingeverythingonthistheory.TherewasnowayI’dsurvivethisifIwasn’tright.Gettingintothepackwasdifficult—gettingoutofitwouldbeimpossible.Ileviedstrikeafterstrikewithmypoisonedblades,makingthedemonsfalter,buthadnotimetomakethemfall.Precise.Fast.
Theredmist,whichhadgrownthickerwiththedemons’everykill,burnedmyskin.Thewrithingbodiesblendedintoeachother,slickgrayagainstslickgray,butIrefusedtotakemyeyesoffmytarget,refusedtoblink—
Mymarkletoutasickeningscream,itslimbsflailinginalldirections.Blackbloodspatteredovermyfaceasamassivebladeplungedintoitsside.Raihn’sbodytrembledwithexertionashepinnedthebeast,barelydodgingitstailandclaws.Hisgazemetminethroughthechaosandredsmoke—andhenodded.
Icouldn’tevenbelievethesewordscrossedmymind,butIthought,Nyaxiablesshim.
Ifthisdemonhadoncebeenavampire,thatmeantweneededitsheart.AndthatmeantIhadtoslideunderthisthing.Idroppedtomyknees,poisedmyblade,and—
Painexplodedthroughmyhip.
Myvisionblurred.APOPrangoutinmyearsasthesoundofthecrowdandthedemonsfadedtoadistantdin.
Ididn’trealizeIhitthegrounduntilIsawmyhandsbracedagainstthedirt.Ilookeddownatmyself.Anarrowprotrudedfrommythigh.
Fuck,Ithought,justbeforeallthedemonswereonme.CHAPTERTEN
Icouldn’tmove.Istabbedwildly,hittingfleshhere,bonehere,aneyehere.Icouldseenothingbutslitheringmassesofgrayflesh.Mypatheticmagicsparkedatmyfingertips,uselessfragmentsofblue-whitelight.Bloodandbloodandbloodrainedonme.Thethrashingbodiesofthedemonspartedenoughformetoglimpsetheskyabovemethroughahazeoftoxicredsmoke—glimpsethemoon,tauntingmefrombeyondtheglass.
Thenitwasblottedoutbeneaththepowerfulspreadofmassivewings.Silhouettedbythelightofthemoonandthelanterns,thefeatherswererich,deepshadesofredandpurple.
TimeslowedtoacrawlasRaihnplungedhisswordintothedemonontopofme.Themonsterhissedandflailed.AsliceopenedacrossmycheekasInarrowlymissedoneofitsthrashingclaws.
Icouldn’thearanything,butIsawhislipsmove—sawthemformtheword,“Now!”
Asmyconsciousnessfaded,Igatheredmyfinalstrengthandrammedmyswordintothedemon’sheart.
Pushhard,littleserpent,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.
Theworldhadgonesilent.Raindropsofbloodbecameawaterfall.Ikeptpushingandpushing,untilmyhandswerewithinthewoundandIfeltthedemon’sslipperyflesharoundmyknuckles.
Iwasgoingtodie.IthoughtI’dcomeclosetoitbefore.Butthiswasdifferent.Whenthedemon’sheadlowered,whenitscataract-riddeneyesmetmine,Iknewwewereunitedinthat—intheterrorofourownmortality.
Ifthiswasn’tthekeytovictory,Iwasfucked.Completelyfucked.Lockedupinhellwiththisthing.Foramomentandaneternity,thedemonandIbalancedtogether,dancingontheblade’sedgeofdeath.
Andthenthesuddenabsenceoftheweightleftmegasping.
Raihnletoutaraggedroarasheyankedthedemonoffme,grippingitbythethroatandhurlingittotheblood-soakedsand.Thescreamingfromthecrowdwasnowdeafening.Icouldn’tcatchmybreath.Couldn’tmove.Painparalyzedme.
Icringed,waitingforanotherdemontoleaponme.Secondspassed.Itdidn’thappen.Instead,Raihnstoodoverme,onehandonhiship,wingsspiritedawaybutswordstilldrawnanddripping.Hislipsmoved,butIcouldn’thearthewordstheyformed.
“What?”Itriedtosay.
Heleanedcloser,mouthtwistingintoagrin.“Isaid,goodidea.”
Hestretchedouthishandforme,butIrolledawayandpushedmyselftomyfeet.Thatearnedanexplosionofagonyupmythigh.
Thedemonswerenowmotionlesshusks,justbonelesssacksofmeatontheground.Fourofthesevenofusremainedalive.Westaredateachother,weaponsstillpoised.Istruggledtograbholdofmyslippery,pain-and-poisonaddledthoughts.
Didwewin?Ordidwestillneedtokilleachother?
TheHiaj—thefuckerwhohadshotme—lookedpointedlytotheground.Notatthecorpses,butatthelinesofshadowthatledustotheedgeofourenclosure.There,anarchwayhadappeared.Withinitwasthecold,silenthallsoftheMoonPalace,standinginlaughablecontrasttothebloodychaosinthering.
Thatwasit.Asmuchofavictorycelebrationaswewouldget,apparently.
KirettaandtheremainingHiajbothlimpedtothedoorwithonlymomentarypausesofconfusion,eagertoleavewiththeirlives.ButIdidn’tmove.Iwouldn’tshowit,butIwasn’tevensureifIcouldwalk.
Iglancedbackovermyshoulder.Forthefirsttimesincearriving,Itookinthestands,wherethousandsofscreamingspectatorswatched.Theyweresofaraboveusthatindividualfaceswerelostinthecrowd,butIstillfoundmyselflookingforVincent,anyway.
Raihn,too,hadnotmoved.Hewaslookingtohisleft,attheenclosurebesideours,whoseoccupantswerestilllockedinabrutalbattle—includingIbrihim,whowas,remarkably,stillaliveandfighting.AfaintwrinkleflittedacrossRaihn’sbrowinanexpressionthatoddlyresembledconcern,andIrealizedwhywhenIfollowedhisgazetohisfriend.Sheleaptaroundwithalltheerraticgraceofabutterfly,wielding—
Mybrowslurched.
ShewaswieldingfireNotthewhite,darkpowerofNightfire,either,auniquelyNightborngift.No,thiswasfire
Mylipspartedinshock.FiremagicwasthedomainofAtroxus,thesungod—amemberoftheWhitePantheon.I’dneverseenavampirewieldingmagicthatwasnotbornofNyaxia’sdarkarts,letalonemagicinthedomainofhergreatestenemy.Ididn’tknowsuchathingwaspossible.
Raihnpoundedontheglasswallofourenclosure,loudenoughtoattractherattention.Sheglancedathim,andhetappedhisforeheadrightbetweenhiseyebrows.Thenhepointedtothedemoninhercagethathadthewhitemarkonitsface.
Withthat,hecasuallyturnedbacktome,lookedmeupanddown,andmotionedtothedoor.
“Afteryou.”
TherewasabsolutelynowayinhellIwaslettinghimwalkbehindme—especiallynotwithmylegbleedingthismuch.IcouldonlyimaginehowIsmelledtohim.
“Afteryou,”Isaidsweetly.
Heshrugged,walkedahead,andIhobbledafterhim.Mylegtrembledviolently
Thefirsttrialendedwithlittlefanfare.WeallskulkedawaytoourhideawaysinthesilentembraceoftheMoonPalace.Iwentforthegreenhouseimmediately,desperatetohidebeforeanyoneelsescentedmybloodanddecidedIwasaneasymeal.Frommyhidingplace,Ilistenedtotheechoesoftheotherreturningcontestants.
Onetrialdone.Fourremained.
IthoughtI’dfeelsomesortofrelief.ButasIcrouchedamongtheleavesandtriedtoquellmybleeding—triedandfailed—Ifoughtbackonlyrisingdread
No,reliefwasforthesafe.AndasIpiledbloodyragshigherandhigher,safetywasfar,farfrommyreach.CHAPTERELEVEN
MywoundswereevendeeperthanI’dfeared,theoneinmythighcontinuingtobleeddespitemanytightbandages.Thearrowmusthavebeencursed,andwhoknewwhatevervenomthedemons’clawsheld.BothofmyinjuriesweresoseverethatVincent’spotionwouldonlyhealone.Afteralonginternaldebate,Iuseditonthecutinmyside,whichseemedatmostriskforinfection.
Thatstillleftmeinroughshape,though.IneededtoseeVincent.Surely,he’dmeetmetonight—hewasprotective,andafterseeingmeinthering,he’dwanttoknowIwasalright.Iprayedhehadbeenabletogethishandsonmoremedicine,thoughIknewitwasunlikely.Fuck.Ifhehadn’t,Ididn’tknowwhatI—
“Beautifulplaceyou’veclaimedforyourself.”
IstiffenedsoabruptlyatthesoundofthevoicethatIwasgreetedwithawaveofpain.Grabbingmyblades,Iroseandturned.Itwashardtogettomyfeet.Dawnwasstillhoursaway.AndIwasinnoshapetofight.NotthatIwouldn’ttry.
“Howfitting.Everylivingthinginthisdepressing,deadcastle,allinoneplace.”Raihnwanderedtothecenterofthegreenhouse,pausingatthelong-dryfountainatitscenter.Hegazedupatthefacelessstatue,thenoutthewindows,andthenatlast,hiseyesfelltome—thecornerofhismouthtwistingintoanalmost-smile.
“Getout,”Isnarled.
“Ibroughtyousomething.”
“Getout.”
“That’srude.”Hesatdownontheedgeofthefountain.Ihalfexpectedtheancientstonetocrumbleunderhisweight—hewastrulyawallofacreature,bigenoughtoevenlookitwhensurroundedbygods-damneddemons.Andyet,hemovedwithsurprisinggrace,likeheknewhisbodywell.Heloungedwithonefootproppeduponthestone,elbowbracedagainstit,whiletheotherlegstretchedoutbeforehim.Helookedutterlycasual—socasualIknewitwascalculated.
Thenheglanceduptothestar-scatteredsky,andsomethingmomentaryshiftedinhisface.Iknewhowtoreadexpressionswell.Thoseofvampireswerealwaysmuted,frozenbycenturiesofdullimmortality,andmysurvivaldependedonmyabilitytofindmeaningineverytwitch.Butthatbriefexpressionstruckme—bothbecauseitwasaglimpseofsomethingunusuallyraw,andbecauseIcouldnotevenbegintodecipherit.
Thenhisstarefellbacktome,thesmirkreturned,andonceagainIwaslookingatavampire,toyingwithmeintermsIwasinnatelyfamiliarwith.
Aperformance.Thiswassomeonewhocaredverymuchaboutwhatpeoplethoughtofhim.Iknewthatmuchalreadyfromhislittleoutburstatthefeast,goadingthatpoorbastardintoattackinghimsohehadanexcusetobethefirsttodrawblood.
Heswunghislegsdownandleanedforward.Withthatmovement,Itwitchedbackwards,drawingastepclosertothewall.
“What?”hesaid.“DoIsmell?”
“Itoldyoutogetout.”
“YouthinkIcamehereforameal?That’smygrandintention?”
Hisintentionwasworthshit.Vampireshadnotoriouslypoorself-controlwhenconfrontedwithhumanblood.MylifewouldbealotsaferifprotectingmewasjustamatterofVincentthreateningpainfulandhorribledeathuponanyonewhohurtme.Comingaftermewasalogicallyunwisedecision.Theyallknewitwouldresultintheirexecution…orworse.Buttheymightnotevendecidetodoit,theymightjustbeovercomeby—
Thememorywasassharpasever—lipsonmythroat,akissdeepeningtoanipdeepeningtoaviciousstabofpain—
“Whatwasthat?”
Ijerkedbacktoreality.Mother,thebloodlossmustbegettingtome,toletmymindwanderofflikethat.Raihnstillworethatlittlesmirk,butnowawrinkleofcuriositydeepenedbetweenhisdarkbrows.
“Wheredidyougo?”
ThatunnervedmemorethanI’deveradmitaloud—thefactthathesawwhateverhadjustchangedonmyface.
“Itoldyou,”Ispat,“toget—”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?Stabme?”
Helookedpointedlyatmyblades.Daringme.Mockingme,becausewebothknewIcouldn’t,notinthisstate.
“Thatthighlooksbad.It’salittlepoetic,isn’tit?”Hetouchedhisthigh—stillbandaged.
Sure.Fuckingpoetic.
“Ibroughtyousomethingforthat.”
Hereachedintohispackandpulledoutabluecrystalbottle,contentsthrummingwithalightshimmer.
Mother.Atthesight,Ialmostleaptforitjustonimpulse.Howhadhefoundthat,ifevenVincentwasstrugglingtogethishandsonit?
Raihnplacedthepotiononthestonebesidehim,thenrestedhisforearmsonhiskneesandwatchedme.
“Youknow,”hesaidcasually,“Iheardsomeoftheotherstalkingbeforethefirstround.Bettingonwhowouldsurvive.Yournamewasworthshit,becauseeveryonewassosureyou’dbethefirsttodie.”
Hepaused,waitingforareaction,andIrefusedtogivehimone.
“ButIthoughtbetter,”hewenton.“Iknewyouwereonetowatch.Thatyouweren’tjustsomeordinaryhuman.ThegreatNightbornKing’shumanpet.”
Itwasn’tthefirsttimeI’dbeenreferredtothatway,anditwouldn’tbethelast,butIstillbristled.Iwasinsomuchpainthatitwasmoredifficultthanusualtokeepmytemperatbay.
Calmdown,Oraya.Angermeansanacceleratedheartrate.Ahigherheartratemeansyourscentisstronger.Givethemnothing.
Itwasn’tasifIdidn’tknowexactlywhathewasdoing.Baitingme,justlikehehadbaitedthatmanatthefeast.IfIwastheserpent,hewaspokingmewithasticktoseewhenI’dsnapitintwo.
“Didheteachyouhowtofightlikethat?Hemusthave,right?”Henoddedtomyweapons,stillbracedinfrontofme.“Hegaveyouthose,obviously.Nightborncraftsmanship.Thegoodshit.”
“Areyoudeaf,orjuststupid?”
“You’reunfriendly.”
Whatdidhethinkhewasaccomplishinghere?DidhethinkIwassoeasytomanipulate?DidhethinkIdidn’tknowwhatthiswas?
“Whyareyouhere?”Isnapped.Bynow,Istruggledtohidethelaborofmybreathingandmaintainthestrengthinmyvoice.“Forentertainment?I’mboringasshit,Ipromiseyou.”
“Icanseethat.”
“Stopplayingwithme.Idon’thavethepatience.”
Again,thecornerofhismouthliftedinagrim,satisfiedsmirk.“Ortime,”hesaidflatly,hiseyesfallingtomywoundedthigh.
Myjawsnappedclosed.Hisgazeflickedbacktomine,andforalongmomentwejuststaredateachother,lockedinawordlessconversation.
Iknewitwasthetruth.HeknewIknewit.IhatedthatheknewIknewit.
“Thenstopwastingit,”Ispatout,atlast.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“WhowillyouallywithfortheHalfmoontrial?”
Iblinked.Iwasn’tsurewhatIwasexpecting—moregames,maybe—butitwasn’tthat.
Itwasagoodquestion.Animportantquestion.ThechoiceofallyfortheHalfmoontrialwasacriticalstrategicdecision.ItneededtobesomeonestrongenoughtokeepyouinthetopfiftypercentofcontestantsduringtheHalfmoon,butnottoostrong,becausetheythenbecameyourgreatestcompetitioninthefinaltwotrials.
WhiletheexactnatureofthetrialchangedineveryKejari,thosethreeimportantelementsremainedconstant:thefactthatitrequiredcooperation,thatitresultedinthedeathofhalftheparticipants…andthatmany,manycontestantswouldbekilledintheirsleepimmediatelyafterit,mostoftenbyformerallieswhodecidedtheyweremoreriskthanreward.
Despitemybestefforts,Icouldn’tkeepthewincefromflittingacrossmynose.
Raihnletoutalowchuckle.“Ithoughtso.”Thenhesaid,withnohesitation,“Allywithme.”
Myeyebrowsshotup.
Vincenthadoftenchidedmeformypoorcontrolovermyfacialexpressions,andatthisone,Raihnlaughedagain.
“Allywith…you,”Isaid.
“MeandMische.”
Mische.Wasthatthenameoftheshort-hairedgirl?Theonewiththefire?
“Weclaimedaroomnearthetopofthetowers,”hewenton.“It’ssecure.Big—awholeapartment.Safe.Orsaferthanthisplace,atleast.”
Thisdidn’tfeelright.“Why?”
“Becauseyouimpressedme.”
“Bullshit.”
Hisbrowstwitchedinthefaintesthintofsurprise,likehewasgenuinelynotexpectingthisanswer.
“Excuseme?”
“Youhaven’tsaidasingletruethingsinceyoustrodeinhere,soI’llbehonestforbothofus.I’mahuman.Webothknowthatmakesmetheweakestonehere.Youhaveyourpickoffiftystrongervampiresyoucouldallywith.Andyouexpectmetobelieveyouwantme?”
Heexaminedacutonhisringfinger.“Onlyforty,now,actually.Look,youbeatwarriorsthatoutclassedyoumanytimesovertonight.YouandI…”Hisgazeraisedbacktome.“Weworkedwelltogether,didn’twe?AndIlikeanunderdog.”
“Bull.Shit.”Ijabbedoneofmybladesathimforemphasiswitheachword.“Dootherpeoplefallforthis?Givemeonehonestthing,orgetout,likeI’vebeentellingyoutosinceyoushowedup.”
Ididn’ttrustanyoneinthisplace.ButIespeciallydidn’ttrustsomeonewhopursuedmeundersuchblatantlyfalsepretenses.Theveryfactthathewantedtoallywithmemadehimtheleasttrustworthyonehere,becausenosanepersonwouldwanttodosuchathing.AndIcouldhandleselfishmotivations—Iexpectedthem—butnotwhenIdidn’tknowwhattheywere.
Heblinkedtwice,bitingtheinsideofhischeek.Icouldn’ttellifhewasinsultedorifhewasfightingbacklaughter.
Finally,hesaid,“AlltheotherdecentfightersthatarepeopleIcouldactuallytoleratearealreadyallied.”
“And?”
“And?”
“Notenough.Keepgoing.Youalreadyhaveyourfriend.Whyinviteanother?”
“I’mcuriousaboutyou.Canyoublameme?Everyoneis.Vincent’slittlehumanprincess,keptinaglasspalacewhereeveryonecouldlookbutnevertouch.”Heglancedaround,smilingwrylyatthegreenhouse’scrystalwalls.“Areyoumissingyourglasscastle,princess?”
Iwouldn’tlethimbaitme,notevenifIdidfindmyselfshiftinginirritationatthatcharacterization.
ButthementionofVincenttriggeredawaveofunderstanding.This,atleast,madesense.MaybeitwasthefirstthingoutofRaihn’smouththatIactuallybelieved.
“Vincentcan’thelpmeinhere.”
“Idoubtthatverymuch.”
Ah.
Vincent.ItwasaboutVincent.Theofferofalliancehadnothingtodowithme.Raihnthoughtthatifhealliedwiththeking’slittlehumanprincess,itwouldearnhimadvantagesaffordedtonooneelseinhere…andpreventothercontestantsfromgettingthemfirst.
Ididn’tlikeit,anditwasn’ttrue,butatleastitmadesense.
Iscoffedbutdidn’targue.InsteadIsaid,“And?”
Helookedconfused.“And?”
“Whyelse?”
Anotherlongstare.Anotherwordlessconversation.I’dforgottenwhatitwasliketotalktosomeonewhosefacecommunicatedsomuch.
Therewasonemorething—onemorekeyreasonwhyIwastheidealally.Webothknewit.HeknewIknewit.HehatedthatIknewheknewit.
ButI’daskedforhonesty,andIwantedhimtosayit.
Hewasclearlyweighingthis,decidingwhichanswerwastherightonetopassthetest.Atlast,hesaid,“Andyou’llbeeasytokill,whentheHalfmoonisover.”
Itwaslegitimatelysatisfyingtojusthearsomeonesayitoutloud.
“Butuntilthen,”headded,quickly,“noharmwillcometoyou.Icanpromiseyouthat.”
IheardVincent’svoiceinasixteen-year-oldmemory:
Iamtheonlypersonwhowillevermakethatpromiseandkeepit.
“WhatmakesyouthinkIneedyourprotection?”
Tohiscredit,hedidn’tlaughatme.
“You’reaskilledfighter.BetterthanIthoughtyou’dbe.”Herosefromthefountainandtookafewslowstepscloser,neverbreakingeyecontact,hislarge,scar-nickedhandopenononeside,theotherclutchedtightaroundthehealingpotion.Witheachstep,Idrewbackwards.
“Butyouarestillhuman,”hesaidquietly.“Andthatmeansthatinhere,youareprey.You’llalwaysbeprey.Nomatterhowgoodyouarewiththosefancyweapons.”
Thetruth,ofcourse.Butmaybehedidn’trealizethatIknewhowtobeprey.I’dbeendoingitmyentirelife.
Hewasright.IwouldneedtoallywithsomeonefortheHalfmoon,andthenIwouldneedtokillthemafterwards.MaybeIcouldallywithhim,allowhimtoprotectme,andspendthattimelearninghisfightingstylesandweaknesses—preparingmyselftokillhimassoonasitwasover.Hecouldunderestimateme,andIcouldusethatagainsthim.
Butallyingnow?Thiswasearly.TheHalfmoontrial,themidpointofthetournament,wassixweeksaway.Thatwasalongtimetostayincloseproximitytonotone,buttwovampires,withoutgettingkilled.Alongtimetoallowhimtolearnmystrengthsandweaknesses,too.
“No,”Isaid.“Temptingoffer,though.”
Hetookanotherstepcloser,andagain,Imatchedthedistanceback.
“Whatwasitthatyouaskedofme?Anhonestthing?Iwashonestwithyou,sonowyoubehonestwithme.Doyoureallythinkyou’llsurviveanothernighthere?It’salmostdawnnow,butafterthat?YourscentisallovertheMoonPalacerightnow.Icouldsmellyouevenfromtheeasttower.Andletmetellyou,yousmellfuckingdelicious.Youneedtostopthatbleeding,fast.”
Myeyesfelltothepotiontightlygrippedinhishand.Hearingitallacknowledgedoutloudmademeuneasy.Butsodidhavinghimthisclosetome.Ididnotlikethathewaspushingmeintothissoforcefully.Thereasonshehadgivenmedidn’twarrantthat,whichmadetheoneshedidn’tfarmoreconcerning.
“No,”Isaid.
“You’llbleedtodeath,orthey’llkillyou.”
Hestartedtostepcloser,andIignoredthehorrificripofpainasIleaptaway,bladesraisedanew.
“Iwillstabyouagainifyoucomeevenasinglestepclosertome,”Isnarled.“Getout.”
Heraisedhishands.
“Asyouwish,princess.Suityourself.”
HemadesureIwatchedasheslippedthepotionbackintohispack,thengavemeonelastsmileandturnedtothedoor.
“Topoftheeasterntower.Ifyouchangeyourmind.”CHAPTERTWELVE
Ileftanhourbeforedawnbroke.Itwasagambletogoatall—mywoundwassobadthatIstruggledtomove.IfIpassedouthalfwaybetweenourmeetingspotandthegatesoftheMoonPalace,Iwasfucked.ButIgrittedmyteeththroughit,replacedmydressings,andmadethetrek.Ittookmetwiceaslongasithadthenightbefore.Ihidbeneaththebridgeandwaited.
Andwaitedandwaited.
Please,Vincent.Comeon.Please.
Atfirst,Iwasindenial.Hewasjustalittlelate.Somethinghadkepthim.Therewasnowaythathewouldn’tbehere,notwhenhehadwitnessedthatbattleandseenmyinjuries.Hewouldappearanysecondnow.
Buttheminutestickedby,andVincentdidnotcome.
Fuck.
Iknewmyfather,andIknewthattherewasnoexplanationforthisthatcouldpossiblybegood,butIhadnotimetoworryaboutthat.Whensunrisewasfartooclose,IgaveupanddraggedmyselfbacktotheMoonPalace.BythenIwasmovingevenslower.Bleedingheavier.IhadbeenbettingonVincent’shelp,andlosingthatgamblehadcostmedearly.
Ibarelymadeitbackbeforedawnbroke.Asearly-morninglightstreamedthroughthefloor-to-ceilingwindows,Icreptintothefeasthall.Itwas,thankfully,empty.Thetableoverflowedwithfreshfoodthatlookedasifithadhardlybeentouched.Butthecarafes?Theonesthathadonceheldblood?
Thosewereominouslyempty.
Iwasinsomuchpainthatthethoughtofeatingmademystomachchurn,butIstuffedsomefoodintomymouthandintomypocketsanyway.Ihadtokeepmystrengthupsomehow,andIhadtomovefast.Daysprior,theMoonPalacehadbeennear-silentduringdaylight.Butnow,Icouldhearactivityechoingthroughthehalls—muffledvoices,dullthumps,andlightfootsteps.Raihnhadbeenright.Thegreenhousewassafeintheday,buttherestofthePalacewouldn’tbe.
Imovedasswiftlyasmyinjurieswouldallowfromthefeasthalltothegreatroom.Myeyeslockedonthesmearoflightattheendofthehallway—thegreenhouseentrance.Itwasabright,clearday,notacloudinthesky.Sunlightfloodedit.
Iwastwostepsaway—sofuckingclose—whenIheardthefootsteps.
Idroppedmypackoffood.Grabbedthehiltofmyweapons.Turnedjustintime.
Oneofmybladesslidintothetautmuscleofmyattacker’sside,andtheotherblockedhisstriketomyface.Thesuddenforceofthemovementleftmebreathlesswithpainasmywoundstoreopenanew,thefreshflowofblooddrivingmyattackerintoafrenzy.
Ithappenedsofast.Ididn’tevengetagoodlookatmyassailant,onlyglimpsedlittledetails—thewhiteofhiswildstare,thegrayofhishair,theoverallwiryshapeofhisform—beforeweweretangledtogether.Hewashalf-feral,movinginjaggedlurches,mouthtwistedintoasnarlandclawsdiggingdeepintomyshouldersasIfoughthimback.Hewieldedarapier,whichopenedanotherwoundinmyside.
Iflungmyselfagainsthimandtogetherwetumbledintothegreenhouse.Thevegetationwassothickthatitdidlittlemorethanmakemyattackerhissinmilddiscomfort.
Buthewassavagewithbloodlust.Sloppy.Wasn’tpayingattentiontohissurroundings.Whenhelungedforme,Iusedtheforceofhisownmovementtoslamhimagainsttheglasswall.
Themorningbeatdownoverusboth,theheatbeadingperspirationonmyskininseconds.Hisbackpressedagainsttheglass,takingthefullintensityofthesun.Thescentofsweatandburntfleshfilledmynostrils.
Itwouldbeenoughtojarhimfrombloodlust.Surely.
Butno.Heletoutagruntofpainandkeptthrashingagainstme.Icouldblockhisteeth,orhissharpenednails,orhisweapon,butnotallthree—atleast,notwhilekeepinghimpinned.Theburningsmellgrewmorepungent.
Istumbled.Helunged.Ihadonechance.Iflunghimbackagainsttheglass.Seizedthemomentofhishesitationasthesunscaldedonesideofhisface.
Andbeforehecouldrecover,Iplungedmydaggerintohischest.
…Nothardenough.Thebladedidn’tmakeitthrough.
Fuck.
Iwasso,soweak.Idrewbackagain,andnearlycollapsedastheworldwentsideways.
Myblurringvisionsharpenedaroundthevampire’seyes—yellow,withthreadsofred.Heturnedtome,aslowsmilespreadingoverhislips.
IthreweverythingIhadintoonefinalthrust,hardhardhard,untilIheardacrack,untilmydaggerwentthroughhischest.
Ahorrificburningpainskeweredme.
Myattackerwentlimp.Thedeadweightofhimnearlytoppledmeover.Hewasn’tdead.Hisfingersstilltwitched.Ididn’tgetdeepenough.Butmyhandsdidn’tobeywhenItriedtopushagain.
Istaggeredback.Lookeddown.Myabdomenwascoveredwithblood.Icouldn’tfeelwherethecutwas.
Couldn’tfeelmuchofanything,actually.
You’reinshock,Oraya.Vincent’svoicewasurgentinmyhead.Youaregoingtobleedout.Youneedtogetoutofhere,rightnow.They’llsmellyou.
Mymindwasamuddymess,butIcouldmakeoutasinglethought:
Iamnotgoingtosurvivethiswayforfourmonths.Nochance.
Iclutchedmystomachandliftedmyhead.Andthere,rightbeforeme,asifpresentedtomeasagiftfromtheMoonPalaceitself,wasthespiralstaircase.
Ilookedback.Thegreenhousedoorwassuddenlyfarbehindme.HadIwalkedthismuch?Ididn’trememberdoingthat.Butthenagain,therewaslittleIdidrememberasIdraggedmyselfupthatstaircase.Flightafterflightafterflight,seeminglyendless,justasithadbeenthatfirstnight,thefirsttimeI’drunupthesestairsdesperatetomakeittothetopwithmylife.
Probablywouldn’tbethelast,either.
BythetimeImadeittothetop,Iwascrawlingonmyhandsandknees.Blooddrippeddownthestairsandrolledthroughthegapsinthebanister,landingonthedistantgreatroomfloorlikelittleflowerpetals.
Whentherewerenomorestairs,Iliftedmyhead.Asingledoorstoodbeforeme.
Ifoughttomyfeet.Onestep,andIcollapsed.Triedtorise.Slippedonmyownblood.Ididn’tfeelitwhenIhittheground.Theworldspun.Faded.
Afterwhatfeltlikeanage,someoneflippedmeontomyback.Mythroatreleasedastrangledsoundofpain.
Raihnleanedoverme.
“Well,”hesaid,crossinghisarms,“thatdidn’ttakelong.”
Fuckingprick.
Aloud,Igurgled.
ThelastthingIsawbeforeIlostconsciousnesswashisbroadgrin,revealingtwoverylong,verysharpcanines.
“Oh,you’reverywelcome,Oraya.”
AndthelastthingIheardwasVincent’svoiceinmyhead,saying,Whatthehelldidyoujustdo?INTERLUDE
Letmetellyouaboutthefirsttimethechildwishestobesomethingsheisnot.
Fiveyearsisablinktoavampire.Ahalfalifetimetoalittlehuman.Thekingkeepshisnewadopteddaughtercarefullysequesteredfromtherestofhisbloodyworld.Hegiveshereverythingshecouldpossiblywishforwithintheconfinesoffourwalls.
Thegirliselevenyearsoldbeforeherwishesventurebeyondthosewalls.Thekingtriedtobeeverythingtoher,butforallhisaffectionandprotection,hewasstillseveralhundredyearsolderthanher,andanentirelydifferentspeciesaside.
Thegirlrememberedthelifeshehadbeforeshecamehere—evenifthoseimageswerefleeting,eatenawaybytime.Yearsarelongtoachildsoyoung,andmemoriessoshort.
Still,sherememberedthatshehadalifebeforethis.Alifewithpeoplewhowerelikeher.
Onenight,whenthekingcametovisither,sheaskedhimaboutherfamily.Itwasnotthefirsttime.Sherecognizedthelookonhisfaceashepreparedtogiveherthesameanswerhealwayshad,forthethousandthtime.
“Iknowmyparentsaregone,”shesaidquickly,beforehespoke.“Buttheremustbeothers.”
“Others?”
“Otherslikeme.”
“Humans.”
Thegirlnodded.Thekingwassilent.
Thegirlwenttoherbookcaseandpulledoutatomethatweighedalmostasmuchasshedid.Shehadtobattleittomakeittothetable.Ithitthewoodwithathud,andsheflippedthroughthebookofmaps.
“YoufoundmeinthewesternregionsoftheHouseofNight.”
Thekingblinkedinsurprise.Hehadnevertoldherthedetailsofwhereshehadbeenfound.
Thegirlbeamedalittle,pleasedtoimpressherfather.
“Ifigureditout,”shesaid.“Rishanterritory.Right?”
Shecouldnotreadherfather’sface.Henodded.
“Thenwhere?”Herfingertrailedoverfadinglines—citiesandtownshipsthatonlyexistedtoherasinkonamap.
“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
Thegirlpaused.Itdidmatter.Itmatteredverymuch.
Shehadlearnedtochooseherwordscarefully.
“Maybesomeoneisstillthere.Lookingforme.”
“Butyouhaveahomehere,littleserpent.”Thekinggaveherasmall,warmsmile.“Ahomethatsuitsyou.Maybeyourbloodrunsred,butyoubelonghere.”
Hedidn’tunderstand.Shedidhaveahomehere,butthelifewithinitswallswasoneofconstantfear.
“Idon’t,”shesaid.“Everyonewantstokillmehere.”
Thekingdidnotarguewithher.Hehadtoldherthiswastruemanytimesover.
Finally,hesighed.
“IfoundyouinaplacecalledSalinae.AfarawaydistrictontheothersideoftheHouseofNight’sborders.Butevenifyouhadfamilystilllivingthere,Oraya,Icouldnotfindthemforyou.”
Thegirldidn’trealizejusthowtightlysheheldontothishope—thisfragile,inventedreality—untilitshatteredinherchest.
“Why?”shechokedout.
“ThatisRishanterritory.AstheHiajking,andleaderoftheHouseofNight,Ican’tgothereunprovoked.”
“ThenIcan.”Shedidnothesitate.“I’llgo.”
Helaughed,butshesnapped,“Itisn’tajoke!”
Theking’ssmilefaded.Helookedathisdaughterforalongmoment.“Youareahuman,”hesaid.“It’stoodangerousforyoutodothis.”
“ThenTurnme,”sheshotback.“Makemelikeyou.Ireadallaboutit.”
“Ican’tdothat,either,Oraya.”
Anotherhopefractured.Hereyesburned.“Whynot?”
“Becauseyouarefartooprecious.”Hestrokedherhair.“TwointhreeTurningsendindeath.That’smorethanhalf.Iwillnottakethatriskwithyourlife.”
Herthroatwasthick.Hereyesstung.Shehadtoholdbackhertearswithallherstrength.Shewasonthecuspoftheagewhenchildrenbegintounderstandthefuture.Andinthismoment,thelittlegirlunderstoodthatthistruth—thattheprisonofherownhumanflesh—damnedhertoalifewithinthesefourwalls.
Shewhirledtoherfather,herlittlehandsballedintofists.“Therehastobesomething,”shesaid.“Therehastobesomeway.Therehasto.”
Thekingchuckled,thoughhiseyesweredistantandsad.“Suchteeth.”
Hewassilentforalongmoment,hissmilefadingtoseriousthought.Hewasquietforsuchalongtimethatitseemedlikehismindhadtraversedtoawholeotherworld.Thelittlegirlknewbetterthantointerrupt,soshewatchedhimandwaited.
Shehadalreadylearnedhowtoreadhisexpressions,butthisonewasforeignMorethanadecadelater,shewouldthinkbacktothisconversationandknowthatwhatshehadbeenseeinginhimthenwasconflict—anexpressionsorarethatshehadnotknownhowtoidentifyit.Shewouldthinkcountlesstimesaboutthisnightandaboutwhatherfatherwouldsaytohernext.Theunansweredquestionofwhathehadbeenconsideringinthatsilencewouldhaunther.
Butthelittlegirlknewnoneofthisnow.Shesimplywaited.Atlast,thekingleanedforwardinhischair,armsbracedonhisknees.
“Thereisonewayyoucould,oneday,becomejustaspowerfulasme.”
Hopefloodedher.
“How?”shebreathed.
Theking’smouthtwistedintoaruefulsmile.“Withagiftfromagoddess.”CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Thelaughwaslowanddeep,roughandsmoothatthesametime—quiet,andyetitcommandedtheroom.Itwasthefirstthingtoseepthroughmyaddledmind;thefirstthingtocutthroughmyhazyconsciousness.
Irolledover.Mybodyprotestedwithasymphonyofaches,butthatwasnothingcomparedtobefore.Theabsenceofpainwasjarring.
AsIblinkedawaysleep,thefirstthingIsawwaswings—deepblack,theglossofthefeathersreflectingwarmstrokesoflanternlight.Ihadn’thadthetimeintheringtoproperlyadmireRaihn’swings,buttheywere—asmuchasIhatedtoadmitit—quitebeautiful.IsawRishanwingsmuchlessoftenthanIsawHiajones,andneveranyasuniquelycoloredasthese—deepblack,withthatoil-slicksheenofredsandpurplesandblues.
RaihncrouchedbeforeMische,whosatatopacoffeetable.Heheldherfoot,whichheleanedoverwithwhatseemedlikeintenseconcentration,arollofbandagesinhisotherhand.
“Itoldyoutostopmoving,Mische,”hemuttered.
“It’stakingtoolong.”
“Youcanstaystillfortwofuckingminutes.”
Hiswordswererough.Andyet,thetoneofthemwassomuchsofter—tender,even.
Mischeheavedalong-sufferingsighandsquirmedlikeanimpatientchild.
Iblinkedagainandtherestoftheroomcameintofocus.Wewereinwhatlookedtobethecommonspaceofanapartment—avery,veryniceone,albeitacoupleofcenturiesoutofdate.Lanternslinedthewalls,litwithamixoffireandblue-whitelightthatflickeredoverbrocadewallpaperinastrangecontrastofwarmthandcoolness.Awallofthickvelvetcurtainscoveredtheeasternhalfoftheroom—allwindows,ifIhadtoguess.Grandfurniturewasarrangedartfullythroughout,craftedofdeepmahoganywoodorgenerouslymarbledblackstoneandupholsteredwithsilkybrocade.Allofitappearedtobearelicfromanotherageinstyle,butlookedaspristineasifithadbeenmadeyesterday.
“Itoldyou,it’sfine!Itwon’tslowmedowna—oh!Oh!”
MischeleapttoherfeetwithsuchexcitedvervethatshecamedelightfullyclosetokickingRaihnintheface.
“Whatdidwejusttalkabout?”hemutteredashedodged,andMischepaidhimnomindasshedartedacrosstheroomtome.Myheadwasstillspinning,butIlurchedawayfromhernonetheless.
Shefroze,raisingherhands.
“Oh.I’msorry!Iknow—hetoldme.Slow.”Sheshrugged,lettingoutanawkwardlaugh.
Hetoldme.Ibristledatthat.Whatmightthathavelookedlike?She’saweaklittlehuman,terrifiedofeverything,sotreatherlikeawoundedanimal.
Raihnlookedaway,mutteringacurse.
“Howareyoufeeling?”Mischeasked.Shesettleddownonthefloor,foldingherlegsbeneathherandrestingherpalmsonherknees—likesheneededtophysicallyrestrainherselffromrunningovertome.Hereyesweretoolargeforherface,almostcomicallyoutofproportionwithhersmallnoseandforever-upturnedmouth.Yet,somehow,shewasstillstrikinglybeautiful.Thenagain,vampiresalwayswere.
“Better,”Ianswered,afteralongmoment.
Mischegrinned.“Oh,good!I’mMische.Soexcitedtofinallymeetyou.”
“Wehavemet.Atthefeast.”
“Well,Imean,reallymeet.Raihntoldmeallaboutthetrial.Andhowitwasyourideatofindthepackleader.Thatsavedmyass,sothankyou.”Shelaughedandshookherhead,asiftherecentnear-deathexperiencewasafonddistantmemory.
I’dnevermetanothervampirewhobehavedanythinglikethis.Evenattheirmostoutgoing,theywerereserved.Andyet,Icouldn’tshakethesensethatshedidremindmeofsomeone.Notavampire,Irealizedafteramoment,butahuman.SheremindedmeofIlana.
Sure,MischehadnoneofIlana’sbitingedge.Butshehadthatsameloud,unapologeticflair.Shewas…unabashedlycolorful.Whatwastherelationship,Iwondered,betweenherandRaihn?Theywerebothoddbyvampirestandards,butinwaysthatcouldnotpossiblybemoredifferentfromeachother.
Sheroseandspreadherarms,gesturingtotheroom.“Welcometoourhome.Isn’titstunning?Well…maybeyoudon’tthinkso.I’msureit’snothingcomparedtotheNightborncastle.Butwe’veneverbeenanywherelikethisbefore.Or—well,IsupposeRaihnhas,butI—”
“Giveherasun-damnedminutebeforeyoutalkhertodeath,Mische.”
Raihnslidhishandsintothepocketsofhisjacket—long,black,simple,andslightlytoosmallattheshoulders—andapproachedme,asmugsmilethatmademebristlespreadingoverhislips.
“Youchangedyourmindquickly,didn’tyou?”
“Ididn’thaveachoice.”
“Sowesaw.”
“Andthankthegodsyoudidcomehere,”Mischebreathed.“Youwould’vedied.”Herfacehardened.“ThoseBloodbornshits.Hetriedtoripyoutopieces,didn’the?”
Thankthegods,shehadsaid.NottheGoddess.Interesting.
“Ihaveagiftforyou,”Raihnsaid,verycasually,“towelcomeyoutoourlittlefamily.”
Mischegrinned.Itwasjarringtoseesuchasunnyandcheerfulexpressionpunctuatedbythosesharpcanines.
“Oh,yes!”Shereachedintooneofthechestspushedagainstthefarwall,andwhensheturnedbackaround,Ihadtostopmyselffromrecoiling.
Itwasahead.
Aman’shead,theskinpaleandwan,thehairmostlygrayandstreakedwithsomeash-brown.Hisearswerepointed,aswerehisteeth,visiblethroughtheperpetualsnarlthatgracedhislipsevenindeath.
I’dhardlygottenagoodlookatthevampirethatattackedme,butIhadtoassumethiswashim.
Mystomachlurchedwithsuddennausea.Thememorycame,asitalwaysdid,inbrief,all-consumingflashes.
Ihaveagiftforyou.
Iblinkedhard,shakingawaythepast.Thencarefullyironedmyexpressionbackintooneofcolddisinterest.
“AndwhatthehellamIsupposedtodowiththat?”
Raihnshrugged.“Idon’tknow.Gloat?”
“Howsatisfying,”Isaiddryly.“Hecertainlylookslikehecannowappreciatemysuperiority.”
Mische’sgrinfaded.Raihn’slipsthinnedinwrydisapproval.
“I’vesavedyourlifetwicenowandpresentedyouwiththeheadofyourenemy,andthisisn’tenough?You’reademandinglittlething,aren’tyou?”
“Allofthose‘gifts’havebeenself-serving.Ihelpedyousurviveinthatring,too.AndI’msureyoulovedkillingthisone.”
Anoddexpressiontwitchedoverhisface,quicklydiscardedinfavorofaneasysmile.
“That’swhywe’reallies.Becauseourinterestsaremutuallybeneficial.”
“Hm.”
Itriednottoshowthattheword“allies”chilledmedowntomybones.Onlynowdidthefullconsequencesofmyactionshitme.Ihadbeenforcedtomakeadecisionoutofbasedesperation,andnow,Iwastrappedherewiththesetwo.
Mischestillheldthehead,thoughshenowlookeddownatitwithaslightpout.
“Hereallywasanass.”Shesighed.“Evenbefore.Hewouldhavediedeventually,anyway.Youpracticallyguttedhim.”
“Must’vebeenquiteafight,”Raihnadded,“judgingbythestateofbothofyou.”
IchancedacoupleofstepsclosertoMische,examiningthehead.Evenforvampires,thepalegraytingetohisskinwasunusual,aswasthevibrantredthatrimmedhissightlesseyes.Aspiderwebofblack-crimsonveinscrawleduphisthroat.Theywerevisibleonhisneck,hisjaw,atthecornersofhismouthandeyes.Andevenindeath,theyseemedto…pulse.
“What?”Raihnsaid.“You’veneverseenaBloodborncurseupclosebefore?”
Idislikedthathefounditsoeasytoreadmyface.
“Itwasbloodlust,”Isaid.
“Itwasahellofalotmorethanthat.”
Hesoundedstrangelyserious.Perhapsevengrim.WhenItoremyeyesawayfromtheheadtolookathim,thesmirkhadfadedfromhislips.
Thenhenoticedmystare,andjustlikethat,itreturned.
“Hisdayswerenumberedeitherway.Amercy.Thiswastheleastpainfulwayhecould’vegone.Anyway.”Thesmirkbecameacrookedgrin.“I’mgladyoucametoyoursenses.Mische,youwanttogetridofthatthingnow?”
Mischenoddedandtuckedtheheadunderherarmassheheadedforoneofthedoorsinthebackoftheroom.“I’llberightback.ThenI’llgiveyouatour,Oraya.”
***
RaihnandMischereallydidmanagetofindaprimelocation.Theapartmentwashuge,featuringastudy,akitchen,anoffice,fourbedrooms(eachwiththeirownadjoiningwashrooms),and,ofcourse,thatgrandsittingroom—allofwhichwereluxuriouslyornate,evencomparedtotheNightborncastle.AllcitizensoftheinnercitywereaccustomedtoseeingtheMoonPalacestandwatchoverSivrinajinblessedmonumenttoNyaxia,butitwasonlynowthatIactuallystoppedtothinkabouthowithadgottenthereorwhy.Hadpeoplelivedhereonce?Ifso,whywasitabandonedinfavoroftheNightborncastle?Thisplacewasalmostasbigandeverybitasgrand.
Mischeshowedmetomyroom—“Wegaveyoutheonewiththemostwindows!”sheannounced,“for,youknow,obviousreasons!”—andleftmetomyowndevicestocleanupandgetsomerest.Mybedchamber,likealltheroomsinthisplace,wasbeautifullyornateinanancient,outdatedsortofway—evenif,strangely,therewasn’taspeckofdustanywhere.
Thecurtainswereaheavy,deepbluevelvet,withsilverbraidedpulls.Ihauledthemopenwithconsiderableeffort.Thewindowrevealedanear-perfectmirroroftheviewfrommyroomintheNightborncastle.Inthedistance,itssilhouettewasreducedtoaseriesofviciouspeaksandmoon-silverdomes.Icouldn’trememberthelasttimeI’dseenitfromsofaraway.BuildingsthatweresmallinthedistancefrommybedroomwindowwerenowsocloseIcouldseeeveryimperfection…ofwhichthereweremany.Yes,thearchitecturewasgrand,butgoldpaintflakedandcarvingscrumbled.Stressfracturescrawledlikeivyoverstonewallsandcracksseveredstained-glasswindows.AllmarksofdecaythatwereinvisiblefrommyroominVincent’scastle.
IhadalwaysassumedthattheuglinessofSivrinajwasconfinedtothehumandistricts.Ithadneveroccurredtomethatperhapstheinnercitywasrottinginitsownway,too.
Myeyessettledonalittleflashofblockydarknessagainstthehorizon.FrommyroomatVincent’spalace,Isawthedunesinthedistance,gracefulandsilent.Butfromthisone,thatfar-offviewwasinsteadofthehumanslums,partiallyhiddenbeyondthesilhouettedgrandiosityoftheNightborncastle.
Ididn’tknowwhythesightofthosetwothings,sostarkincontrast,mademesouncomfortable.
Ipulledthecurtainsclosedagain.
***
“Yougotthisfromthefeasthall?”
“Uh-huh!”
Mischethrewacherryinhermouthandchewed,clearlysavoringit,beforeswallowing—pitandall.SheandRaihnpickedatfood,butmostlydranktwolargegobletsofblood.TheplateoffoodMischepresentedmewasfarmorethanIcouldevereat,artfullyarrangedbycolor—berriesandmeatsandcheeses,piledhigh.
Ieyedthembothastheysippedtheirblood.Mischehadclearlywantedmetositacrossthetablefromher,butImovedtotheendofthetableinstead.Itjustfeltmorecomfortabletoputsomedistancebetweenus.Givemyselftimetoreactifeitherofthemmadeamove.
Iliftedmychintotheirglasses.“Whatkindisthat?”
Raihntookasipandsmackedhislips.“Deer.Ithink.”
Icouldn’ttellifIwasrelievedornotthatitwasn’thuman.Ididn’tliketothinkaboutwhereitmightbecomingfrom,butatleastiftheothersweregettingitfromthedecanters,theywouldn’tbequiteastemptedtogetitfromme.Therewas,afterall,nothingquitelikehumanbloodforthem.
Itwasn’ttheonlykindthatsufficed.Deer,horse,cow,orpig’sbloodwasthemostcommon.Chickenorcrowbloodwasthecheapest,thoughitwasnutritionallypoorandapparentlytastedhorrible.InVincent’scourt,horsebloodwasoftencuredandflavoredintodelicacies.Buteventhefinestofsubstitutionsdidn’tcomparetohumanblood.Theupperclasshaditoften,harvestedorconsumedstraightfrombloodvendorslikeIlanahadbeen.
“Therewasn’tanyleft,”Isaid.“WhenIwentdownthereearlier.”
“Weknow,”Raihnreplied.
Weweresilentforalong,awkwardmoment,allveryawareofwhatthatcouldmean.Atleastfornow,contestantscouldleavetheMoonPalaceinsearchofmore.ButIhadafeelingthattheleashwouldtighten,soonerorlater.
“Wehaveplentyforus,though!”Mischesaidbrightly,breakingthetensionandholdingupaveryfulldecanter,sloshingthered,thickliquidwithin.“Tookasmuchofitaswecouldcarrybeforetheothersgottoit.”
“Andfood,too,”Raihnadded.“Foryou.”
Icouldbegratefulforthat,atleast,onbothcounts.Thoughtheirkindnessmademeuncomfortable.
Oneofthecandlesinthecandelabraatthecenterofthetableremainedunlit.Mischefrownedatit,thensnappedherfingers.Alittlefragmentofflamesparkedatherfingertip,whichsheusedtolightthecandlewithasatisfiedsmile.
Iwatchedinfascination.Itwasjustassurprisinghere,upclose,asithadbeentoseeinthering.Mycuriositywonout.“Thatisn’tNyaxia’smagic.”
“Nope.Atroxus.”
JustlikeI’dthought.Andyettheconfirmationdidn’tmakeitanylessunbelievable.Whileeachofthethirteengodscouldbecalledonforvariousformsofmagic,noneofthetwelvedeitiesoftheWhitePantheonallowedtheirpowerstobedrawnuponbyvampires.Vampires,afterall,wereNyaxia’schildren,andtheWhitePantheondespisedNyaxia.
Mischereadmyface.
“ItisperfectlypossibleforavampiretowieldmagicfrombeyondNyaxia’sdomain,”shesaid,inatonethatimpliedshe’dgiventhisexplanationmanytimesbefore.“Itjusttakestherighttalents,that’sall.”
Sheseemedproudofherself.ButIdidn’tmissthedisapprovalonRaihn’sfaceashesippedhisbloodatthisexactmoment—asiftostophimselffromsayingsomethinghe’dregret.
“Whataboutyou?”sheasked.“Doyouwieldmagic?”
Ihesitatedbeforeanswering.MaybeIdidn’twantthemtoknowthatIdid,evenifmymagicwasbasicallyworthlessanyway.Anadvantagewasanadvantage.ButIwassilentforamomenttoolong.Mischegrinnedandleanedcloser.“Youdo!Icanfeelit.It’sshythough,huh?”
Shy.Thatwasrich.IconsideredcallingitthatnexttimeVincentmadeadisparagingcommentabouttheweaknessofmymagic.Don’tjudgeit.It’sjustshy!
He’dlovethat.
“Onlyalittle,”Isaid.“Uselessthings.It’sneverdoneanythingforme.”MygazeslidtoRaihn.“Andwhataboutyou?”
“Oh,same,”hesaid,takinganothersipofblood.“Uselessthings.”
Asifwehadn’tallseenhimuseittokillamanmeredaysago.
Mischegiggled,clearlyfindingRaihnmoreamusingthanIdid.
Myeyesnarrowed.“UselessthingslikeAsteris?”
Thecornerofhismouthquirked.“Exactlylikethat.”
BANGBANG.
Ijumped.Mygazesnappedtothefrontdoor,whichshookwiththeforceofeachknock.
BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG.
Raihnbarelyglancedatit.“Nowthatsoundslikesomethingweshouldn’tanswer.”
“RaihnAshraj,OPEN.THIS.FUCKING.DOOR.”
Thedeepfemalevoiceboomedfrombeyondthedoor,solouditmightaswellhavebeencomingfrominsidetheapartment.Ifthebangingkeptup,surelyitwouldbeinamatterofminutes.
MischeglancedtoRaihn.Henarrowedhiseyesather.Theyhadanunspokenconversation.
Hegroaned.“Whyisitalwaysme?Whyisitneveryournamethey’rescreamingthroughthesun-curseddoor?”
Shesmiledsweetly.“BecauseI’mniceandpretty.”
“I’mniceandpretty,”hegrumbled.Herose,grabbedhisswordfromwhereitlayhaphazardlyonthecoffeetable,andunsheatheditinonesmoothmovement.Thenhestalkedtothedoorandthrewitopen,givingwhoeverwasontheothersidenotimetoreactbeforetheswordwasintheirface.
“Hello,Angelika.”
Andimmediately,thatswordwasmetwiththecoldmetaledgeofanaxe.BearingitwasthewomanwholedtheHouseofBloodcontestants…andshewasfurious
Upclose,shemight’vebeenthemostmuscularwomanI’deverseen,nearlyastallasRaihnandbroadenoughtofillthedoorway.Thedefinedcutofherarms,exposedinhersleevelessarmor,flexedasshedeflectedthefullforceofRaihn’sblow—andifthestrainofhiswasanyindication,hewasn’tholdingback,either.
“Whereishe?”Angelikasnarled.
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“I’mnotlikethatRishanpieceofshityoukilledduringthefeast.I’mnotfallingforyourgames.Whereishe?”
Ihoverednearthedoor,myownweaponsout,butIwasn’tabouttojumpintothatunlessIhadto.Mischeseemedshockinglyblasé,watchingwithobviousinterestbutlittleconcern.
Apparently,Angelikadidn’tespeciallywantorneedananswerfromRaihn,becauseinsteadofwaitingforone,shestruck.AndRaihnwasreadyforit.Hedeflectedherblowandusedtheforceofittopushbothofthemoutintothehallway,awayfromtheentrancetotheapartment.
Whentheyfought,itwaslikewatchingtwoforcesofnaturecollide.Angelikawasvicious,everymovementwovenwithsheerpower.Thelightofthehallilluminatedthescarsupanddownherarms—shewasabloodmagicwielder.
IfsheusedsuchmagicagainstRaihn,though,itdidn’tseemtoaffecthim—save,perhaps,foraminusculelurchwhenherweaponmethis.Hewasabreathtakinglyskilledwarrior.Damnnearanartist.Inthetrial,I’dbeentoodistractedtonoticejusthowgoodhewas.Hemovedwithincrediblegraceforsuchalargeperson.Eachstrikeordodgeorstepblendedintoeachotherlikestepstoadance.Thepuffsofdarknessaroundhisswordintensifiedwitheveryswing,leavingstreaksofnightbehindeveryblowandwrappingthetwooftheminribbonsofshadow.
YetAngelikawasjustasgood,justasstrong,justasfast.Theywereevenlymatched,bothtremblingundertheforceofeachother’spower.Bythenatureofmypositioninlife,I’dgottenverygoodatsizinguppredators—atrecognizingkillers.Andrightnow,Iwaswatchingtworuthlesslyefficientonestoywitheachother.
Withoneforcefulthrustagainstheraxe,Raihnpushedheraway.“It’shisowndamnedfault.Andyouknowit,too.”
“Itwasthehuman,”sheshotback.“Iknowitwas.”
“Hewasoutofhismind.Wentafterherinthegreenhouse,ofallplaces.”
Angelikahadbeenreadytostrikeagain,butatthis,shepaused.Loweredheraxe,justafractionofaninch.
Raihndidnotlowerhis.Buthedidn’tstrike,either.“Indaylight,Angelika.”
“Thegreenhouse,”sherepeated.
“Hewaslonggone,”Raihnsaid.“Hegothimselfkilled.Hell,youshouldbethankingus.Wesavedyoufromaveryunpleasanttask.”
“Watchyourself,”shehissed.
“What?Wouldyouratherhelivedlongenoughtogetusedbythisplace?Likethosepoorbastardswefoughtinthering?”
Angelikaflinched.Herfingerslifted—paused,briefly,atherthroat.Shedidn’tspeakforalongmoment,andItensed,waitingtoseeifshewouldmoveagain.
“I’dratherkillherinthetrialsthankillherhere,”shesaid,atlast,voicelowandthickwithpromise—andatthis,hereyesfelltome,hardwithhatred.Hernostrilsflared.Ibecameveryconsciousoftherapidpaceofmyheartbeat.
“Andasforyou.”ThatglaresettledonRaihn.“You…you’reluckyit’snotyourtimeyet.Rememberrightnowexactlyhowluckyyouare.”
Thenshesimplyloweredheraxeandstalkedaway.
Wewaiteduntilshewaslonggonebeforeanyofusmoved.Raihnwasthefirsttospeak.
“Iprobablyshould’vekilledher.”
“Yousaythatlikeyouwouldhavewon,”Isaid.
Heletoutalowchuckle.“Oh,Iwouldhavewon.”
Hisrose-coloredgazeslidtome,andIbecameawareallatonceofhowclosehewasstanding—closeenoughthatIcouldsmellhim,ascentthatremindedmeofsaffronandheatbeatingdownoverthedesert,andsomethingelse,somethingIcouldn’tquiteplace.
Goosebumpsroseatmyskin,instinctsrebellingagainstallowingsomeonethisclose.Itookseveralcasualstepsback,andRaihn’sstaredriftedbacktowhereAngelikahaddisappeareddownthestairs.
“Still.Her?She’saproblem.She’stheonetowatch.”
“Ifeelsorryforher,”Mischesaidsoftly,andofferednothingmore.CHAPTERFOURTEEN
“Thatwasafoolishdecision.Itaughtyoubetterthantoserveyourselftoyourenemiesthatway.”
Ihadn’tseenVincentthisappalledbymyactionsinnearlyadecade.
Ihadnochoice,Iwantedtosay,butIswallowedthosewordsbeforetheymadeittomylips.Iknewbetter.Vincentbelievedthatyoualwayshadachoice,andifyoufoundyourselfinapositionwhereyoudidn’t,you’dmadeaverypooroneearlierthatputyouthere.Eitherway,youhadnoonetoblamebutyourself.
“IneedanallyfortheHalfmoon,andhe’sagoodone,”Isaidinstead.
“HeisaRishan.”
“Soareathirdofthecontestantsinthere.”
“ThinkaboutwhyaRishanwouldwanttogetclosetoyou,Oraya.You.”
Hepaced.Vincentonlypacedwhenhewasnervous,buteventhatwasasmooth,deliberatemovement.Threelongsteps,andasharpturn,exactlythesamelength,exactlythesamerhythm.
Hewastense.Iwastense.Itwasabadcombination,andIknewitfromthemomentIsawhim.Hehadworkedhardovertheyearstogrindmyemotionalimpulsivityoutofme.Butthestressofthecompetition,myinjury,andthechoiceI’dbeenforcedtomakebroughtmynervestothesurface.BeneathallofitlaymygriefoverIlana’sdeath;neveracknowledgedbutstillrawandbleeding,amplifyingeverynegativeemotion.
AllofthatmeantIhadtowatchmyvoiceandmywordsverycarefully.
“Ihave,”Isaid.“Hethinksthatallyingwithmewillmeanadvantagesfromyou.Asfarasselfishmotivationsgo,Icanacceptthatone.Betterthatthanhimkeepingmearoundforaquickmealiffoodgetsscarce.”
Step,step,step,turn,asVincentpivotedsharplytome.“Anditwill.”
Ialmostshiveredatthatthought.“Atleastwhenthathappens,Ihaveprotection.”
“Protection.”Hislipscurledintoasneer—hethrewthewordatmeasifI’djustsaidsomethingrevolting.
Myteethclenched,bitingdownonmyresponse.DidhethinkIwasn’twellawareofallthecaveatsandweaknessesofthatwordinthisplace?Therewasnosuchthingasprotection—notintheKejari,notintheHouseofNight,andnotinallofObitraes.Therewasnosuchthingassafety,andtherewascertainlynosuchthingastrust,notforanyoneotherthanthepersonwhostoodbeforeme.
ButmyirritationfadedunderarisingtideofconcernasIwatchedmyfatherpace.Watchedhishandrunthroughhishairinhisonlyforever-cleartell.
“Whathappened?”Iasked,quietly.
RebelactivityfromtheRishan?ThatmightexplainwhyVincentwassosensitivetothethoughtofmeallyingwithaRishan,nomatterwhoitwas.Or…maybemorethreatsfromtheHouseofBlood.Thatwouldbeevenmoredisturbing.
Ididn’tknowwhyIevenbotheredtoask.Predictably,Vincentlookedawayandsaidnothing.Asinglemuscletwitchedinhischeek,signalinghisannoyance.
ConcernknottedinmystomachasIthoughtofAngelika’ssneerandthewayshehadlookedatme,andasIthoughtofRaihn,aRishanvampire.Intheory,theKejariwasanisolatedtournament,inwhicheachcontestantstoodonequalfooting.Butinpractice?Itwasjustanextensionofthetensionsandconflictsoftheoutsideworld.
“Ifthingsarehappeningoutherethatcouldaffectwhat’shappeninginthere,Ineedtoknowaboutit,”Isaid.
“Youneedtofocusonstayingalive.Nothingelse.”
“Iamfocusingonstayingalive.”
“BythrowingyourselfintothegripofaRishan?Itaughtyoubetter.”
BeforeIcouldstopmyself,Ispat,“WouldyouratherIhaveletmyselfbleedtodeath?Ineededtoact,andItriedtocometoyouforhelpandyouweren’tthere.”
Thewordsshotfrommylipstooquicklytostop,sharpasthebladeshehadgivenmethelasttimewemet.Hiseyessnappedtome,revealingamomentaryglimmerofhurtthatquicklyhardenedtoice.
Iregrettedmywordsrightaway.Ipushedtoohard.Thechangeinhimwasstarkandimmediate,asifthesamefeatureswerenowamaskwornbyanentirelydifferentperson.
Vincent,myfather,lovedmeaboveall.ButVincent,theNightbornKing,wastooruthlesstoallowtheslightestchallenge,loveorno.
“YouthinkIhaven’tbeendoingeverythingIcantohelpyou?”hesaidcoldly.
“Ido,”Isaid.“OfcourseIdo.”
“Igaveyouthosebladestohelpyoubecomesomeonewhodeservestowieldthem.Ifyoudon’twantthat—”
“Ido.”
Thelasttimehesoundedthisway,heleftmyroomanddidnotspeaktomeagainforaweek.Iwasalittleashamedofthesudden,desperatepanicthatseizedmeattheideaofhimwithdrawinglikethatnow.
Thatforeignhardnessinhisexpressiondidnotsoften.Heturnedaway,silhouettedagainstSivrinaj’sskyline.
“Iapologize,”Isaid,pastalumpinmythroat.“Iknowyou’redoingeverythingthatyoucan.Ishouldn’thaveimpliedotherwise.”
AndImeantit.Ihadoverreactedtohisoverprotectivegrumbling.IowedeverythingthatIwastoVincent,andIneverforgotthat.
Severallong,tensesecondspassed.Iletoutaninvoluntaryexhalewhenheturnedbacktomeandhisexpressionwasnolongerthatofadisrespectedking,butofmyconcerned,tiredfather.
“Iwouldhavebeenthere,”hesaid,“ifIcould.”
ItwastheclosestI’devergettoanapology.IhadneverseenVincentapologizetoanyoneforanything,ever.Butonehadtolearnhowtohearwhatlingeredinbetweenthewords.Justlikehenevertoldmehelovedme,butIhearditineverysterninstruction.Andnow,eventhoughhedidnotsayhewassorry,Ihearditintheslightlylowercadenceofhisvoiceinthatsinglesentence.
Youhadtobend,withpeoplelikeVincent.Reachforwhattheywouldn’tgiveyouthemselves.
“Iknow,”Imurmured.
Hegavemealong,searchinglook.“Youneedtowinthis.”
Hesaiditnotwithtenderness,butstraightforwardfirmness.Adirective.
“Iknow.”
Hereachedoutandtouchedmycheek.
Iflinched,justbecauseitwassounexpected.IcouldbarelyrememberthelasttimethatVincenttouchedmeotherthantostrikemeinthesparringring.Andyet,apartofmewantedtoleanintothatsmallcaress.
WhenIwasveryyoung,heusedtohugme,sometimes.OneofmyearliestmemorieswaslayingmyheadagainstVincent’sshoulderandexperiencingthesuddenjoltofrealizationthatIfeltsafe.Evensoyoung,Iknewhowrareitwas—Ifeltitthenlikeasighofrelief,asifI’dbeenunknowinglyholdingmybreathsincethedaymyhousehadcollapsedaroundme.
Ithadbeenalong,longtimesinceI’dfeltthatway.Onedaylovebecamenotanofferingofsafety,butareminderofeverythingcruelanddangerousintheworld.
Hepulledhishandawayandsteppedback.“Keepyourally,”hesaid.“Butkeepthoseteethready,littleserpent.Watchhisback,butdon’tlethimseeyours.Becausetheminuteyouturnit,hewillkillyou.Usehim.Butneverallowhimtouseyou.”
AllthingsIwasacutelyawareof.Inodded.
Hereachedintohispocket,thenhandedmeanotherlittlevialofhealingpotion.
“Guardit,”hesaid.“Idon’tknowwhenI’llbeabletogetmore.”
Islippedthepotionintomypackandslippedoffintothenight.
Itwasmuchmoreusefulthanahug,anyway.
***
IencounterednooneelseonmywaybacktotheMoonPalace.Thehoursthisclosetodawnwereoftenquiet—mostvampireshadretreatedtotheirhomesbynow,preparingforsleep,andtherouteItookwassecluded.
Still,justasIwaspreparingtoscalethewallsofthePalacegrounds,Ipaused.
Ipeeredovermyshouldertoseenothingbutsilentcobblestonepathsandthemurky,untamedoutlineofovergrownrosevines.Notahintofmovement.Notasinglesound.
Yet,thehairsroseonthebackofmyneck,asifcoaxedtoattentionbythetouchofwatchfuleyes.
Ishuddered,turnedbacktothewall,andhoistedmyselfoverit.
***
BythetimeImadeitupallthestairs,dawnpeekedoverthehorizon.WhenIopenedtheapartmentdoor,Iwassurprisedtoseethatthecurtainshadbeenparted,andRaihn’sconsiderableformfilledthespacebetweenthem.Heleanedagainstthewindow,onearmbracedtotheglass.
“Wherewereyou?”heasked,withoutturning.
“That’snotyourconcern.”Iclosedthedoorandcrossedthesittingroom.
“It’salittlemyconcern,isn’tit?Alliesandall.”
Mother,Ihatedthatwordandallheseemedtothinkitimplied.
Isaid,pointedly,nothingasIwenttothehall.Hisfacetiltedjustenoughtowatchme.Thesilverofthemoonlighthadstartedtoflushwiththepinkpromiseofthesun,outliningthestrongangleofhischeekbonetohisjaw,bleedingdowntothemuscleofhisthroat.
Thosemusclestightenedslightlyashegavemearuefulalmost-smile.
“Youdon’tgiveaninch,doyou?”
Myeyesflickedcoldlyuphisbody.
“Doyou?Orisaninchallyouhavetooffer?”
Petty.Stupid.Ididn’tevenknowwhyIsaidit,exceptthatwhenheletoutalowlaugh,Ifounditoddlysatisfying.
“Sleepwell,”hesaid.“Ihopetheknifeunderyourpillowdoesn’tgiveyouacrickinyourneck.”
“I’musedtoit.”
“Good.We’llstarttrainingtomorrow.Needtoprepareforthenexttrial.”
Fuck.Thenexttrial.Ihadbarelyrecoveredfromthelastone,andI’dlostpreciousdaystomyrecovery.Wehadonlytwoweekstoprepare.AndthethoughtoftrainingwithRaihn—andsomehowmanagingtodothatwithoutinadvertentlyshowinghimtoomuch—mademealittleill.
“I’mthrilled,”Isaidflatly,andbegantoreturntomyroom.Butatthelastmoment,Ilookedbackovermyshoulder.Itwasrightonthecuspofdaybreak.ThecastonRaihn’sfacewasnowgolden—thedefinitivelightofthesun.Andstill,hedidn’tmove,facetothehorizon.
Icouldn’tstopmyselffromasking.“Doesn’tthathurt?”
Hedidn’tsomuchaslookatme.“Nottoobadyet.”
Bizarre.
ItwasallIcoulddotobothermyselfwiththisvampire’sstupidself-destructivehabits.Iwentbacktomyroom.Ithrewopenthecurtainstoletthelightfloodin,thendraggedthedeskchairtothedoorandwedgeditfirmlybeneaththehandle.
Sleeptookmefast.Idreamedofgoddessesandtrialsandsharpenedteeth,andexactlyhowNightbornsteelmightfeelslidingdeepintomyback.CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Webegantrainingrightaway.Thenexttrial,WaningMoon,likelywouldn’trequireallies,astheHalfmoonwastheonlyonethattypicallydemandedteamwork.Still,RaihnandMischeseemedcertainthatwehadanopportunitytohelpeachother—andthatfiveweeksoftrainingwasbetterthanthreetoseeifwecouldworkwelltogether.
Ireallydidconsiderrefusing.ButIunderstood,too,thatIwasinnopositiontoturndownhelp,evenhelpriddledwithdangerouscaveats…northeopportunitytostudymyenemy,evenifIdidn’tlovethatitmeanttheygottostudyme,too.
So,wetrainedtogether.Itwent…differentlythanIexpected.
“Whatinthesevenfuckinghellsiswrongwithyou?”
Worse.
Somuchworse.
Raihnthrewhisswordtothegroundinanutterlychildishfitoffrustration.Themetalhitthecarpetwithaforceful,deafeningTHUD,evenagainstthesoftsurface.
Me?Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?Iwasn’ttheonethrowingmyweaponsaround.Idrewbacktotheedgeofthelivingroom,gloweringathim.Mischepulledherlegsupontothearmchair,cringingashereyesdartedbetweenus.
Raihnjabbedhisfingeratme.“Wecan’tcooperateifyouwon’tletmegetclosetoyou.”
“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Crawlintoyourlap?”
“Iwon’tevendignifythatwitharesponse,”hespat.“Howmanytimesarewegoingtodothis?Wehavelessthanadayuntilthetrial.Aday.Andyou’rewastingourfuckingtime.”
Mischeheavedasighandrubbedhertemples.
Thirteennightsofthis.Nightafternightafternight.
Iwasbeginningtothinkthatourcooperationinthefirsttrialhadbeensomesortoftwistedstrokeofluck.Vincentwasaruthlessteacher,andI’dstilltakehisharshestinstruction—sessionsthatsometimespushedmetothepointoflosingconsciousness—overthis.
I’dtakeittentimesover.Twentytimes.
AtleastVincent’strainingwasstraightforward.Iknewwhathewantedfromme.This?Thiswasanexerciseinchoosingbetweentwolosingscenarios.Weneededtolearnhowtocooperate,atleastifthisalliancethingwasgoingtowork.ButIalsoneededtoprotectmyself.IneededtowatchRaihnasheworkedandlearnhisstrategies—inonlyahandfulofweeks,Iwouldneedtoexploitthem.Andatthesametime,Ineededtoshieldmyselffromhispryingeyes.
You’llbeeasytokilllater,hehadtoldme.
LikehellIwould.
Butasthenightspassed,Ilearnedthatthesetwoobjectives—beingastrongallyandprotectingmyself—wereindirectconflict.Eachgoalcompromisedtheother,andIcouldn’taffordthat.
Sowetrained,andwebickered,andweendedeachsessionmorefrustratedthantheonebefore.ButIknewtheminutewebeganthattonightwouldbethenightitfinallyexploded.Raihnwokeupitchingforafight,barelygruntingagreetingbeforegrabbinghisswordandlaunchingintoanespeciallybrutaldrill.Nohesitation,nopleasantries,nosmilesatMische’scheerfulquips,notevenanybitingjokesatmyexpense.Hecameaftermehardduringsparring,likeamanwithagrudge.Andlater,whenweswitchedtasksandpracticedourcooperativefightingagainstMische’sopposition,hisannoyanceatlasteruptedinanoutburstofrage.
“DoyouthinkIdon’tknowwhatyou’redoing?”hesnapped.“You’reworkingagainstme,notwithme.”
Thiswasamistake.Allofit.Ishould’vejustbledoutinthegreenhouse.I’dprefertodothatthanwaitforRaihntoripmythroatout,whichseemedincreasinglyinevitable.
“Workingwithyou?Whatdoesworkingwithyoulooklike,byyourstandards?Followingyou?”Athishesitation,Iscoffedbitterly.“Youdon’tevenknow.”
Thiswassomeonewhowasusedtoworkingalone,andwhenhewasn’t,hewastheleader.Mischewastalented,especiallywithmagic,butshewascontenttosupport.Thetwoofthemwereclearlyclose,thoughIstillwasn’tsureinwhatcapacity—thoughbynow,Igathereditwasn’tromantic.Regardless,theyknewhowtocomplementeachother,MischefallingtothebackwhileRaihntookuptheforefront.
Me?Thatwasn’tmystyle.Iwasusedtofightingalone.TwodecadesoftrainingfromVincenthadtaughtmehowtodothatwell:survive,alone
“Whatdoyounotunderstandaboutthis,Oraya?Wearegoingtobethrownbackintothatringinoneday.Oneday.”Hislipstwistedintoacruel,humorlesssmile.“We’vetrainedtogetherformorethanaweek,andI’mstillnottotallyconvincedyou’renotgoingtostabmeagaintheminutewe’reinthere.”
Iwasn’teither.
“MaybeIwill.Maybeit’llbemoresatisfyingthistime.”Icockedmyhead,frowned.“Dowomensaythattoyouoften?”
Hebarkedalaugh.“I’msureyou’reproudofyourselfforthatone.”
Iwas,actually.
“Oraya,look—”
Hetooktwostepsforward,andjustasquickly,Imatchedthedistanceaway.
Hepaused,eyesnarrowing.“What?”hesaid.“You’reafraidofme?”
Thecockysmilehadleftmyface.Isaidnothing.
“What,nosmart-assretortforthat?”
Hetookanotherstepforward,andagain,Itookoneback.
“Getawayfromme,”Ihissed.
Andhesaidquietly,“No.”
Anotherstep.
Ihitthewall.
“Raihn,”Mischewhispered,“maybedon’t…”
Mypalmsbegantosweat.Raihnwasnowtwostridesawayfromme.Mybackpressedagainstthewoodpaneling,wedgedtothecorner.
Evenduringtraining,Ineverlethimgetthisclose.Hewasonlythreestridesaway—twoofhis.Thatwashowmuchlargerthanmehewas.Heworealinenshirtthatclungtohisbody,sweatywiththeexertionofthelastsixhoursofexercise,highlightingeachswellanddipofhismuscularform.Hishairwasbound,butoverthehours,strandsofithadescapedandnowplasteredthemselvestohisfaceandneck.Icouldn’tdecideifhelookedmoreorlessintimidatingthisway—more,becausehelookedabitunhinged,andless,becauseIappreciatedalloftheseunpolishedthingsmorethanIappreciatedanyotheraspectofhim.
Hiseyesnowseemedespeciallyred,andhedidn’tbreakthemfrommineforevenamomentashetookanotherstep.
“We’reallies,”hesaidfirmly.“Youneedtoletmegetclosetoyou.”
Myheartbeatfaster.Faster.Faster.Mythroatwasthick,myskinslick.
“No,”Isaid,ascalmlyasIcouldmanage.“Idon’t.”
Therealizationshiftedinhisface.“Youareafraidofme.”
NoIwasn’t,Itoldmyself.Feardidnotexist.Fearisjustacollectionofphysicalresponses.
ButIwasn’tfoolinganyone.Ofcoursehecouldfeelmyheartbeat.Ofcoursehecouldsmelltherushofmyblood.
“Raihn…”Mischesaid,fromtheothersideoftheroom.
“Backup,”Icommanded.
“Iamnotgoingtohurtyou.HowclosedoIhavetogetwithoutsplittingyouopentomakeyoubelievethat?”
Don’ttrustanyone,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.
Raihntookanotherstep.“Thisclose?”
Ididn’tblink.Couldn’t.Couldn’ttakemygazeoffapredatorthisneartome.Lessthanonestride.SocloseIcouldcountthebeadsofsweatonhiscollarbone.SocloseIcouldseetheflutterofhispulsebeneaththeangleofhisjaw.
“Stop.”
“Thisclose?”
“Back.Up.Raihn.”
Helookedmedeadintheeye.
“No,”hesaid.
Andtookonemorestep.
“BACKTHEFUCKUP.”Islammedmypalmagainstthehardmuscleofhischest.
Theburstofmagicblindedme.Deafenedme.White-blueconsumedmyvision.Mybacksmashedagainstthewall.
Raihnwentflyingacrosstheroom.
Andtheflareoflightfadedjustintimeformetoseethewindowshatter,ashewentcareeningthroughtheglass.CHAPTERSIXTEEN
“Shit!”Mischegasped.“Howdidyoudothat?”
Ibarelyheardherovertherushingbloodinmyears,andevenifIhad,itmightaswellhavebeenmyownvoiceinmyhead—becauseallIcouldthinkasIdoveacrosstheroomwas,Ix’stits,howdidIdothat?
WewereatthetopofoneoftheMoonPalace’stallestspires,hundredsoffeetabovetheground.Fuck,didIjustkillhim?Ididn’tmeanto.Atleast,notyet.
Myheartinmythroat,Irantothewindow,thrustmyheadthroughtheopenframe,and—
—nearlytoppledbackwardsasastreakoftanandblacksoaredupfrombelowwithenoughforcetosendmyhairwhippingaroundmyface.
Raihn’swingswerespread,lookingasiftheyweremadeofthenightitself,amillionvariationsofpurpleandredandblackandrust.Almostprettyenoughtodistractfromthesheerfuryonhisface.
“You,”hebreathed,“arebeingashitabouttrustingme,andyetyou’vebeenhidingthat?”
Thewordssatonthetipofmytongue—Ididn’tknow,Idon’tknowhowthehellIjustdidthat—butIswallowedthemdown.Ididn’tneedthemtoknowthatIwasn’tevenawareofmyownabilities.Givethemyetanotherweaknesstotakeadvantageof.
Letthembealittleafraidofme,foronce.
SoItuckedmytremblinghandsintomypocketsandsimplyshrugged.“I’msureyou’rehidingallsortsofthingsfromme.”
“Idon’tknowhowIeverthoughtthiswasgoingtowork.”Helandedbackintheapartment.Themovementwaseffortlesslysmooth,theboundarybetweentheskyandthegroundnothingbutasinglegracefulstep.“Youdon’tknowhowtogiveafuckaboutasinglepersonotherthanyourself.Justlikealltherestofthem.TheNightbornprincess,livingupinVincent’scastle,probablytaughtthatthewholefuckingworldbelongedtoher.Isthatwhathepromisedyou?Becomejustlikehim,learnhowtodouble-crossalltherightpeople,andthiswholeshittydeadworldwillbeyours.Isthatwhatyouthinkyouhavewaitingforyou?”
“Don’ttalkaboutmyfamilythatway,”Isnarled.
Hescoffed—asoundofpurehatred.“Family.Whatasadlifeyoumusthave.”
Myfiststrembled,white-knuckledatmysides.“Whatthehellhaveyoudonetoearnmytrust?AmIsupposedtobesohonoredthatyouchosemethatIfallintoalittlepileofgelatinatyourfeet?TypicalRishantrash.Lookatwherethatkindofentitlementgotyourpeoplebeforeyouspeakthatwayaboutmyfather.”
Theroombrightened,theorangeoftheflamesturningwhiteinfitsandbursts.Awell-timedgustofwindwhippedmyhairandRaihn’saboutourfaces.Hisentirebodywasrigid,hiswingsstillout,hiseyesspearingmewhilemineskeweredhimtothewall.
Mischedartedbetweenus.“Alright.Alright.Everyoneisangry.That’senough.”
Iwasn’tgoingtobethefirstonetobreakthestare.
“That’senough,”sherepeated,voicehighandnervous.
Atlast,Raihnturnedaway.
“Fine,”Isaid,doingthesame.“I’mdone.”
“Metoo.”
Hesimplysteppedfromtheopenwindowandintothenightsky.Ithrewopenthedoor,settingoffdownthehallway.BothofusleftMischestandingthereamongthebrokenglass,lookinghopeless.
***
IneededVincenttobeatourmeetingspot,andyetIwasn’tallthatsurprisedwhenhewasn’t.Iwenteverynight.Hemetmelessthanhalfofthosetimes,andwhenhedid,hewasdistracted.Somethingbigwashappening,eventhoughherefusedtotellmewhatitwas.Andsimilarly,maybehesensedmymountingannoyancewithmysituationwithRaihn,eventhoughIneverutteredawordaboutit.IknewwellbynowwhichthingswerebetterkeptfromVincent.
ButtonightIwassoangry—soconfused—thatIwouldhavetoldhimeverythingifhehadbeenthere.He,atleast,wouldhaveanswersaboutwhatmymagichadjustdone,andIneededthosedesperately.TheforceIhadusedtothrowRaihnacrosstheroomwassowildlydisproportionatetoanythingI’devermanagedbefore,andIdidn’tevenknowhowIhaddoneit.Now,asIwalkedalonethroughthedarkenedstreets,Itriedtosummonthatpowerandwasgreetedwithonlyafewfamiliarweaksparksatmyfingertips.
Still,maybeasmallpartofmewasgratefulformyfather’sabsence.AsmuchasIwantedanswers,IhatedtorevealemotionsthatIcouldn’tcontrol.AndI’dalreadydonethatmorethanenoughtoday.Lostcontrol.Ofmymagic.Ofmytemper.
Ihadbeentooraw.AndIhadbeenpetulant.Iknewit.IhadallowedRaihntogoadmeandbowedtomyownworstimpulses.Hewaswrongaboutalotofthings—alotofthings—butmaybehewasrightthatIneededtoeitherchoosetobeanallyorproperlybecomeanenemy.
WhenitbecameclearVincentwasn’tcoming,IwanderedthroughthedesertedgroundsoftheMoonPalace.Ilongedtogotothehumandistrictsandburythissenseofhelplessnesswithabladeinsomevampirepieceofshit’schest.IthadbeenyearssinceI’dgonesolongwithoutit.Ihadn’tevenrealizedhowreliantIwasuponthatrelease.
ThefirsttimeIkilledthere,ithadbeenanaccident,andnow,Icouldbarelyfunctionwithoutit.
Itwasonlyafewdaysafter…after.Myowngriefandlonelinesshadbeeneatingmealive.IthadbeenyearssinceIhadbeensoobsessedwithmyownflesh,butthoseawfuldays,Ihadgonebacktooldbadhabits,openinglittlepathsofbloodovermyskinandwatchinghoweasilyittore,howslowithealed.Ihatedthatmybodywassoweak.ThatitattractedinallthewaysIdidn’twantitto.Thatitborethemarksfromeverybadmemory,liketheonesthatnowmarkedmythroat,thentwobarely-scabbedwounds.
Iwasn’tsurewhatIhadbeenlookingforthatnightwhenIwenttothehumandistricts,butIhadn’tbeenlookingtokill.IhadneverfeltlikelessofavampirethanIdidinthoseawfuldays—maybeIhadbeensearchingforwhateverconnectionIcouldn’tgetintheNightborncastle.MaybeIhadhopedIwouldfindsomemissingpieceofmyself,whenIhadneverfeltmorepainfullyincomplete.
Instead,Ihadfoundadistrictfullofhumanswhoseemedlikeforeigncreatures,andavampirewhointendedtopreyonthem.WhenIsawthevampirestalkingayoungwomanwashinglaundrybehindhercrumblinglittlehouse,Ididn’tthink.Ijustacted.ItwaseasierthanIthoughtitwouldbe.Iwaswell-trained.Thevampirewasnotpreparedforafight.
After,I’dpanickedandrunbacktotheNightborncastle.Ispentthedayinmywashroom,vomiting.Icouldn’twashthebloodfrommyhands,couldn’tscrubthesightofmyvictim’sfacefromtheinsidesofmyeyelids.I’dbeencertainthattheminuteVincentshowedupatmydoor,Iwouldconfesseverythingtohim.Hewouldlockmeupforthenextdecade,andinthatmoment,Iwouldhavebeengratefulforit.
Butthehourshadpassed.Ilayonmybedandwatchedthesunlightfilterthroughthecurtainsasguiltsettledinmystomachlikeadisagreeablemeal.Irealizedthatkillingthatvampire—savingthosehumans—hadmademefeelpowerful.Andtheguiltwasfading,butthestrengthwasnot.
WasmyguiltworthmorethanthelifeofthehumanwomanI’dsaved?WereVincent’sarbitraryrulesworthmorethanthecountlessotherhumansthatmonsterwouldhavekilled,ifhehadn’tbeenstopped?No.Ihadn’tfeltguiltyaboutkillingthatman.Ifeltguiltyaboutlyingtomyfather.
ButVincenthadmademethisway,andaliewasapettysin.
Irealizedthatday,asIstaredatthesunlight-speckledceiling,thatI’dgoneafulltwenty-fourhourswithoutthinkingaboutthefacethathauntedme.
IwishIcouldsayitwasmynobleintentionsthatbroughtmebacktotheslumsthenextnight.Butitwasn’t.Itwasmyownselfishness.I’dratherdreamofthesedyingfacesthantheotherone.Atleastthismademestrongerinsteadofweaker.
Now,IfeltnothingwhenIkilledbutthesatisfactionofajobwelldone.Amarketchedupontheworld.Thatwasworthsomething,toamortallivingamongstimmortalbeings.Awayformetotellthisplace,Youthinkmylifeisworthnothing,butIcanstillleaveastainonyouthatcan’tbewashedout.
Myhandsitchednowtoleavethatmark,likeanopiumaddicttwitchingfortheirnextfix.Butdawnwastooclose,andthehumandistrictswerefarfromtheMoonPalaceonfoot.Icouldn’triskthatjourney.
Instead,Iwalkedbacktheslowway,windingthroughdesertedbackpaths.IremainedclosetotheLituroRiver,oneoftwotributariesthatbrokeupthecityandconvergedtoformtheinnercityofSivrinaj,rightwheretheNightborncastlesat.Ioftenlookedoutoverthisviewfrommyroom.Fromupthere,thestreamsweresereneandpeaceful,likeelegantwindingstreaksofpaintthroughthecity.
Upclose,itsmelledlikepiss.
Ipausedattheriverbedandwatchedthewatertrickleby.Abreezetrembledmyhair,andwithitcameawarm,familiarscent—tobacco.
Thehairsroseonthebackofmyneck.Iwasn’talone.
Iglancedtomylefttoseeanotherfigurestandingnearthewater,acigarillotohislips.Heliftedhischinandletoutalongexhale,thesmokesilverasitcaughtthemoonlight.
Thesmellhitmeagain,stronger,andwithitcameawaveoffamiliaritythatmadethatseepingwoundinmychestache.
IhalfexpectedtohearIlana’scough.ToseeherfacewhenIturnedaround.AndMother,Ineededthat.IcraveditevenmorethanIcravedpower.
“Hey.”
Myhandonmyblade,Iapproachedthefigure.
“CanIhaveoneofthose?I’llbuyitoffyou.”
Whatiswrongwithyou?IheardVincent’svoicehissinmyear.Approachingastranger?Forwhat?
Thefigureturned,coldlightfallingacrossonlythelowerpartofhisface,highlightingmoon-paleskin,anarrow,angularjaw,andlipsthatcurledslightly.
“Ofcourse.Helpyourself.”
Hishand,cladinleathergloves,reachedfrombeneathhislongcoat,holdingalittlewoodenbox.Ireachedtotakeitfromhim,buthisgripdidn’tletup
Hecockedhishead,themovementallowingmoonlighttocreepfurtheracrosshisface.Hewashandsome,hisfeatureselegantandtoosharp,likehonedsteel.Beneathaswoopofhairthatwaseithersilverorveryfairblond—itwasimpossibletotellinthedarkness—asetofyellow-ambereyesnarrowedatme,thenbrightenedinrecognition.
“Iknowyou.”
Hesmiled.ItwasthesortofsmilethatnodoubtloosenedundergarmentsandopenedthroatsalloverObitraes.
“Oh?”Isaid.
Hereleasedthebox,andIputdistancebetweenusasIsliditopenandwithdrewacigarillo.Mother,Iwantedtoshovemyfaceintothisbox.Justinhalethatfamiliarscentandpretenditwasmyfriend.
“IsawyouintheFullMoontrial.Hadalotofbetshingedonyou.”Hechuckledsoftlyandshookhishead,thelightcatchingasinglerubydanglingfromoneear.“Theoddsagainstyouwerestaggering.Lotofpeoplelostalotofmoney.”
Hestruckamatchandofferedmetheflame.Ileanedjustcloseenoughtolightmycigarillo,mumbledathankyou,anddrewaway.
“Sorryaboutyourcoinpurse.”
Adifferent,slowersmilerolledacrosshislips.“Sorry?Ohno,dove.Idon’tmakebetsIlose.”Iofferedhimthebox,andheshookhishead.“Keepit.Youpaidforit.”
Heturnedaway,offeringonemoreinscrutableglanceashewalkeddownthepath.“Lookingforwardtotomorrow.Goodluckoutthere.”CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Iconsiderednotreturningtotheapartment,butIdidn’thaveanywhereelsetogo.Iwashalf-surprisedthatnobodyheldthedoorshutasIturnedmykeyandentered.Raihnhadn’treturned,andMischesweptglassfromthefloor.Theshatteredwindowwasstillwideopen,astrongbreezemakinghershort,curlyhairflutteraboutherfacelikebutterflywings.
ShegavemeabiggrinwhenIwalkedin,likeshewasgenuinelythrilledtoseeme.“You’rehere!”
Sheseemedalittlesurprised.Iwas,too,frankly.
“Wantmetopatchthatup?”Igesturedtothewindow.
“Oh,no.I’lldosomethingwithitonceRaihncomeshome.”
Home,shesaid,socasually.Likethisplacewasahome.
Inoddedandwanderedcloser.Shehadalreadycleanedupmostofthebrokenglass,nowjustsweepingthesmallestpiecesintoalittletraytothrowinthegarbage.Ifeltembarrassed,likeasmallchildafterthrowingatempertantrum.
“Doyouneedhelp?”
“No,”shesaidcheerfully.“Butthankyou!”Shewavedtothetable.“Sit.There’sfood.”
Iwasn’thungry,butIjoinedheranyway.Shetookaseatandsippedagobletofblood,andthoughshehadgesturedtothechairacrossfromhers,Istillpickedtheoneontheoppositeendofthetable.
Insteadofreachingforthefood,Ipulledoutthecigarillobox.
“Doyoumind?”
Shegavemeaknowingsmile.“Lifeistooshortnottoindulge.”
Whatanoddthingforavampiretosay.Vampireliveswerenotshortbyanymeasure.Butthenagain…didn’teveryonehaveashortlife,inhere?
Andbesides,MischewasthemostunusualvampireI’devermet.
Iwatchedhersipherblood,lookingcontentasshegazedoutthewindow.Likethefightearlierhadn’tevenfazedher.
“CanIaskyouaquestion,Mische?”
“Mm-hm.”
“WhyareyouwithRaihn?”
Herfacesnappedtome,aghast.“WithRaihn?I’mnotwithRaihn.”
“No…Iknowyou’renotwithhimlikethat.”I’dwonderedaboutitatfirst,especiallysincevampiresfuckedlikerabbits,butitbecamequicklyobviousthatMischeandRaihnhadaplatonicrelationship.Theysleptinseparatebedroomsandtreatedeachotherfarmorelikesiblingsthanlovers.
Still,thatonlymadeithardertounderstand.Theywerejustsodifferent.Icouldn’timaginedraggingsomeonelikeMischeintoatournamentlikethis.Atleastiftheywerefucking,IcouldunderstanditevenifIdidn’tagreewithit.Peopledidallkindsofnonsensicalthingswhenblindedbygoodsex.
AndRaihnlookedlikehewasprobablyverygoodatsex.
Thatthoughtshockedmetheminuteitcrossedmymind,andIslammedmymentaldoorsagainstitashardasIcould.
“He’smybestfriend,”Mischesaidsimply,asifthatexplainedeverything
“But…why?”
Shethrewherheadbackandletoutahigh,fulllaugh.
“I’mgoingtotellhimthatsometime,”shesaidwhenshecollectedherself.“Yourface!But…why?”Herimitationofmyvoicewascomicallylowandflat,herfacetwistingintoanexpressionofexaggerateddisgust.
Look,itwasafairquestion.
“Lotsofreasons.”Herinsultingimpressionofmefadedintoasoftsmile.“Hewasthereformewhennooneelsewas.He’sthemostloyalpersonI’veevermet.Themosttrustworthy.”
“Hm.”Imadeanoncommittalnoise,probablylookingasunconvincedasIfelt.
OtherthanVincent,I’dnevertrulymetatrustworthyvampire.Notreally.Allofthemwouldskintheirownchildreniftheythoughttheirpowerwasunderattack.
“It’sjust…”Hereyesdriftedtothesky,farawayinthought.“Ispentalotoftimealone,before.Ididn’trealizehowimportantitwastoreallyhavesomeone.Tohavesomeonewhowouldjust—whowouldkillforyou.Youknow?”
Killingdidn’tespeciallyseemtobeagreatfavororsacrificeforRaihn.Yet,Icouldn’tbringmyselftochallengeherpoint,becauseIknewexactlywhatshemeant.Forme,Vincentwasthatperson.EvenwhenIhadnooneelse,Ihadhim,andIknewbeyondanydoubtinthisworldorthenextthathewoulddoliterallyanythingforme.
“Alotofpeopledon’tknowhowtolove.Raihnhasalotofflaws,butheknowshowtolove.Oratleasthe…”Alittlewrinkledeepenedbetweenherbrows,andhervoicetrailedoffbeforeshejerkedherselfoutofherthought,lookedbacktome,andgrinned.
“That,andhe’saverygoodcook.Averygoodcook.”
Iwonderedifmydisbeliefshowedonmyface.Icouldn’timagineanyofthosethings.Theloyalty.Thelove.Definitelynotthecooking.
Hervoicewentashademoreserious.“Thatwasn’thimtoday.”
“Oh?”Isaiddryly.“Thenwhowasit?”
“Thepast.”Shegavemeasadsmile.“Maybeourskindoesn’tscarthesameasyours,butourheartsdo.Sometimestheyneverheal.”
MyscoffwasnotasconvincinglydismissiveasIwisheditwas.
Sheasked,“So…wasthatyou?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Today.The,uh…window.Themagic.Wereyouhidingitthiswholetime?”
Ididn’tknowwhyIfoundithardtolietoMische.Shewasjustsouncomfortablygenuine.Iexhaledapuffofsmokeinsteadofanswering,becausealiewasdifficultandthetruthwasembarrassing.
“Ah.”Shenodded.“Isee.”
“It’sunpredictable.”IsoundedmoredefensivethanImeantto.
“Wecanworkonittogether.”
Mother,thatwasastatementthatshouldhavebeenterrifyingtome.Andyet,itwasstrangelycomforting.
“Hedeservedtogooutthewindow,”Isaid.
“Hedid,”sheagreed.Then,moreseriously,sheasked,“Areyougoingtoleave?”
ItookadeepdragofmycigarilloandrelishedthewaythesmokeburnedmynoseasIexhaled.
“No.”
“Thatwouldbeastupidthingtodothedaybeforeatrial.”
“Itwould.”
“Whatdoyouthinkit’sgoingtobe?Thetrial?”
I’dspentplentyoftimewonderingaboutit,buttherewasnothingwecoulddobutspeculate.TheWaningMoontrialwasoneofthebiggestwildcardsintheKejari.Yearafteryear,itwasdrasticallydifferent.ThefirsttrialtraditionallydetailedNyaxia’sescapefromthelandoftheWhitePantheon.Butthesecondcouldlandatsomanydifferentplacesinherstory—perhapswhenshefoundtheunderworld,herlovestorywithAlarus,theGodofDeath,oranyoneofthemanylegendaryadventuresthattheyhadtogether.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.
“Areyounervous?”
Isaidnothing.Icouldn’tdenyit,butIwouldn’tadmititaloud,either.
Shedidnotwaitforananswer.“Iam,”shesighed,takinganotherdrinkofblood.
“Itmightbeaboutherjourney,”Itheorized.“Herjourneydowntothelandofthedead.”
Eventhatgaveuslittletogoon.Ajourneycouldtakesomanyforms,couldbeinterpretedinlimitlessways.
“Doyouthinkshewasscaredbackthen?”Mischemused.
“Nyaxia?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shewasagoddess.”
“Barely,inthebeginning.Anobody.Andsoyoung.”
Ipaused.Nyaxia,atthispointinherstory,wasonlyoneofcountlesspowerlessoffspringproducedbytheWhitePantheon;notonlyalessergoddessherself,butthechildofone.Noonewouldevenknowifshehaddiedaloneinthewilderness,letalonemournher.Mostlegendsputheratonlytwenty,practicallyaninfantbythestandardsofthedeities.
Peoplelikeherwereborntobeusedandthrownawaybytheothergods.Fucked,feastedupon,anddiscarded.
Mischewasprobablyright.Shehadprobablybeenterrified.
Butthatwastwothousandyearsago,andnowNyaxiawasstaggeringlypowerful—powerfulenoughtodefytheWhitePantheononherown.Powerfulenoughtogiveanentirecontinenthergiftofvampirismandcreateacivilizationofherfollowers.AndpowerfulenoughthatallofObitraesnowlivedanddiedandlovedandsacrificedatherfeet,forever.
“Well,”Isaid,“thatchanged.”
“Butthinkofallshehadtogiveupforit.”
Herhusband.MurderedbytheWhitePantheonaspunishmentformarryingNyaxia
Iconsideredthis.Yes,maybethePantheontookherlover.ButNyaxiaalsotookbackherownpower.Icouldimaginefartooclearlyhowgoodthatmustfeelafteralifetimeofweakness.IwasabitashamedtoadmitthethingsIwouldbewillingtosacrificeforit,myself.
“Atleastsheisn’tafraidanymore,”Isaid.
“No,”Mischereplied,thoughtfully.“I’dguessnot.Butshe’sprobablyawfullyunhappy,don’tyouthink?”
***
Ireturnedtomyroomnotlongafterthat,butIwastoonervoustosleep.Instead,Iwatchedthecoloroftheskyturntoashred.IcouldhearMischeshufflingarounddownthehall,butnotRaihn’sreturn.
Iwasbeginningtodriftoffwhenacrashmademyeyessnapopen.Iwenttothedoor,listeningcarefully.AseriesofdullTHUMPsandthesoundofrustlingfabricechoedfromthelivingroom.
“Youcutitsoclose.”Mischewastryingtowhisperandfailing.
“Iknow.”
“Gods,lookatyou.”
“Iknow.”
“Raaaaihn…”
“Iknow,Mische.”
Mycuriositygotthebetterofme.
Very,veryslowly—very,verysilently—Iremovedthechair,crackedmydoor,andslippedintothehallway.IpeeredaroundthecornertoseeMischeyankingthecurtainsclosedasRaihnsatheavilyononeofthecouches.Ormaybecollapsedwasabetterword,likeallhislimbsjustdecidedtogiveupatthesametime.
Goddess,washedrunk?
“Ithoughtyousaidafterlastyearyouweren’tgoingtodothisagain!”Mischewasawfulatspeakingquietly.Noonecouldevenblamemeforeavesdropping.
“Fuckit.What’simmortalityifwedon’tuseittodothesamethingsoverandoveragain,forever,untiltheendoftime?”
Oh,hewasdefinitelydrunk.
Shesighedandturnedtohim.Henowlayagainstthecouch,hischintippedback.Hereallywasamess—clothesstainedwithI-didn’t-even-know-what,hairtangledoverhisshoulders.
“So,”shesaid.“Today.”
SheturnedandIsteppedbackquicklytoremainoutofsight,soIcouldnolongerseethem,onlyhearthem.
Heletoutalowgroan.“Whataboutit?”
Asilence,whichwaspresumablyfilledwithMische’spointedlook.
Thegroanbecameasigh.“Toomuch?”
“Definitelytoomuch.”
“Sheshouldbeabletotakeit.”
“Thatwashertakingit.”
“Well…notlikethat.Not‘takingit’bythrowingmeoutafuckingwindow.”
“Andwasthatyou‘takingit,’idiot?”
Silence.Icouldimaginethelookonhisface.
Hervoicegrewsofter.“Thinkaboutwhatitmusthavebeenlikeforher.Growinguplikethat.”
Mynosewrinkled.Growinguplikewhat?
IwasalmostinsultedthatthispointearnedathoughtfulsilencefromRaihn.
Then,“Well,woeisher.So?Weallhaveourshit.”
“Yoursisn’therfault.”
Alongpause.
IchancedastepclosersoIcouldpeeraroundthecorner.Raihn’sheadwastiltedback,hiseyeslookingstraightuptotheceiling.Mischenowstoodbehindhim,leaningoverthebackofthechairtorestherarmsaroundhisneck,herchinonthetopofhisheadincasualaffection.
“Youknowthatwasn’therfault,”shesaidagain.“Thatwasyourfault.”
Myeyebrowsroseslightly.Raihndidnotseemlikethekindofpersontosufferthatkindofinsult—fewvampireswere.Itensed,asifcringingonMische’sbehalfforasharprebuff,verbalorphysical.
Butinstead,tomyshock,Raihnjustletoutalongsigh.
“Iknow,”hesaid.“Iknow.”
Hepattedherarm,andshepressedachastekisstothetopofhishead.
“Atleastthedayisover.”
“Smallvictories.”
“Drinksomewater.Nowyou’regoingtohavetosurviveatrialhungover,youfool…”
TheirwhispersfadedawayasIbackeddownthehall.CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Wedidn’tspeaktoeachothermuchwhennightfallcame,andIwasgratefulforthat.Iwasonedge,andIdidn’ttrustmyselfnottosnapatRaihnandstartawholeotherfightbeforethetrialevenbegan.Aftermutteredgoodevenings,wefollowedournow-familiarlittletrailofshadowuntilwemetwiththerestofthecontestantsinthegreatroom
ItwasthefirsttimeI’dseentheotherssincethelasttrial.Theenergyhadpalpablychanged.Gonewastheexcitedanticipationfromourfirstgathering,replacedwithamoredesperatefreneticanxiety.SeveralsetsofeyesjumpedtomethemomentIwalkedintotheroom,nosestwitching,thewhitesoftheireyesbright.
Iknewthatlook.RaihnandMischehadstolenenoughbloodtosustainthemtheselastweeks,butclearly,noteveryonewassolucky.
Raihnseemedtonoticethistoo,andwassurprisinglydisconcertedbyit,steppingabitclosertomeashedrewhissword.Andequallysurprisingly,Ilethim,myownweaponsgrippedtightinmyhands.
Noonespoke.
Weknewwhattoexpectthistime.Justwhenthesilencebegantofeelawkwardlylong,theworldfellaway.
***
Evenprepared,theroarofthecrowdmomentarilystunnedme,violentincontrasttotheMoonPalace’ssilence.
Itookstockofmysurroundingsfast.
RaihnandMischeweregone.Noonestoodbesideme.Thesandbeneathmyfeetquiveredwithdistantimpact.Iblinkedintowhitemist,whichundulatedinlazyfurls,illuminatedbythebluelightofNightfiretorches.Blackstonewallssurroundedmeonthreesides,cradlingaglassceiling,presumablytostopthewingedcontestantsfromflyingabovethem.Theceilingwasn’tsmooth,butcraftedintodipsandvalleyslikeaninvertedtopographyoftheearth.
Isquintedintothemist.Betweenthesmokeandthedarkness,Ihadonlyafewfeetofvisibilityinfrontofme.Icouldseenomovement,norhearanyoneelsenearby.Ipressedmypalmtothewallandfeltonlyrock.Itwasroughandunfinished.Thehallbeforemewoundintothedarkness.
Iinhaledtheharshscentofsmokeand…somethingelse,somethinglightandominouslypleasantthatIcouldn’tplace.
Itookafewcautioussteps.Echoesofclashesrangoutinthedistance,asifsomeofmyfellowcontestantshadmettheiropponents—whoeverorwhatevertheywere.
Thehallwaysbenttoasinglesharpturntotheleft.Weaponsready,Ifollowedit.
Ifoundmyselfface-to-facewithIbrihim,whohadjustemergedfromaroundanothercornerstraightahead.
Webothstopped,glancingateachother,thenthecorridorbeforeus.Halfwaybetweenus,anotherhallwayveeredtotheright.Ourpathhadsplitthreeways—therouteIhadcomefrom,theoneIbrihimhad,andthepathforward.
Amaze.Thiswasamaze.Itouchedtheuncutstoneandlookedupatthestrangeceilingwithnewinsight.Itwastheundersideoftheearth—becausethiswasintendedtomimicthejourneytotheunderworld.NyaxiahadwanderedforweeksafterescapingtherealmofthegodsbeforeatlastfindingherwaytoAlarus’sterritory.Shehadbeenlost,sowewouldbe,too.
IbrihimandIbothstilled,therealizationhittinghimasithadme.Icouldbarelyseehisfacethroughthelayersofunearthlymist,butIknewhewatchedmejustasclosely,andIknewbetterthantounderestimatehim.
Slowly,Iedgeddownthehall,craningmynecktopeeraroundthecorner.Amassivesilverdoorstoodthere,lightplayingoffanembossedtableauofaman’sstern,eyelessface—Alarus.Itwasfirmlyclosed.Nohandle.
Ibrihimhadcomecloser,too,andIkeptoneeyeonhimasIapproachedthedoor.Somethingshiftedbeneathmyfeet.Ilookeddown.I’dsteppedonablockofstone,whichnowsankslightlyintothesand.
Adullgrindingsoundshooktheair.
Thedoorbeforeusopened,leadingtoanotherhallway.Inthefoggydistancebeyond,Icouldmakeoutanotherturn,thesoundsofdistantviolencecloser.
IbrihimandIpeeredateachotherwarily.Hemadenomoveforme,soIdidn’tmove,either.Instead,Isteppedclosertothedoor—
—anditimmediatelyslammeddownwithenoughforcetoshaketheground.
Ilurchedbackwards,nearlytrippingovertheslab.WhenIsteppedbackontoit,thedoorbegantoriseagain.
Oh.
Isteppedoff.Thedoorslammedbackdown.
Shit.
IlookedatIbrihim.Understandingsettledoverusatthesametime.
Thedoorwouldnotremainopenwithoutweightonthestone.Butitneededtobedeadweight,becausewhoeverwasleftherewouldn’tbeabletomakeittotheothersidealone.
Hegavemeaweak,lopsidedsmile,revealingscarredgums.
“Iwouldn’tbehereifIwasn’theretowin,”hesaid,somewhatapologetically,beforehehurledafuckingstaratme.
ThiswaswhatIbrihim’sparents,afterall,hadbeensoworriedabout.Hehadbeenaquietchild,buthewasalsoaninnatelytalentedwarrior.Sotheydideverythingtheycouldtomakehimalessefficientkiller.Theyruinedhislegs.Theytorehiswings.Theytookhisteeth.Buttheycouldn’ttakeawayhisuseofmagic.
Which,unfortunately,wasalsovery,verygood.
Idroppedtothegroundjustintimetokeepmyfacefrombecomingascaldedmassofflesh.Hismagic,whichdrewuponthepowerofstars,wasn’tasstrongasAsteris,butitwasstillplentydeadly.Heflungthosestreaksoflightliketheywerenothing.
Idovearoundthecorner,headingbacktomydeadend.Ipressedtothewall,listening—waiting.Myarmached,theburnblisteringwherehehadgrazedmyshoulder.TwominutesintothisthingandIwasalreadyinjured.Fabulousstart.
Hecouldn’tshootmeherewithoutcomingafterme.Andhewouldneedto,becauseheneededmybodyweighttogetthatdooropen.
Longsecondspassed.Ibrihimwasn’tstupid.HeknewwhatIwasdoing.Knewhewasputtinghimselfatadisadvantage,andthathehadtodoitanyway.
Istrainedoverthesoundsofthecrowdandthedistantfightinginafutileattempttohearhisfootsteps—fuck,whatIwouldn’tgivenowforthatvampirehearing—
Themomentheapproached,Ileaptonhim.
Ihadoneshot.Ineededtohitskinbeforehehadtimetoreact.
Hehadn’tbeenexpectingthepoison,reelingawaywithagaspofpainasitatethroughthefirstwound,aslashacrosshisforearm.Ourfightdevolvedintowildchaosimmediately—himforcinghimselfnottopullawayasthepoisonscorchedhisskin,mesufferingthroughtheburnsofhisstarlightonmyhandsasItriedtopinhisdown.
Normally,Iwouldbetryingtoburymybladeasdeepintohischestaspossible.Impossiblenow.Ididn’thavethetime,distance,orleverageforashotpowerfulenoughtogettotheheart.ButIcouldstilldevourhimwithahundredlittlebites.Letthatpoisondoitswork,slowly.
Injuredorno,hewasbiggerthanme.Igothimtotheground,crawledoverhisbody,openingmarkaftermarkaftermarkinhisarmor.Butthatlastedonlyforacoupleofminutesbeforeheflungmeaway.Iletoutanoofasmybacksmackedthesand,knockingthebreathoutofme.
Notimetocatchitashecrawledoverme.Ibarelymanagedtomovemylefthanddown,soitwastrappedbetweenourbodiesashisweightpinnedme.Suffocating.Icouldn’tmove.HegrabbedmyrighthandandwrencheditabovemyheadwithaviolentCRACK
“Ialwayslikedyou,”hepanted.
“Metoo,”Isaid,andtwistedmyleftarmjustenoughtoburythebladeinhisgut.
Hiseyeswidened.Heopenedhislips—maybeheintendedtospeak,buttheonlythingthatcameoutwasawet,wordlessgruntofpain.Thepoisonworkedfast,sizzlingasitdissolvedhisskin.Itateatmyhand,too,wherehisblooddrippeddown.
Ipushedhimoffme.Hewasalive,butbarelyconscious,clawingathisabdomen.Ithadbecomeadisgustingmessoftatteredleather,pus,andblood.
Igrabbedhisarmsandpulled.Fuck,hewasheavy.Idraggedhimovertotheslabanddroppedhimontothestone.
Thedooropenedbehindme,butIstareddownatIbrihimashisheadlolled,eyesslittedtomeetmine.
He’dlive.Miserably,andevenmoremaimedthanhewasbefore,buthe’dlive.Ihadtoputanendtothat.
Itshouldn’thavebeenhard.Ihadkilledcountlesstimes.Ididn’tknowwhyIfoundmyselfhesitatingasIbrihimlookedupatme.Maybebecausewehadalwaysseensomethingfamiliarineachother,evenifweneveracknowledgedit.
“I’msorry.”ThewordsslippedfrommylipswithoutmypermissionasIpreparedtoslidemybladethroughhischest.
ButbeforeIcouldbringitdown,thegroundshook.Adeafeninggroanfilledmyears.
Myheadsnappedupjustintimetoseethewallscrumbling.CHAPTERNINETEEN
InarrowlydodgedafallingboulderasIdovethroughthedoor.Thewallsundulated.Notjustcollapsing,Irealized—moving
Ialmostlaughed.Ofcourse.Inlegend,Alarus’srealmwasever-evolving.Thepathtomoralitywasforeverchanging,andthusthepathtotheafterlifewas,too.Ifthistrialwasmeanttorepresenttheunderworld,thechangingmazewasjustonemorethingtoconquer.
Iran.Withthestonecrumblingandfloorshifting,Ididn’tknowhowlongIhadbeforemypaththroughwouldbecutoffcompletely.Themistwasthickerinhere.Thatstrangesmellwasstrongernow,too—thatsweetscent.
Imadedecisionsbasedonnothingbutgutinstinct—left,right,right,left,right,left.IskiddedtoastopasIroundedacornertoseeanotherdoor,thisonebearinganengravingwithAlarus’seyeswideopenandafistfulofflowersinhishand.Beautiful—thoughIhadnotimetoappreciateit,becausestandingbeforeitwasKiretta,theShadowborn.
Neitherofushesitated.
Wehiteachotheratthesametime—mybodyslammingagainsthersashermagicencircledus.Ihadn’tgottenthefullforceofitduringthelasttrial.Green-tintedsmokeenvelopedme.Painburstthroughthebackofmyhead,hermagiccrackingopenmymind.
Ipushedhertothegroundassheclawedatme.Squeezedmyeyesshut.
Don’tlookather.Don’tlistentoher.
Openyoureyes,asing-songvoicewhisperedwithinmythoughts.Lookatme,prettygirl.Lookatme.
No.IfKirettawasasgoodofacasterasVincentwarned,shewouldbeabletocharmmethisclose.TheShadowborn’sgiftformindmagicwasjustasdangerousasanyweapon.
Ittookallmyfocustoholdherdownwhileresistinghercall.
Shadowbornmagicwasanopenpassage—theycontrolledthedoor,butthehallwaywentbothways.Ipushedthroughherdistractions,turnedmymentalgazetotheotherendofthecorridorthatconnectedus.
Pain.Hunger.Shewasinjured.Weak.Reckless.AndIsawexactlyhowsloppythatdesperationmadeher.Shewasastrongermagicuser,butrightnow,Iwasthebetterfighter—andIcouldseealltooclearlyhowshehadunderestimatedme.
Iletherthinkthatshewon.Slackenedmymentalwalls.Letmyheadrollback.Letmyeyesopen.Herstare,hypnoticandmesmerizing,wassoclosethateventhatsplitsecondwasalmosttoomuch.Asatisfiedsmilebegantospreadoverherlips.
AndthenIdrovemydaggerintoherthroat.
Instantly,thepoisondiditswork.AfleetingstabofheragonyrushedthroughmymindbeforeIpulledawayfromher,severingourmentalconnection.Sheclutchedherthroatontheground,whichheavedandbillowedwiththeshiftinghalls.Shewasstillfightingforbreath,fightingforherfeet,whenIdraggedherontothestoneslab.Ididn’tgivehertheopportunitytopullherselfupbeforeIdovethroughthedoor.
Thescenthitmeinawall,intoxicatinglysweet.
Iwasnowinafieldofpoppies.Densewhitefoghunginagentlecurtainovertheflowers,anexpanseofbleedingred.Thethunderousgrindofstoneechoedbehindme,buthere,itwaseerilystill.Lightrippledindelicatedapplesovertheflowerfields.
Poppiesweretheflowersofthedead.Ifthehallwaysbehindmehadbeenthepathdown,thenthiswasthethresholdoftheunderworld.Fourarchedsilverdoorsstoodbeforeme,eachrevealingpathsthatsoonfadedintosilverfog.Theclashofsteelagainststeelrangoutahead,asdidgratingrumblesthattoldmeIwasn’tdonedodgingfallingstone.
Ihadtobenearthebackofthegroup.Whichmeant,asmuchasitpainedme,runningtowardsthesoundsoffightingwasprobablymybestchoice.Ipushedthroughthemiddlehallway.Halfwaythrough,Ipassedabloodybody,whichmadebehesitateinconfusion.
Ataglance,Iassumeditwasacontestant.Butthebloodwasvery,veryred,andthecorpseworenotbattleleathersbutplainonce-whiterobes,nowintatters.Theredsmearonthewallimpliedthathehadbeenflungagainstitandlefttoslowlydieontheground.
Human.Thatwasahumanbody.
Ididn’tunderstand.Whyweretherehumanshere?
Astrangesoundechoedinfromdownthehall.Asoundlike—likeacry.AtfirstIthoughtImusthaveimaginedit,becauseitdidn’tmakeanysense.Maybeitwasawarpednoisefromthecrowdoranothercontestant,or—
Anotherquakeofthegroundjerkedmefrommytrance,areminderthatIdidn’thavetimetowaste.Isprinteddowntherestofthehallway,untilIreachedanotherarchleadingtoanotherfieldofpoppies—fullernow,aseaofred.
Thecryechoedoncemore.
Notimagined.Veryreal.
Adoorstoodopenontheothersideofthefield.Isteppedcloser.Anotherlifeless—distinctlyhuman—bodylayonastoneslab.Andbesideher,cladinthesamewhiterobes,wasachild.
Mymindstoppedworking.Froze.Stuckonthatlittlegirl,whokneeledbesidethemutilatedbody.
Thiswaswhymyblooddidn’tseemtobeadrawfortheothercontestants,eventhosethatwerehungry.Becausethereweremanyhumanshere.
Thewhiterobes.Thewhitecastontheirfaces.Thehumanswerenotaccidents.Theyweren’tevenprey.Theywere…decorations.Playingthepartofthesoulsthatoccupiedtheunderworld.
Agift.Adistraction.Orsimplyadramaticflair.
Thelittlegirlwept,tearsstreakingchalkywhiteoverhercheeks.Shelookedupatmeandhereyeswentwide—wateryblue,peeringbetweenoilytendrilsofblackhair.
Wheredidthesecomefrom?TherewerenohumanchildrenintheinnercityofSivrinaj.Didshecomefromthehumandistricts?
Whywasachildhere?
Behindme,thesoundofgrindingstonedrewcloser.Ineededtogo.Ineededtogorightnow.
Itookseveralstepstowardsthedoor.
Leaveher,Vincent’svoicecommanded.
AndwiththatcametheechoofRaihn’s,fromthefirstnightoftheKejari:They’redead,littlehuman.Andifyougoafterthem,soareyou.
True.Andtrue.
Andyet,Ifoundmyselfturningback,crouchingbeforethechild.Shescrambledawayfromme,terrified.
“Comewithme,”Isaid.“Iwon’thurtyou.”
Shedidn’tmove,saveforterrifiedshaking.Shewasstuck,Irealized—shehadbeenpressedtothewallwhenthestoneshiftedlast,leavingheranklewedgedbetweentwoslabsofblackmarble.
Howdidoneinteractwithachildthisyoung?Whatwasshe,four,eight?I’dneverevenseenahumanchildupcloselikethis.
“Weneedtogonow,”Ipressed.
Notime.Thefloorbegantoquiver.Igrabbedthegirl’stinybodyastightlyasIcouldandpulled.
Sheletoutacryofpain.Resistance,thenrelease,asIwrenchedherlegfree.Ituckedheragainstmewithasilentapology,andthenIwonderedexactlyhowinsaneIwasasIran
Amistake.Amistakeonsomanylevels,Oraya.Youcan’tfightlikethis.Can’tevadelikethis.You’reslower.Yousmelltwiceashuman.Youloseaswordarm.Leaveher.She’sdeadanyway.
Iboltedthroughthreemoredoors,alreadyopen,corpsesofhumansorcontestantsmangledovertheirslabs.Ipassedseveralmorehumanscoweringagainstthewalls,donnedinwhite.Icouldn’tbringmyselftolookatthem.
Thepoppiesgrewdenser,eachstepsluggishthroughthefoliage.Thescentwasoverwhelming.Carvingsplasteredthewallsnow,hugeeyesthatspannedfromfloortoceiling,sunsandstarsspiralingintheirdepths—thesymbolofAlarus,becausedeathalwayswatched.
Anotherdoorstoodahead,thisoneclosed.Thelighthadgrownbrightandfeverish,dancingoverusatthesamepaceasmyquickeningheartbeat.Thegirlgrabbedfistfulsofmyhairassheclungtome,trembling.Sheleanedforward,herheadblockingonecriticalsliverofmyperipheralvision.
TheBloodbornmanlungedformebeforeIhadthechancetomove.
Idroppedthechild,cringingasItriedtopushheroutofthewayintimeformetowhirltomeettheattack.Heknockedmetotheground,teethbared.Hegotthefirstshotin,abone-steelrapierrighttomyalready-injuredthigh,whichleftmejerkinginpain.IleaptbacktomyfeetwitheverythingIhad,throwingmyselfagainsthimtoregaincontrol—butIonlymadeitafewinchesintomyattemptedblowbeforehegrabbedmywristandsankhisteethintoit.
Irippeditaway,myownbloodspatteringovermyface.Tooslow.Thehesitationcostme.Mybackcrackedagainststoneasmyopponentcaughtmeandpushedmetothewall.Hewassmallforavampire,onlyafewinchestallerthanme,andIlookedrightintohisstareasheencroached—red-rimmedpupilsdilated,glisteningwithhungerandglee.
Timestopped.Itriedtogripmybladewithmyinjuredhand.Couldn’tmovefastenough—
TheBloodbornlurchedbackwards.
Isuckedinasuddengulpofair.Raihnyankedmyattackeroffme,nearlysplittinghimintwowithadevastatingfollow-upstrikefromhisNightsteelsword.Inreturn,theBloodbornleaptonRaihnlikeadyinganimalintheirfinalthroes.Woundsalonghisarmsshivered,theredmistofbloodmagicsurroundingthem.Raihnwashurt.TheBloodbornwouldbeabletomanipulatehisblood,too.
Raihngotintwomorehits,buttheBloodbornretaliatedwithenoughforcetosendhimcareeningagainstthestone.Still,Raihngrippedhisopponent’sarmstight,notlettinghimpullaway—andleavinghisbackwideopen,exposedtome
Raihn’sgazemetmineoverhisattacker’sshoulder—now
IthrustmybladehardintotheBloodborn’sback,sinkingtothehilt.Evenfrombehind,Iknewhowtopierceaheart.
Themanslumped.
RaihnletthebodyfallasIstruggledtofreemyweapon.Helookedmeupanddown.“Soyoudoknowhowtobehelpful,”hesaid,alreadyturningtothedoor.“Let’sgo.Isawflamesupahead.ProbablyMische.Ithinkwe’recloseto—wherethehellareyougoing?”
Iwasn’tlistening.Thechildhadmadeithalfwayacrossthepoppyfield.Herlegwasclearlybroken,moreobviousthanevernowasshestruggledtorunawayfromme.Igrabbedher,mutteringahurriedapology,andranbacktoRaihn,whostaredatme.
“Andwhatisthat?”HesaiditlikeI’djustpresentedhimwithafluffypinkdog.
Thegroundrumbled.Wedidn’thavetimeforthis.“Go!”Ididn’tstopmovinglongenoughtoanswer.RaihndroppedtheBloodborn’scorpseontheslab,andweflewthroughthecorridors.
Raihnhadtoberightthatwewereneartheendofthemaze.Thenexttwodoorswereopen,heldtherebythecorpsesofahumanandRishan,respectively.Telltalebloodstainsadornedthewalls—delicatespraysofred,toofinetobefromwounds.Evidenceofbloodmagic.
Weencounteredonlytwoothercontestants,andbetweenthechildandmyinjuries,IneededtorelyonRaihn’sdefensefarmorethanIliked.Atleasthecutthemdowneasily,justtwomorecorpsesleftinthehallsasweprogressed.
“Raihn,”Ihissedasweroundedanothercorner,pointingtotheleftwithmybloodyblade—toagatemarkedwithlitNightfiretorches.Thisonewasbiggerthantheothers,doubledoorsofornatemetal,oneofAlarus’seyespeeringfromeach.
Theend?Itcouldbe.Ithadtobe.
Asingleslabsatbeforeus.RaihnandIlookedateachother.Thenlookedatthechild,whoweptsoftly,barelyconscious.
He’dmoveforme.Iknewit.Me,orthechild.
Theminutehedid,myarmswung.
Mybladehitthesolidleather-cladmuscleofhisshoulder.Hisjawsnappedshut,trembling.Heglaredatme.
“What,”hehissed,betweenclenchedteeth,“thefuckwasthatfor?Iwasgoingforthat.”
Hepointedhisswordtoalifelessbodyatthefarendofthehall,thenmutteredastringofcursesandyankedmybladefromhisarmor.
Oh.
Iadjustedmyholdaroundthechildandmumbledsomethingthatsomewhatresembledanapology,andRaihntoldmetogofuckmyself.Iconsideredtellinghimhowluckyhewasthatthatbladehadnopoisonleftanddecidedheprobablywouldn’tappreciateit.
Hehoistedthecorpseoverhisshoulderandwasonhiswaybackwhenthewaveofpainhitme—acidic,allconsuming,likeIwasbeingboiledfromtheinsideout.
IhadonlyamomenttorecognizewhatwashappeningbeforeAngelikahitme.
Ibarelymanagedtostaveheroff,mysinglefreearmtremblingwiththestrengthittooktoblockher.Redsuffusedmyvision.Eachbreathburned.ThecutsoverAngelika’sarmsquiveredasthemistthickened.
Shesmiled.“ItoldyouI’dkillyouinthering.”
Thechild’sbodywentrigidwithpainasshecringedagainstme.Couldahumanchildsurvivethis?
IheardRaihn’sapproachingfootstepsrunningforus.Hehadgoneallthewaydownthehall.Secondsandhewouldbehere.Thesmartthingwouldbetowaitforhim.Icouldwithstandit—butthegirlprobablycouldn’t.
SoIleftmyselfunguardedforonecriticalmomentasIevaded.
Thestriketomysidewascrippling.
Ifell.IbarelyhadenoughawarenesstopushthechildawayfrommyfallingweightbeforeIhittheground.
Angelika’sclawedhandwasatmythroatimmediately.Squeezed.Ifoundthegates,tallandglimmeringwiththepromiseofsafetyaseverythingelseblurred.Ireachedformymagic,anditsputtereduselesslyoutofreach.AlwaysgonewhenIneededitmost.
Igropedatmyside.Onetouchtothedaggershehadembeddedtheremademeseizewithagony.Butit’samazingwhatabodycouldenduretosurvive.
IyankedthebladeoutofmyfleshandthrustitintoAngelika’s.
Shecursedandslammedmyheadagainstthefloor.
Everythingwentwhite,thenblack.
IwasonlypartiallyconsciouswhenRaihnpulledAngelikaaway.Icouldnotmovemygazefromtheceiling.Howmuchtimepassed?Seconds,minutes?Theroarofthecrowdswelledtoasuddencrescendo.Everythingspun.
Raihnleanedoverme.
“It’salmostover,Oraya.”Helookedlikehewasshoutingbutsoundedsofaraway.“Getup.Comeon.Quick.Wedon’thavetime.”
Imanagedtoturnmyhead.Angelikabarelymovedinaheapontheground.Myeyesfelltothelittlegirl,unconscious,herlegtwisted,darkhairfallingoverherface.Soincrediblyfamiliar.Likelookinginamirror.
Idraggedmyselftomyhandsandknees,pushingawayRaihn’shand.
“Lemmego,”Islurred.
“Forfuck’ssake,princess,I’mnotgoingto—”
“Lemmego!”
Icrawledtothegirl.Gatheredherinmyarms.Forcedmyselftomyfeet.Mygazesettledonthegateahead,thoughittiltedandsmeared.
Whatwasthat,tensteps?Icouldmakeittensteps.
Raihnheldmyarm,perhapsinfrustration,perhapstosteadyme.
“Whatareyoudoing?”hehissed.
Icouldn’tanswerthatevenifIwantedto.Ittookallmyenergytomakeitthosefinalsteps.
Still,Iwouldnotlethimhelpme.Still,Iwouldnotletgoofthatchild.
Icrossedthethresholdandfelltomyknees.
Thecolosseumspreadoutbeforeme,gold-gildedandmagnificent.Thousandsofspectatorspackedthestands,screamingforblood.Andyet,eveninthatcrowd,IfoundVincentrightaway—rightthereinthefront,watchingmewithabjecthorror,asifhisownhearthadbeencarvedoutandthrustintomyhands.
Itstruckme,allatonce,exactlyhowmuchVincentlovedme.
WasthathowIhadlooked,Iwondered,whenIlookedatthislittlegirl?Justlikethat?
Atthethoughtofher,suddenfearoverwhelmedme.Thesewerepredators.Allofthem.Andshewasprey.
HerbloodandminerantogetherasIturnedtoRaihn.
“Don’tletthemtakeher,”Ichokedout.
Theworldfaded.Ididn’trememberfalling,butsuddenly,Iwaslookingatthesky,myfingernailsdiggingintoRaihn’sarm,theotherhanddesperatelyclutchingthelimpchildtomychest.Nightbornsoldiersencroacheduponus.
“Don’tletthemtakeher,”Ibeggedagain.
Theedgesofmyvisiongrewdark.
AndRaihnleanedveryclosetome—closerthanIeverallowedanyone—ashemurmured,solemnasavow,“Iwon’t.”CHAPTERTWENTY
MyarmswereemptywhenIawoke.
Istaredattheceilingforseverallongseconds.Mystomachchurned.Themuralontheceiling—anightsky—streakedastheworldspun.Iliftedmyhandtomychestandfeltonlytheslowriseandfallofmyownbreath.
Nochild.
Thetrialcametomeinbitsandpieces,assembledinafracturedmosaic.Theendofitwasjustablurry,poorlyrenderedsuggestion.
Thegirl.Irememberedhowlimpshehadbeen.Howhardwe’dhitthegroundtogether.Rememberedtheguardsclosinginonme—onher.Shewasjustasmall,helplesshuman.
Myhandsliddownmybody.Yes,Ihadsomenicksandcuts,buttheworstofmyinjurieshadbeenhealed.Ihadsurvivedthesecondtrial.
AndIfeltnothing.
RaihnwasnowheretobefoundwhenIawoke,butMischewasexcitedtoseemeconscious.Alittletooexcited,actually,hergrintingedwithamanichintofconcern.Ihadbeeninroughshape,andunconsciousfordays.
“Itwasmostlythebloodmagicthatgotyou,”shetoldme.
Asahuman,Iwasespeciallysusceptibletoit.Mybloodwasweak,easytomanipulate,easytoturnagainstmymortalflesh.Ifabodywithstoodit,recoverycouldbequick,butthelinebetweensurvivalanddeath,especiallyforahuman,wasverythin.
Ithoughtofthatchild.Howtinyshewas,nestledagainstmychest.SurelytootinytosurvivewhatIbarelyhad.
Ilistened,numb,asMischetoldmeoftheendofthetrial—thatelevencontestantshaddied,leavingtwenty-nineofus.EvenIbrihim,miraculously,hadmanagedtodraghimselfthroughatthelastpossiblemoment.
IsippedthewaterMischegaveme,butmymouthwasstilltoodrytobringmyselftoasktheonlyquestionIcaredabout.IlethertalkforafullhalfhourbeforeIscrapedupthecouragetochokeout,“Thegirl?”
Shelookedconfused.“Thewhat?”
“Therewasalittlegirl.”
Shegavemeaweaksmileandapityingshakeofherhead.“Idon’tknow.”
Iwantedtopress,wantedtodemandthatwefindout,butthewordswerethickinmythroat.
WhydidIcaresomuch?Ishouldn’tcaresomuch.AndyetIcouldn’tignoreit.Couldn’tescapeit.IswalloweddownwhatIcouldofthefoodMischegaveme,buttheminutestickedbyandIgrewantsy,asifeverythingIwastryingtosuppressjustroiledandthrashedbeneathmyskin.
Eventually,Irose.Everymuscleached,butatleastIcouldmove.Igrabbedmyjacketfromthecoathook.
“Whereareyougoing?”Mischeasked,alarmed,asIthrewitovermyshoulders.
“Justneedsomeair.”
“Butyoushould—”
Ithrewopenthedoor.
“—rest,”shefinishedasIslammeditbehindme.
***
IthadbeenawhilesinceI’ddonethreeinasinglenight.Mybodyrailedagainstmeforit—andIdeservedthat,Isuppose—buteventired,thefuckersweren’tdifficulttokill.Theywerelazy,andthereweretoomanyofthem.IthadbeenweekssinceI’dwalkedthesestreets.Enoughtime,apparently,tolullthesefoolsintoafalsesenseofsecurity.
Iwasn’tsurprised.
Theywereentitled.Selfish,gluttonous,entitledpiecesofshit,whosawthepeoplewholivedhereasnothingmorethanlivestock.Ihatedthemsomuchthatwatchingthemdie—watchingthemwatchme,ahuman,killthem—didnothingtoeasemyrage.Itjustmadeitfeellikemoreofaninjustice.
Overtheyears,Ihadlearnedtostitchupthatwound,tuckitcarefullyawaywithallmyotherhumanweaknesses.Now,thebandageIsocarefullymaintainedhadbeentornoff,graspedinthelittlefingersofaninnocentdeadchild.
Ididn’tknowhowtomakeitstop.Ihadbeentaughtyoungthatbleedingwasdangerous.Andthoughmywoundshadclosed,theonedeepinmychestbledmorethanever.Itmademejustasvulnerable.
WhenIlefttheMoonPalace,IthoughtIwasgoingtomeetVincent.Iwassurethathewouldbewaitingforme.I’dseenthewayhelookedatmeinthere.Ineededtotalktohim,toaskhimaboutmymagic,askhimaboutthehumans—wherehadtheycomefrom?Howdidtheygethumansthatshouldhavebeenprotected?Whychildren?
He’dhaveanswers.
Andyet,maybethatwasexactlywhyIfoundmyselfwalkingintheoppositedirection,tothehumandistricts.
Wordswerecomplicated.Questionsweredifficult.AndthatwoundinsideofmewasbleedingsomuchthatIknewVincentwouldsmellit.ThebloodwouldseepoutbetweenmyfingersifherippeditopenwithananswerIdidn’tlike.
Thiswaseasier.Moresatisfying.Atleastitwasfuckingdoingsomething.
MythirdvictimlookedatmelikeIwasNyaxiaherselfasthelightlefthiseyes.Ipinnedhimagainstthewall,hereintheshit-stinking,piss-coatedalleywaywherehehadbeenstalkingyoungwomeninthepubacrossthestreet.Iwasn’ttheyoungwomanhewanted,butIwascertainlytheonehedeserved.
Heopenedhismouth,awaftofhisrottingbreathfloatingovermyfaceasheslackened.
Iyankedmybladefreeandlethimslumptotheground.
Animal.Fuckingrottherewiththeshitandthepissandthetrash,justlikealltheotherratcarcasses.
Hehadopenedacutonmywristwithhisfingernails.Istoppedandwatchedthebloodbubbletothesurface,andwithitcameanotherunbearablewaveofrage
Myskin,humanskin,wassodelicateandeasilytorn.Inthismoment,IhateditjustasmuchasIhatedthevampireI’djustkilled.More,even.Maybethatfragilitywasresponsibleforjustasmuchdeath.
“AndhereIwasthinkingthatyouwerevisitingwithourgreatandpowerfulNightbornKingwhenyouranawayintheearlyhours.”
Ispunaround,bladeout,toseeafamiliarwingedformstandingontherooftop.Atthesight,myheartclenched—Ididn’tlikewhentheyflewaboveme.Imaybetheserpent,butevensnakesrunforcoverwhenhawkssoaredoverhead.
Raihn,I’msure,wouldnottakekindlytomekillingvampires.Novampirewould.Theywouldkilleachotheranyday,butnoneofthemlikeditwhenahumandidit.
NotthatIwasinthemoodtogiveadamn,now.
“Goaway.”
“That’sanuncharacteristicallyboringretort.”
Itwas.Almostembarrassing.
Iignoredhimandwipedthebloodfrommyblade.
Raihn’ssmirkfalteredslightly.
“Isawyoukilltwomoreinthelasthour,”hesaid,hisvoiceatouchsofterthanIwouldhaveexpected.“You’redoingthiswhenyouwerejustontheedgeofdeath?Notawiseuseofyourtime,somemightsay.”
Thatwoundinmyheartbledandbled.Hiswordssaltedit,andIlashedoutathimlikeananimal.
“Notagooduseofmytime?”Isnarled,jabbingmyweaponathim.“FourhumanswouldbedeadifIdidn’tdothistoday.Butofcourse,youdon’tthinktheirlivesareworthanhourandahalfofmytime.”
Hissmirkdisappeared.“Thatwasn’twhatImeant.”
“Fuckyou.”
Ihopedhecouldn’tseemyface.Itprobablyrevealedtoomuch.
Becarefulwiththosecolorfulexpressionsofyours,littleserpent,Vincentwhispered.
Fuckyou,too,Ithought,then,momentslater,utteredasilentapologyinmyhead.
Behindme,IheardRaihnlandontheground—surprisinglylightlyforsomeoneofhissize.
“Getout.”Ididn’tturn.“Thesepricksdon’tneedyoudefendingtheirhonor.”
Hescoffedindisgust.“I’mdoingnosuchthing.AsfarasI’mconcerned,you’redoinganimportantpublicservice.”
Myhandstoppedmid-movement.
Ididn’tturn,didn’trevealmyface,buthechuckled.“What?”
Whatdidhemean,what?Likehedidn’tknowwhat.Likehewasn’tperfectlyfuckingawareexactlyhowanyvampire—evenoneswholookeddownupontheserats,evenoneswhodisagreedwiththeiractions—wouldtakeahumantakingituponherselftokillthem.Aninsultonprinciplealone.
Ididn’tbothersayingthistohim.Webothknew.
Instead,aquestionswelledinmythroat.ItwasexactlythekindofquestionI’dcomeheretoavoid,thekindwithanuglyanswerIdidn’twanttohear.
Iresumedcleaningmyblade.
“Thegirl?”Ichokedout.
MyvoicecameouthigherandweakerthanI’dintended.
Along,longsilencepassed.Witheachsecond,mychesttightened.
Iheardfootstepsapproach,butIdidn’tmoveuntilhishandtouchedmyshoulder.Itwitchedaway,readytosnapathim,butsomethingaboutthelookonhisface—oddlygentle—mademepause.
“Comewithme,”hesaid.CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Raihnbroughtmeacrossthecity.Ittookusnearlyahalfanhourtotravelthereonfoot—heofferedtoflyus,butIrefusedsovehementlythatheputhishandsupinanapparentpleaofmercy—andwewalkedinsilence.IstillneededtokeepmyteethgrittedagainsteverythingthatmightescapeifIopenedmymouth.
Thisendofthedistrictwasmorespreadout,patchesofdirtandevenafewgardensspacingouttheclaybuildings.Therewasnopartofthehumandistrictthatdidn’treekofpoverty,butthisarea,atleast,feltabitmorelikepeopleweretryingtobuildliveshere.Poor,yes.Run-down,ofcourse.But…fullofwarmth,insomestrangeway.
Bittersweetgrieftwingedinmychest.I’dnevernoticedbeforethatmaybesomethingexistedherethatdidnotexistintheinnercity.ThingsthatlivedandmovedandremindedmesomuchofIlana.
Itwasnight,whichmeantitwasquiethere,residentsremainingdutifullyindoors.Still,RaihnandIwerecarefultoclingtotheshadows,travelinginalleywaysratherthanthemainstreets.Hepeeredaroundthecornerbetweentwobuildings,thenspreadhiswingsandleaptuptotheflatroof.Heofferedmehishand,butIignoreditandclimbeduponmyown,earningalightscoffandashakeofthehead.
Heledmetotheedgeoftheroof,thensat,swinginghislegsoverandspiritinghiswingsaway.“Look.”
Ididn’tknowwhathewastryingtoshowme.Beforeuswerebuildingsthatlookedlikealltheotherbuildingswe’dpassed,anddesertedstreetsthatlookedjustlikealltheotherstreetswe’dwalked.
“What?”
“Sit.Getlower.”
Icroucheddown.Evenwithmylegsunderme,IwasstillshorterthanRaihnwasseated.Hepointed,andIcranedmyheadtofollowhisgesture.
“Throughthatwindow.Overthere.”
Thenextbuildingoverhadlargeglasswindowssplitintomanyreinforcedpanes.Lanternshadbeenlitwithin,drenchingtheinteriorinsoft,warmlight.Movingbodiescastshadowsacrosstheinterior—thereweremanypeopleinthatroom,atleastsixthatIcouldseethroughthewindow,mostofthemchildren.
“Rightinthemiddle,”Raihnsaidsoftly.
Alittlegirlwithdarkhair.Shesatonthefloor,alone,ignoringtheotherchildren.Herheadwasbowed,andevenifitwasn’t,shewastoofarawayformetoseeherface,anyway.
Butitwasher.Itwasher
Ashakybreathescapedmewithoutmypermission.Thewaveofsheerreliefleftmedizzy.IpressedmyhandstotheclayroofjustsoIwouldn’ttoppleovertheedge.
“How?”Ichokedout.
“Ihavemyways.”IcouldhearthesmirkinRaihn’svoice.“Verydangerous,veryclever,veryimpressiveways.”
Iwasn’tabouttovalidatehispreening,but…itwasimpressive.Icouldn’tevenfathomhowhehadmanagedtopullitoff.Justgettingthechildoutofthecolosseumalivewaspracticallyamiracle.
“Who—whoarethesepeople?Whereisthis?”
“Ahomeforchildrenwhodon’thaveanyoneelse.Tookmeawhiletofindtherightplace.Icouldn’tlocateherfamily.Ithoughtmaybetheycould.”
Iswallowedthickly.Theywouldnotfindthisgirl’sfamily.Shedidn’thaveafamilyanymore.
“That’safairytale,”Isaid.
Heletoutasour,humorlesschuckle.“Youreallyjust…don’teverletup,doyou?Youneveracceptawin?”
DidhethinkIdidn’twantittobeawin?DidhethinkIdidn’twanttobelievethatitcouldhappen?
ButbeforeIcouldspeak,headdedgently,“Maybeyou’reright.Butshe’salive.That’ssomething.”
AndIwasgratefulforthat—Itrulywas.IfItriedtotellhimso,Iwouldrevealtoomuch.Yet,Iwantedittofeelmorelikeavictory.Iwantedherlifetobeworthmorethanitwas.Instead,shewouldgrowuphere,inaplacewhereshewouldbeconstantlyhunted,alone.
Iwishedsavingherwasassimpleaskeepingherheartbeating.Mother,Iwantedthat.Butwouldsherememberthatsomeonetried?Thatsomeonethoughtherlifeshouldbeworthsomethingmore?
Withoutthinking,Irubbedtheringonmylittlefinger.
“Sheshouldneverhavebeenthere,”Imuttered.
“No,”Raihnagreed.
Thesheerhatredinhisvoicecaughtmeoffguard,unexpectedenoughtojerkmefrommythoughts.
Mygazesnappedtohim.“Whywereyoufollowingme?”
Heraisedhishands.“Easy,viper.”
“Thatisn’tananswer.”
“YouwerecomingintothedistrictsasIwasleaving.Iwascurious.Maybeevenabitconcerned,ifyouwon’ttaketoomuchoffensetomysayingthat.”Hisvoiceturnedmoreserious.“ButI’mgladIdid.I’mpleasantlysurprisedbythisturnofevents,actually.I—”Heshookhishead.“Ididn’tthinkyouhaditinyou.”
“Why?BecauseI’mVincent’sprincess?”
Hewincedbutdidn’tdisagree.
Istaredathimforalongmoment,eyesnarrowed.“Idon’tunderstand.”
“What?”
“Pleasantlysurprised.Yousaidyouwerepleasantlysurprised.”
“AndImeantit.”
“Itdoesn’tmakesense.”
“Why?BecauseI’mRishantrash?”
Ifheexpectedmetowincelikehehad,Ididn’t.Ijuststared,unblinking,unapologetic.
Hesighed.“Theonesyou’rekilling?Theydeserveit.They’llneverstopotherwise.”
“Butthey’revampires.”
“Yes.”
“Andthesearehumans.”
“Icanseethat.”
ApauseasItriedandfailedtoarticulatemydisbelief.
Hesighedagain,asifthisdiscussionwasexhaustinghim.“Isthatsoincomprehensible?”
Yes.Incomprehensible.Itjust…defiedacertainworldorderintheHouseofNight.Hell,inallofObitraes.
“Ofcourseitis,”Isaid.
Thisresponseseemedtoirritatehim.“It’sthatunbelievablethatIhaverespectforhumanlife?”hesnapped.“Iusedtofuckingbeoneofthem.”
Mymouthhadbeenhalf-openwithsomesnippyretortthatIimmediatelyforgot.Iclosedit,stunnedintosilence.
Raihn’srust-redeyescrinkledwithamusement.“It’ssatisfyingtoshockyou,princess.”
“You’reTurned.”
“Iam.”
Turnedvampireswereveryrare,especiallyinSivrinaj.Thefewthatmanagedtosurvivetheprocessusuallydidn’tadjustwelltotheirnewexistence.AndthevampiresoftheHouseofNight—notoriouslyterritorial—wereneverallthatinclinedtoturntheirfoodintotheirpeerstobeginwith.
IthadneverevenoccurredtomethatRaihncouldbeTurned.Andyet,somuchnowmadesense.Theunusualraggededgetohisappearance.Hisdecidedlyun-vampiricsenseofhumor.Andtheperformances—theconstantperformances,likehehadsomethingtoprove.Likehe’dhadtolearnhowtoweardifferentfaces.
Thatlittleamusedsmilefaded,leavingbehindsomethingrawerandmorerueful.“Centuries,anditnevergetsanylessrepulsive.Neverfuckingfades.”
Iwantedtosay,Good.
IhopedIstillfounditrepulsivewhenIbecamelikethem.ThatIneverabandonedthatpieceofmyself.Andyet,somanytimesI’dthoughtitseemedlikeasmallpricetopay,toshedmyhumanitylikethediscardedskinofasnake.
Evenifhereandnow,theideasickenedme.
Iwasquiet.Iwouldnevergivevoicetoanyofthosethoughts.
“Howlonghaveyoubeendoingthis?”Raihnasked,atlast.
“Idon’tknow,”Ilied.“Afewyears.”
Sixyears,twomonths,andfourteendays.
“AndIhavetoassumeourgreatNightbornsaviordoesn’tknow.”
Ishothimawarningglance.
Helaughedjustenoughtorevealaglimpseofpointedteeth.
“Youknow,partofthereasonwhyIwantedtoallywithyouwasbecauseofthatlook.Thatfuckingface.It’sjustso…so…”Heclampedhislipsshut,andhisfeaturestwitchedasifhewasgettingreadytomimicmeandthen—wisely—thoughtbetterofit.“Forgetit.”
Icouldhaveletitliethere.Yet,Ifoundmyselfreplying,curtly,“No.Vincentdoesn’tknow.”
WhydidIsaythat?DidIwanttoprovesomethingtohim?ProvethatIwasmorethanVincent’sobedientpet?
“Itwouldcausepoliticalproblems,”Iwenton.“It’sbetterforeveryonethisway.”
Absolutelytrue.Vincentcouldn’tcondone,eventacitly,myactivitieshere.Justlikehecouldn’tcondoneanyofficialactioninRishanterritoryonmybehalf.IwouldbefreetoactonmyownwhenIwasstrongenoughtodosowithoutbeingkilled.
IrefrainedfromaddingthatVincentwouldalsoprobablylockmeupinmyroomindefinitelyifhehadknownaboutmylittlehobbies.
“Right.”Raihnsoundedunconvinced.
Thebreezecapturedloosestrandsofbothofourhair—mineraven-black,hisdarkred.Itwaswelcomeinthisheat.Iliftedmychintoit,relishingthecoolingsweatonmycheeksasIgazedouttothehorizon—thecrumblingblandblocksofthehumandistrict,staticandangularincontrasttotherollingdunes.TheNightborncastledwarfedallofit.Fromthisspot,threedifferentworldscollided:prey,predator,andthegods.
“Itisadmirable,Oraya,”Raihnsaid,afteralongsilence.“Whatyoudidinthering.Whatyoudohere.”
Iblinkedinsurprise.Ididn’tlookathim,didn’trespond—waitedforhimtoaddacorrection,oradiminishment.Buthedidn’t.Hejustmadethestraightforwardcompliment,andletitstand.
Itfeltstrange.
“AndI’msorryformybehaviorbeforethetrial,”hewenton.“Itwas…Iwasthinkingofthingsthathadnothingtodowithyou.Iwashavingabadday.”
Thisstunnedmeevenmorethanthecompliment.EvenifIcouldpracticallyhearMischefeedinghimthewords.
Again,Iwaitedforabut,adiminishment,butitdidnotcome.Iallowedmyselftolookathim,andsilencestretchedoutbetweenus.
Finally,Isaid,“DoyouwantmetosayI’msorrynow?BecauseI’mnot.”
Helaughed.Notachuckleorascoff—alaugh,fullanddeepandshockinglyloud.Icouldn’tevenrememberthelasttimeIhadheardsomeonelaughlikethat.Myselfincluded.Notsince…notsinceIlana.
“Thatfuckingface,”hesaid,shakinghishead.“No,Iwasnotwaitingforyoutoapologize.I’dbedisappointedifyoudid.”
“Ihavenoregrets.I’dthrowyououtthatwindowagain.”
“Oh,Iknow,princess.Iknow.”
Hepushedthewaywardstrandsofhishairawayfromhisface,thesmilestillclingingtohislipsandmoonlightoutliningtheanglesofhisprofile.Thesudden,overwhelmingrealizationhitmethathewasactuallyveryhandsome.Iwasalwayssurroundedbybeautifulpeople—andlearnedlongago,thehardway,howimportantitwastonumbmyselftothat—butinthismoment,justforasplitsecond,Raihn’sbeautystruckmelikeablow,sounexpectedandstaggeringmybreathcaughtinmythroat.Hiswasn’ttherefinedeleganceofvampires,perfectcheekbonesandperfectlipsandperfect,glitteringeyes.No,itwasrougher,morelived-in.Morealive.
Suddenlyallthosefeaturesthathadseemedlikesomuch—thatcarriedthemarksofalife,unlikevampireperfectionthatsandedthemaway—weremagnificentlycaptivating.
Ilookedawayfast,shovingthisobservationaway.
“Ihaveanidea,”hesaid.“Fucktraininginthatapartment.Let’strainhere.”
Mybrowfurrowed.“Here?”
“Here.Doingthis.IalreadylearnedmoreaboutyourstyleinthelasttwohoursthanIhaveinthelasttendays,justbywatchingyouworktonight.”
Ibristledatthat,everyinstinctrebellingagainstbeingobserved.ButIbegrudginglyhadtoadmithewasright.Ifweweregoingtoworktogether,weneededtounderstandeachother.
“Thinkaboutit,”hesaid.“Wecanlearnhowtofighttogetherandactuallydosomethingfuckinguseful.And…”Thecornerofhismouthcurled.“It’llbemorefun,don’tyouthink?”
Everypartofmewantedtosayno,likeachilddesperatetoprotecthersecrethideaway.ButIhadonlybarelysurvivedtwotrials,andmyabilitytomakeitthroughthethirdhingedonworkingwithRaihn.
Andmyabilitytokillhimafterwardshingedonmyunderstandingofhim,too.
Mygazedriftedbacktothatwindow.Thelightshadmostlygoneout,saveforasinglelanternthatnowdimlyoutlinedthelittlegirl’ssleepingform,nowtuckedintobed,barelyvisible.
Thisdistricthadbeencrawlingwithvampirestonight.Onemonthawayfrommyproject,andsomucheffortundone.HowmanyhumanshaddiedinthelastmonthbecauseIwasn’there?HowmanymorecouldliveifIhadhelp?
“Alright,”Isaid.“Fine.We’lldoit.”
IalmosttookitbackjustbecauseRaihnlookedsosmuglypleasedwithhimself.
Heleanedcloser,acuriouslookglintinginhiseye.“Doyourememberwhenyouaskedmeforonehonestthing?”
Inodded.
“Onehonestthing,Oraya.WehavethreeweeksuntiltheHalfmoontrial.Arewereallygoingtoworktogether?”
Iunderstoodwhathewasreallyaskingme.WhetherIwouldcooperatewithhim.WhetherIwouldallowustoworktogether.
Whathaveyoudonetoearnmytrust?Ihadspatathim.
Trustwasstillapreciousanddangerousthing.WhateverIwasgivinghimnowwasn’tquitethat.But…
Ilookeddowntothatsleepinggirl.ThentoRaihn.Inoticedforthefirsttimethatweweresittingquiteclosetoeachother,lessthananarm’slengthapart.
Inoticedthis,andIdidnotmove.
“Yes,”Isaid.“Ithinkso.”CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
“Oraya.”
Vincentsaidmynameinasingleexhaleofrelief—notsomuchagreetingasmuchasadesperatethankyoutotheMotherthatIwashere.
Iwasn’texpectingthat.
Threesyllables,andsomuchofmyangermeltedaway,leavingavulnerableaffectionthatachedbeneathastabofguilt.
Ihadmadehimwaitonemoreday.Icouldn’tbringmyselftoseehimafterwitnessingwhathappenedtothatlittlegirl.Andstill,asIcrestedthehilltoday,Iquestionedwhetheritwasagoodidea.
IthoughtIwasready.Workinginthehumandistrictshadstilledsomethingwithinme.Itdidn’tmaketheimageofthatlittlegirl’scryingfacegoaway,butitdidmakeherpainfeellikeitwasworthsomething.
Andyet,witheverystepItooktowardsVincent’smeetingplace,Ifeltsmallerandsmaller.AllthepartsofmyselfthatI’dbeensocarefultohidefromhimweretooclosetothesurface.
SoIwasrelievedwhenhelookedatmethatway,andwhenitmadeallmyangerdeflate.Hehadbeenworriedaboutme,andhelovedme.Thatwasallthatmattered.
“Areyouhurt?”
Vincentcircledme,lookingmeupanddowneventhoughIworeleathersthatcoveredmyentirebody,thescarsofmyinjuriessealedawaybeneatharmor.
“I’mfine.”
“Youdidn’tlookfine.Youlooked…”Hisbackstraightened,paternalworryreplacedwiththerageoftheKingoftheNightborn.“What,”hehissed,“wereyouthinking?Younearlythrewthatmatchaway.Younearlyforfeitedyourlife.Forwhat?”
Thatstarewascoldenoughtofreezemyheartagain.
Forwhat?
Withthosewords,Iwasinthemazeagain,lookingatthatchild,thehorrifyingrealizationfallingoverme.Ihadlearnedovertheyearstocarefullyregulatemyemotions—angerisaseriesofphysicalresponses—butthistimeithitmehard,andfast.
“Whyweretherehumansinthattrial?”Iasked.
Ispokecalmly,butVincenthadtaughtmehowtolinewordswithsteel.Herecognizedthatnow,blinkinginsurprise.
“Thetrialsarenotundermyjurisdiction.”
“Thatisn’ttrue.”
Surpriseturnedtoindignation.“Excuseme?”
“Youdonotexecutethem,buttheyareunderyourjurisdiction.AndthehumansarecitizensoftheHouseofNight.Thereare—thereareprotections.Thereshouldhavebeenprotections.”
IwaseternallyconsciousofhowIstumbledovermywords.Inmyhead,theysoundedstrongandconvicted.Aloud,theysoundedweakandchildish.
Hisstaregrewcolder.“Protections?TheirlivesbelongtoNyaxia.Justasminedoes.Justasyoursdoes.Andifthisiswhatshewantsthemfor—”
“Children?Shewantschildrenforherentertainment?For—”
Icutmyselfoffandturnedsomyfacewasshroudedintheshadows.Useless.Itwouldhidenothingfromavampire.
Somethinginhimsoftened.Icouldhearthechangeinhisvoice—hehadmorphedfromfathertoking,andnowhewasmyfatheragain.
“Letmeintothatmindofyours,littleserpent,”hemurmured.
Hedidn’tknowwhathewasaskingfor.Hewouldn’tlikewhathesawthere,ifIdid.Thewordsthatweighedheavyonmytonguetastedliketreason—liketheymightbetraymetohimassomeonewhowastoodissimilartohim.Notvampiricenough.
“Ahumanlifeshouldnotbeworthsolittle,”Isaid.“There’sareasonwhyhumansareprotectedwithintheirdistricts.”
“Allofourlivesarecheap,Oraya.Human.Vampire.Eventhoseofthegods.”
Hesaidthissomewhatpityingly,asifhewassurprisedtohavetoexplainsomethingsoobvious.
Itwastrue.DeathwaseverywhereintheHouseofNight.Parentskilledtheirchildren.Childrenkilledtheirparents.Loverstookeachother’slivesinthenight,gonetoofarinthethroesofpassion.Eventhestoriesofourgodswerevicious,lesserdeitiesfrequentlymurderedforlittlemorethansport.TheNightbornforgedtheirpeopleandtheirbladesfromsteel,hardandcoldandunforgiving.
Thiswaslife.MaybeitwasasignthatsomethingwaswrongwithmethatIstruggledtoacceptit.Struggledtohammermyselfintothatblade.PerhapsitwasbecauseIwasneitherhumannorvampire,andbecausestandingonthatboundarymadeitsoclearhowsteepthedifferenceswere.
“Atleastthevampiresdiedforsomething,”Isaid.
“Wealldieforsomething.Vampireandhuman.”
Ididn’tacceptthatanswer.Ididn’tacceptitatall.IfIdiedintheKejari,atleastI’dbedoingsoofmyownvolition.Butthosehumans?Whatdidtheydiefor?Nothing.Entertainmentforourbloodthirstygoddessandbloodthirstypopulace.Ichosethislife,butthatchilddidn’t.
VincentwasrightthattheHouseofNightdidn’trespectanylife,butitcertainlystillvaluedsomemorethanothers.
Itriedsohardtostopthere.ButIcouldn’t.ThewordscamebeforeIcouldstopmyself.
“Thatcouldhavebeenme.Thatgirl.Itcouldhavebeenme.Doyoueverthinkaboutthat?”
Vincent’sexpressiondarkened,likestormcloudsblottingoutthepowerfulstillnessofthemoon.“Thatneverwouldhavebeenyou,Oraya.”
“I’m—”
Human.Isorarelyspokethatwordtohim.Neversaiditaloud.Likeitwassomedirtytermthatneitherofuswantedtoacknowledge.
“Youarenotlikethem,”hecutin,forcefully.“Itneverwouldhavebeenyou.”
Hewaswrong.Iknewthis,justasIknewbetterthantosayit.
Hesteppedcloser,theshadowsinhisgazegrowingdeeper,fiercer.
“Doyouwanttochangethisworld,littleserpent?Thenclimbyourcageuntilyouaresohighnoonecancatchyou.Breakitsbarsandmakethemyourweapons.Nothingissharper.IknowbecauseIdidit.”
IwasaccustomedtoseeingVincenttheking,Vincentthefather,butitwasrarethatIsawthisversionofhim:Vincenttherevolutionary.Itwaseasytoforget,sometimes,thathe’dreshapedthiskingdom.Heknewwhatitwasliketocravechange.
“Youcannotaccomplishanythinginthisworldwithoutpower,”hesaid.“Andpowerrequiressacrifice,focus,andruthlessness.”
Hisgazedriftedoffintotheshadowsbehindme,andIwonderedifhewasthinkingabouthisownrisetopowerandeverythingithadtakenfromhim.Iknewhehadsacrificed,too.Butinexchange,hehadbecomethemostpowerfulkingtheHouseofNighthadeverseen.He’dbeenabletoshapethiskingdomintoeverythinghewantedittobe.
Youcannotaccomplishanythinginthisworldwithoutpower.
Thetruth.Ingoodwaysandbad.Perhapstheonlyusefulthingmyangercoulddoformewasmotivateme.Ineededtostayfocused.
Iswallowedandloweredmychin.“Iknow.”
Power.ThewordremindedmeofallthequestionsIstilldidn’thaveanswersto.Irubbedmyfingertipstogetherastheytingledwiththememoryofmyconfusing,briefburstofmagic.
“Somethingstrangehappened,”Isaid.“BeforetheTrial.I…didsomethingIdon’tunderstand.”
Itoldhimwhathadhappenedwithmymagic—selectively,ofcourse,leavingoutthespecificsofmyargumentwithRaihn.Ididn’tneedanymoreofVincent’sdisapprovalthanIalreadyhadonthatfront.
Helistenedinsilence,facestoic.WhenIwasdone,Iwatchedforsomesignofsurprise,ofconcern,andfoundnone.
“Itdoesn’tmakesense,”Isaid.“Ihaveneverbeenabletodoanythinglikethat.Notevenwhenyouweretrainingme.”
Hewassilentforafewsecondsbeforeanswering,likehehadtothinkaboutwhattosaynext.“Wealwaysknewyouhadtalents.”
Thefaintesttugatthecornerofhismouth.Justahintofpride.
We?Maybehedid—maybe,Iwasabitskeptical—butIneverthoughtIcoulddoanythinglikethat.
“ButIneverhadbefore.”
“Magicisanunpredictableforce,andyourlifehaschangeddramaticallytheselastfewweeks.”
Istaredflatlyathim,unconvinced.
“I’mnotavampire.I’mnotoneofNyaxia’schildren.HowcouldIhavewieldedthatkindofpowerfromherarts?”
“YouofferedyourbloodtoNyaxia.Youofferedheryourlife.Thatofferingdoesnotgounrecognized.Andmanyhavebeenabletowieldpowersthattraditionalwisdomsaidtheycouldn’t.”
IthoughtofMischeandherflames—avampirewieldingthepowerofAtroxus.
“Perhapssomepartofyouknowsthatyouneedthispowernowmorethanever.Solearnit.Useit.”Heleanedcloser,eyescoldwithfervor.“Nothingmattersbutthis,Oraya.Nothing.Stepovertemporarybarriers.Onceyouwin,theworldisyours.Thatisthetimefordreaming.Butthis?Thisisthetimeforconquering.”
***
I,onceagain,barelyreturnedtotheMoonPalaceintimefordawn.BythetimeImadeitbacktoourapartment,thesunwasalreadypeekingoverthehorizon.IcameinjustasMischewasheadingbackintoherroom,butRaihnonceagainstoodatthewindow,forearmbracedagainstit,curtainsparted.
Hepeeredoverhisshoulder,givingmealittlesmirk.“Welcomeback.”
“Youaren’tgoingtoaskmewhereIwas?”
“I’velearnedit’smorefuntobesurprisedbyyou.Besides,IthinkIknow.Youreadytostarttomorrow?”
Ithoughtaboutthelasttimewe’dplayedoutthismomentandjusthowpoorlyitwent.Briefly,IwonderedwhetherIwasinsane.
ButtherewasaHalfmoontrialtowin.
Nowisthetimeforconquering,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.
“Yes,”Isaid.“I’llbeready.”
Istartedtogotomyroom,andthensuccumbedtomycuriosityandturnedback.
“Whydoyoudothat?”Iasked.
“Hm?”
“Itmusthurt.”
“Nottoobadyet.”
“But…why?Whydoyoudoit?”
Hewassilentforalongmoment,thensmiledatme.
“Getsomerest,”hesaid.“Wehavealotofworktodo.”
Itstruckmeascompletelyunfairthathegottoseemysecretbutrefusedtoexplainhisownstupidself-destructivehabits.Idecidedthatrefrainingfrompointingoutthishypocrisywasmyfirststeptobeingadecentally.
“Well,don’tburnyourselfsobadlythatyou’regoingtobeuselesstomorrow,”IsaidasIturnedaway.“Won’tdomuchtoconvincemethisisagoodidea.”
“Yousaythatlikeyouaren’tdesperate.”
Ishookmyhead,rolledmyeyes,andwentbacktomyroom.
IdidnotmissMischepeeringaroundthecornerofherdoor,notevenbotheringtohidehereavesdroppingnorhergrin.INTERLUDE
Thelittlegirlwasnolongeralittlegirl.Nowshewasayoungwoman.Atsixteenyearsold,shenowthoughtsheunderstoodherplaceinheruniqueworld.Butsomethingstrangehappenedinthosehazyyearsbetweenchildhoodandadulthood.Thethingsshedesiredchanged.Thethingsshenoticedchanged.
Vampiresarebeautifulpeople.
Thisisalmostuniversallytrue.Theirfleshissmoothandsoft,theirfeaturesbrightandstriking,theirvoicessweetandmelodic.Theyareoftenthekindofbeautifulthatleavesamarkonone’ssoul—thekindthatvisitsyouagainasyoulieawakeinbedatnight,thinkingabouttheshapeofthoselips.
Theyoungwomanhadlearnedtonumbherselftothis.Shehadbeentaughtrelentlesslytoviewthebeingsthatsurroundedherasdeadlymonsters.Itwasonlyasshegrewolderthatshebegantoviewthemasdangerousnotforallthewaystheyweremonstrous,butforallthewaystheywerenot.
Letusbeclear:shewasasmartgirl.Sheknewhowtosurvive.
Butalllivingcreaturesdesire.Isthatweakness?
Onenight,theyoungwomanmetayoungvampireman.Shedidnotofteninteractwithmembersofherfather’scourt.Butthisboy,too,seemedlikeanoutsider.Hewasyoung,onlyafewyearsolderthanher.Hewasthemoststunningcreatureshehadeverseen—hisfacetheflawlesscombinationofhardanglesandgentlecurves,renderedinshadesofwarmththathintedatwhathehadoncebeen.
Yes,hehadbeenTurned.
Hewasalonelyyoungman.Shewasalonelyyoungwoman.Isitanythingbutinevitablethatsomethingshouldformbetweenthem?
Perhapshehimselfdidnotunderstandtheweaponoftheskinhewore.
Perhapshewasattractedtoherbecausesheremindedhimofwhatheoncewas.
Perhapsheeventhoughthelovedher.
Theyoungwomanhadneverthoughtmuchoflove.Shehadnotbeenfedtalesofstorybookprincesses;shedidnotdreamoftruelove’skisssavingherfromhertreacherouslife.Butthememoryofthisboy’smouthstillvisitedheratnight.Ifitwaslovetowantsomeone,perhapsthiswasit.
Shewasso,soyoung.Hardinsomeways.Softlynaiveinothers.Shedidnottrulyunderstand,yet,thatvampiresshoneasthesilverteethoftrapsshone.Theirbeautywasabeckoninghand,promisingsweetcaresses.
Thelittleserpentwassoverylonely.Sheslitheredrightintothoselovely,elegantfingers.Shedidnotevenseetheclaws.CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Ithoughtthatperhapsifwewerevery,verylucky,RaihnandIcouldmanagenottokilleachother,butIhadn’texpectedthatwewouldworkwelltogether.
Thosefirstfewnightsinthedistrictswerefarfromperfect.Havingamutualgoalthatweactuallycaredabouthelped,butwestillfoundourselvestrippingovereachother.Raihn’swallofabodymanagedtogetinmywaywheneverIneededtomovefast.Hisstrikesalwaystookourtargetoutofmylineofattackatjustthewrongmoment.Inonememorablypainfulinstance,hiswinghitmesohardthatitflungmeintoawalllikeaswattedfly.
Buttherewasnoshortageoftargets.Thevampiresoftheinnercityhadhappilyturnedthedistrictintotheirhuntinggroundinmyabsence.Sowecontinued,breakingdownthebarrierbetweenusbitbybit.
Fivenightsin,andIrealizedwe’dgoneanentiretripwithouteitherofusaccidentally—orintentionally—hittingtheother.
Sixnights,andIrealizedwehadn’tevensteppedoneachother’sfeetallday.
Sevennights,andweactuallymanagedtocomplementeachother,dismantlingoneofourtargetswithseamlessefficiency.We’dstoppedandstaredateachotherafterwards,wide-eyed,likewehadbothwitnessedamiracleanddidn’tquitewanttojeopardizeitbyacknowledgingitaloud.Ofcourse,afterthat,we’dgottenineachother’swayfortherestofthenight,butI’dtakewhatIcouldget.
Ontheeighthnight,Ifellbackandsimplywatchedhimwork.Bythen,I’dstartedtogainaninnateunderstandingofhowhemoved,andobservinghimwiththatinmindcrystalizedallofmyobservationsintoconclusions.
WhenIfirstmetRaihn,I’dthoughtthathereliedonhissizeandstrength.Ihadbeenvery,verywrong.Allofthatwasadistraction.Heusedmagicconstantly,hiddenineachmovementandblow,obscuredbyshowysavagery.Ifsomeonewasn’twatchingclosely,theywouldthinkhejustwentathisopponentwithagiantNightsteelswordandwonbysheerbruteforcealone—andtheywouldbeunderestimatinghim.
Itwasmuchmorethanthat.Thosestrikesweredevastatingbecausehewasusinghissize,hisspeed,andhismagicwitheachone.Therewasnothingcrudeaboutit—itwasstrategic.Heknewwhentohit,where,andhowhard.Calculated.
ThisdawnedonmeasIwatchedhimyankhisswordfromthechestofalimpvampirecorpse.Heglancedoverhisshoulderatme,browquirked.
“What?Likewhatyousee?”
“Doyoudothatonpurpose?”
“This?”Hegesturedtothebody,straightened,andwipedhisblade.Theglowingshadowsalongitslengthshudderedastheclothranoverit.“Yes,I’dsayso.”
“Theperformance.Yourfightingstyleisaperformance.You’remakingitlooksimplerthanitis.”
Hepausedforamoment—maybeinsurprise—beforeturningaround.
“Youhavebeenwatchingclosely.I’mflattered.”
“Whydoyouhideyouruseofmagic?”
Hesheathedhisswordanddeclinedtoanswer.“What’snext?Thesouthernend?”
“Doyouwantpeopletothinkyou’reabrute?”
Hestoppedmid-step,eyebrowtwitchinginanexpressionthatInowhadcometoknowmeant,Orayasaidsomethingamusing,probablyunintentionally.“Abrute?”
Ididn’tknowwhatwasfunnyaboutmywordchoice.“Yes.Evenwhenyouuseditinthefeasthallthattime,itwasallpower,nofinesse.”
“YouthinkIhavefinesse?That’sflattering.So,southernend?”
“Ithinkyoudeliberatelytrytoseemlikeyoudon’t.”
“Southernenditis.”Hestartedwalking.“PerhapsIhidemymagicforthesamereasonyouhideyours.”
Ihadtotakethreestepstokeepupwithtwoofhis.“Youweren’tentitledtoknowaboutmymagic.Andyouaren’tentitledtoknowwhyIhidit.”
“Oh,Iknowwhyyouhidit.”
Ihadtofighttokeepthesurprisefrommyface.
Aslowsmilespreadoverhislips.“Youhiditbecauseyoudidn’tknowyoucoulddoit.Youthrewmeoutofawindowcompletelybyaccident.”
Thistime—Motherdamnmyface—theblinkofshockhappenedbeforeIcouldstopit.
“That’snot—”
“Look,youaremanythings,princess.Butagoodactressisnotoneofthem.Nowlet’sgo.We’relosingmoonlight.”
Goddessfuckingdamnhim,thereweresomanythingsIwantedtosay—chiefofwhich,Youfuckingknewandyoustillgavemethatmuchshit?—butIshutmymouth,drewmyblades,andwentafterhim.
Ididn’tknowhowIfeltaboutthat—thefactthathehadbeenobservingmejustascloselyasIobservedhim.
***
Ididn’tlikebeingobserved—andevenlesslikedbeingunderstood—butevenIhadtoadmitthatithadundeniablebenefits.Soon,RaihnandIworkedtogetherasifwehadknowneachotherforyears.
Wehadlearnedeachother’sfightingstylesandlearnedwheretoleaveopeningstoaccommodateeachother.Ittooknonstopwork,fromthemomentthesunsettothemomentthehorizonbledpinkwithimpendingsunrise.Ittookmanybruises,snappedinsults,andachingmuscles.Andwestillhadalong,longwaytogo.
ButRaihn,Ibegrudginglyhadtoadmit,hadbeenrightthenighthehadfirstapproachedmetoally:wemadeagoodteam.
Afterwereturnedfromthedistricts,IwouldspendtimewithMischeeachday,too,practicingmagicuse.Thatwent…lesswell.AtleastRaihnandImademeasurableprogresseveryday,evenonourworstoutings.Mymagic,though,wasavolatile,unpredictablebeast.Sometimes,withMische’stutelage,ImanagedtocoaxlittlewispsofshadoworNightfiretomyfingertips.Othernights,evenaskingforsparkswastoomuch.AndnotoncedidIcomeevenclosetosummoningthekindofpowerI’dusedtothrowRaihnoutthewindow.
Iwasgratefulthatwedidthisworkinmybedchamber,whereRaihncouldn’tsee.Ineverwouldhavegottenoverthehumiliation.
“You’realreadydefeatedbeforeyouevenstart,”Mischesaid,afteronelongnightinwhichIfailedtosummonmymagicatall,evenweakly.“Itknowswhenyouhaveabadattitude.”
“Idon’thaveabadattitude,”Igrumbled.
“You’rescaredofitandit’sscaredofyou,”shechirped.“Youjusthaveto,youknow…seizeit!Letyourheartopen!”Sheflungoutherarmswide,beaming,asifthiswasatriumphantandcompletelyreasonableinstruction.
Igaveheradeadpanstare,sighed,andthenproceededtofailfifteenmoretimesuntilIgaveupinexhaustedrage.
Thetruthwas,despitemygrumbling,IadmiredMische.Itwasn’therfaultthatmymagicwastootemperamentaltobeuseful.Shewasapatientanddedicatedteacher,andhergraspofmagicwasincredible.Shemanipulatedflameandlightasiftheywereanextensionofherbody,withcarefreeeffortlessness.Itwasmind-boggling.
I’dthoughtImightbeabletolearnfromMischebecauseshe,too,drewfrommagicthattraditionallyfellbeyondherdomain.ButallIlearnedwasthatshewasapparentlysomekindofanomalyofnature,becauseshedidn’tseemtohavetotryatall.
Onetime,whenmycuriositygotthebetterofme,Iaskedher,“Howdidyouevenstartdoingthis?Thefire?”
“It’sjust…inme.”
“Right.But…how?Howdidyouknowthat?Howdidyoufindit?”
Shelookedblanklyatme,browfurrowed,asifI’djustaskedhertodescribehowshebeganbreathing.“It’sjustthere.Andyoursis,too.”
“Idon’tthinkso.”
“Oh,itis!”sheinsisted.
Itwasnot.
Vincentwasn’tmuchhelp,either.HisadvicewastheoppositeofMische’s—doledoutinscantinstructionaboutmusclecontrolandformand,aboveall,focusfocusfocus.Isawhimonlyahandfuloftimesoverthoseweeks,andlessastimewenton.Sometimes,Iwastoobusytogotoourmeetingspot.Othertimes,Iwouldwaitforhimforanhourandhewouldneverappear.Witheachvisit,hewasmoredistractedanddistant,andtheknotinmystomachgrewtighter.
Iwasn’tstupid.Iknewsomethingwashappening,somethingbadthathedidn’twanttorevealtome.WheneverIgentlyinquired,hetoldmeIneededtofocusontheKejariinatonethatleftnoroomfornegotiationandthatIknewbetterthantochallenge.
SoIdidashesaid.Ifocused,andItrained.
Inthesecondweekofpreparation,RaihnandIforwentournightlytriptothedistrictstotrainwithMischeintheapartmentinstead.DevelopingarhythmwithRaihnhadbeenthehardpart.Butonceweforgedthefoundationofourpartnership,itwaseasytofitMischein.Shewasfastandflexible,respondingintuitivelytowordlesscues.Afteronlyahandfulofclumsystarts,thethreeofusfellintoabalancedteam.
Thatnight,halfwaythroughthesession,Mischestoppedshort.Shebackedagainstthewallandcroucheddownwithherhandspressedtogether,eyesround.
Ifalteredmid-movement.“What’swrong?”Iasked,alarmed.“DidIhurtyou?”
“No,no.”Sheshookherhead,agrinspreadingacrosshermouth.“It’sjust…gods,lookatyoutwo!It’samazing!”
“There’snobondinglikebondingovermurder,”Raihnsaiddryly.
“I’mjustsoproud,”shesighed—andIwasstilltryingtofigureoutwhethershewasjokingornotasherolledhiseyesandbeckonedtoher.“You’rejusttryingtogetanextrabreak.Let’sgo,Mische.”
Together,werefinedtheteamworkwehaddiscovered,nightafternightafternight.Everymorning,Icollapsedintobedexhausted.Everynight,Iwokeupsoreandreadytodoitalloveragain.
Onthesixteenthnight,inthebriefsecondsbeforesleeptookme,Ithought,Thismightactuallywork.
Itmightactuallywork.
Andmaybe—maybe—Ievenlikedit.CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
IthadbeenseveraldayssinceRaihnandIhadgonetothehumandistricts,sowhenMischeholedherselfupinherroomworkingonsomenewspell,wetooktheopportunitytoreturn.Iexpectedthatthedistrictswouldbefullofvampirestreatingitasahuntingground,givenourabsence.Butinstead,RaihnandIdisposedofonlytwoverydrunkvampiresattemptingtopickoffacoupleofchildrenandthenfoundourselvesroamingaimlesslyaroundtheemptystreets.
“Hm,”Raihnsaid,afteranhouroffruitlesswandering.“Maybewe’vebuiltmoreofareputationforourselvesthanweexpected.”
“Evenmoreterrifyingthanwethought,”Isaid.“We’redoingourjobstoowell.”
Mycheekstightened.IwassosatisfiedthatittookmeanembarrassinglylongtimetonoticeRaihnstaringatme.
Mysmiledisappeared,andhelaughed.“Theresheis.”
“What?”Isnapped.
“Youjustlookedsopleasedwithyourself.”
Ishrugged.
Fine.Iwaspleasedwithmyself.
“Wecouldgotothewesternquarter,”Isuggested.
“Mmm.”Heslidhishandsintohiscoatpocketsandlookedaround,asifwithsuddenrealizationofwherewewere.
“Isthatagreement?”
“Ihaveabetteridea.”
Hesetoffdownasidestreet,leavingmeinthemiddleoftheroad.
“Whereareyougoing?”Icalledafterhim.
Heglancedoverhisshoulder,eyescrinkled.“I’mgettingadrink.Youcoming?”
***
“Youmeantotellmethatyou—ahuman—cometothisdistrictalmosteverynight,stabwhateverpoorvampirebastardsyoucomeacross,becomemysterioussaviortotheinnocenthumancivilians,andyet,despitespendingalmosthalfyourfuckinglifehere,you’veneverinteractedwiththesepeople?Nevergonetoapub?Neversaidaquickhellotooneofyourrescue-ees?Nothing?”
Hesaiditlikeitwasridiculous,andthatoffendedme.
“Iwasn’thereforthat.”Igloweredathim.TheeffectoftheglarewassomewhatdiminishedbythefactthathewassomuchtallerthanmeandwalkingsofastthatIhadtoawkwardlyhalf-runtokeepupwithhim.“We’renothereforthat.”
“Oh,hush,princess.We’vebeenworkingsohardthere’snoonelefttokill.”
“ThenweshouldgobacktotheMoonPalace.”
“Idon’twanttogobacktotheMoonPalace.Iwantthemostabsolutelyfuckingdisgustingbeerintown.Iwantfoamy,sour,pissbeer.Andtheplacetogetitislessthanablockaway.Ahha!”Hisfacelitup,andhejabbedhisfingeracrossthestreetasweroundedacorner,pointingtoarickety,half-rottedwoodensignthatseemedtohaveonceread“Sandra’s,”butnowlookedmorelike“Sadr’s.”
“Thisplace,”hesaid,stridingtowardsit,“hasbeenhereforalmostacentury,and—”
“Wait.”
Igrabbedhisarmjustashewasabouttoopenthedoor.ThemovementwasmuchrougherthanI’dintended,aweakpuffofshadowunfurlingfrommyfingertips,mynailsdiggingintotheleatherofhiscoat.
Hestopped,browfurrowed,andlookeddownatmywhite-knuckledhand.Thenatmyface.Hisexpressionchanged…softened.
“What’swrong,Oraya?”
“I—”
Ididn’tevenknowhowtoanswerthatquestion.Iletgoofhim,clampingmyhandstogetherinfrontofmesohewouldn’tseethattheytrembled.
Ileveledmyvoice.“Thisisabuildingfullofhumans.”
“Yes.And?”
Andyouaremadetokillthem.
Andifyoulosecontrol,Idon’tknowifIcouldstopyoualone.
“I’mnotputtingthematrisksoyoucandrinksomegarbagebeer,”Isaidcoldly.
Heletoutashortlaugh.“Iwantbeer,notblood.Besides,whywouldIgoonahuntingrampageafterspendingthelastweekandahalfwithyoukillingeveryonewhodidjustthat?”
Sofuckingdismissive.“Itisn’tthatsimple.”
“Whythehellnot?”
“Becauseifweputsomeonelikeyouinapackedroomofhumans,itmightnotbeamatterofyoudecidinganything,”Ispat.“Iknowwhatbloodlustlookslike,Raihn.”
AmomentarywaveofsomethingIcouldn’tdecipher—somethingthatalmost,almostresembledcompassion—flittedacrosshisface,quicklyreplacedonceagainwithamusement.
“You’reworriedaboutmyself-control?Howsweet.”HeleanedcloseenoughthatIfelthiswordsskitterovermycheek.Ididn’tknowwhyIdidn’tmove.
“Ihaveplentyofself-control,Oraya,”hemurmured.“Don’tyouworryaboutme.”
Goosebumpsroseonthebackofmyneck.
Yettheshiverthatrolledovermyfleshwasn’tthefamiliarshiveroffear.That,atleast,wasaphysicalresponseIknewhowtoregulate.This…thisstartledme.Myinstinctualdesirewasn’ttobackaway,buttopullcloser.Ifroze.Mybodydidn’tknowhowtoreacttothis,reachingforfearandfindingsomethingelseentirely—somethingmuchmoredangerous.
Alongmomentpassed—ormaybeithadjustbeenasecondortwo—andIsteppedaway,shootinghimaglare.
“Thatdoesn’tmatter.Besides,whatiftheyrecognizewhatyouare?”
“Iwon’tbeflashinganydazzlinggrins,andthey’llbenonethewiser.”
“No,”Ihissed.“It’sastupididea.”
Thewrinklebetweenhisbrowsdeepened,thendisappearedashegavemeaslysmirk.
“Oh.Isee.”
Iblinkedathim,alreadyoffendedbywhateverhewasabouttosaynext.
Thesmirkbroadenedtoagrin.“You’rescared.You’rescaredofabunchofhumans.”
“NoI’mnot.”Isaiditjusttoo-loudandtoo-quicklyenoughtoconfirmhissuspicions.
Iwasn’tscared.Scaredwasn’ttherightword.Itwasjust…wrong.Ibelongedouthere,hidden—notinthere,withthem.Maybemybloodwashuman,butI’dabandonedthatpartofmyselfalongtimeago.Raihnseemedconfidentthathecouldpassasoneofthem,buthell,Ididn’tknowifIcould.
“Whatareyousonervousabout?”hesaid.“You’rehumantoo,forfuck’ssake.”
Iscowled.“Notreally.”
Hemadeaface.“Ix’stits.Iwishyoucouldhaveseenyourexpressionjustthen.I’mgladyou’resoproudofyourheritage.”
BeforeIcouldstophim,hethrewopenthepubdooranddraggedmeinside.
***
Thepubwasinthebasement,andwobblystairsdirectlywithinthedoorledusdownintothedimthrong.Humansgatheredatmismatchedwoodentablesonmismatchedwoodenstools,leaningcloseandchattingbawdilyovergamesofcardsormugsofmead.Thewallsweremadeofstoneandclay,tinywindowsatthetoprevealingpeeksofthestreets.Lanternsalongthewallsdrenchedthewholeroominwarmorangelight.Atthepub’scenterwasasquarecounter,whereabarkeeppoureddrinksandslidfoodtowaitingpatrons.Theairwasthickwithauniquescentthatblendedbeer,sweat,andbread.
Itwasdarkandcrowdedinside.IwonderedwhetherbusinesshadpickedupconsiderablysinceRaihnandIstartedpatrollingthestreetsagain,becauseitseemedunthinkabletomethatthismanypeoplehadfeltcomfortablebeingoutafterdarkwhensuchdangersloomedwithinthoseshadows.Ormaybetheyjustnolongercared.Thesepeopledidn’tevenseemafraid.
Itwasso…sowildlydifferentthananywhereI’deverbeenbefore.Ihadspentalittletimeinvampirepubsintheinnercity,brieflyandoutofnothingmorethanstupidteenagecuriosity.Theywereplentygrimyanddepraved,buteveryonewassomuchmorerestrained,eveninthethroesofdebauchery.Vampiresbehavedasifeveryemotion,everyimpulse,tookabitlongertoreachthesurfaceoftheirskin.Buthumans?Humanslaiditbare.Theywereloudandexpressiveandunapologetic.
Thisstruckme,strangeandconfusing.MyhumannesshadbeenthereasonwhyI’dspentalifetimedimmingmyself.Forthesepeople,itwasthereasontheyburnedbrighter.
ItwassoutterlyforeignthatIwascertain—certain—thateveryonewouldstoptostareatustheminutewecrossedthethreshold.
Itdidn’thappen.
IglancedatRaihn,handmovingtothehiltofmyblade,watchingforsignsofbloodlust.Withsomanysweatyhumanspackedintothissmallaspace,thescentofbloodmustbeoverwhelming.Buthisnosedidn’tsomuchastwitch.
I’dbeenskepticalwhenhesaidhecouldpassashuman.Muchmoreseparatedvampiresandhumansthantheteethandthewings—theirentiredemeanorsweredifferent.Vampiressimplymovedlikepredators,allsilentgraceandcalculatedfinesse.AndRaihn,thoughhewasanunusualvampire,stillhadthatinspades.
Untilhejust…didn’t.
Themomentwewalkedintothepub,Raihn…changed.Thewayhestoodchanged,growingalittlemorerelaxedandlopsided.Thewayhewalkedchanged,hisstepsalittlemoremeandering.Thewayheheldhisfacechanged,predatorystillnessreplacedwithlaid-backease.Everythingaboutthewayheheldhimselfgrewalittlerougher,alittlelesspolished.
Andjustlikethat,Raihnwashuman.Averytallhuman,yes—ahumanthatnoonewouldwanttofuckwith—buthuman
Hejerkedhischintowardsthebackoftheroom,tookholdofmyarm,andledmetoanunoccupiedlittleboothinthecorner.ThenheannouncedthathewasgoingtogetustheshittiestbeertheplacehadandwasgonebeforeIcouldsayanythingelse.
Iwatchedhiminaweashecutthroughthecrowd.Everything,fromhowhegentlytouchedpeople’sshoulderstomovethemoutoftheway,tothehalf-nodofgreetinghegavethekeeper,tothelumberingswaggerofhiswalkbacktothetable—beerinhand—wasimmaculate.
Heplacedalarge,chippedglassmugfulloffoamymud-brownliquidinfrontofme,thentookhisownandslidintotheseatbesideme.Theboothwasasmallhalf-circlewithawobblytableatitscenter.Hetookuproughlythree-quartersoftheseatingspace.Heleanedagainstthewall,limbssprawled,threwhisheadback,andtookseverallonggulpsofhisdrink.
“Fuckinghorrific,”hesaidaffectionately,asheslammedthemugdownonthetable.“It’sperfect.”
“Impressive,”Isaid.
“Thankyou.I’vehadplentyofpracticedrinkingterriblealcohol.”
“Notthat.”Igesturedbroadlytohim,upanddown.“That.”
Hiseyebrowtwitched.“I’vehadalotofpracticeonmyphysique,too.Ididn’tthinkyou’dnoticed.”
Iscoffed,thenleanedcloser.“Youareaverygoodactor,iswhatImean.Youlookvery…”
“Human.”
“Yes.”
Heshruggedandtookanotherdrink.
“Makessense.”
Inarrowedmyeyesathim.“MaybeIwasrighttodistrustyouinthebeginning.Youhavesomanydifferentversionsofyourself.”
“Oh,they’reallme.”Nowitwashisturntogivemethatlook—thekindthatpickedmeapart.“Meanwhile,youlooklikesomeonehasshovedyouinapenwithabunchoflions.Doyouactuallyhaveyourhandonyourbladerightnow?”
Iyankedmyfingersawayfromthehiltatmyhipandplacedmyhandsonthetable.“No.”
“You’resafe,Oraya.Relax.”
Itcouldhavesoundeddismissive,buthisvoicewasunexpectedlytender.
Youaresafe.Icouldnotrememberthelasttimethosewordswereutteredtome.Itwasnevertrue,afterall.Andstrangelyenough,eventhoughthesepeopleweresomuchlessdangerousthanthepredatorsthatsurroundedmeeveryday,Ifeltmoreexposedherethanever.
Ilookedoutacrosstheroom.“Didyouusedtocometoplaceslikethis?Whenyouwere…”
“Human?Yes.Often.”Hisgazeslippedoutovertheroom.“Theylookedquiteabitdifferentbackthen,though.Alotoftimehaspassed.”
“Howmuchtime?”
Apause.“Acoupleofhundredyears.”
Hesaiditverycasually,butIknewthatpause.ItwasthesamekindofpauseImadewhenheaskedmehowlongIhadbeencomingtothehumandistricts.Heknewexactlyhowlongithadbeen—years,days,minutes.
“ButIstillcometoplaceslikethisregularly.Igetabitexhaustedbyvampires,sometimes.”
“Doyoumissit?Humanity?”
ItwasonlyafterthequestionleftmylipsthatIrealizedhowoddlyintimateitwas.Ithoughthewouldn’tanswer.Hewassilent,watchingthepatronslaughanddrink.
“Imissthesun,”hesaidatlast.
Andforamoment,heworethesameexpressionthathedidwhenIwouldcomebacktotheapartmentatdawntofindhimlookingoutthewindow,longafterthelightwouldhavebeeneatingathisskin.
Ididn’tknowwhyIfelttheurgetopullawayfromthatuncomfortablequestion,asifI’dproddedawound.Itookasipofmybeer.Thickbitternessfloodedmymouth.Imadeaface,andRaihnlaughed.
“Ugh.That’sdisgusting.”
“Disgustingandamazing.”
“Justdisgusting.”
“Youhavenotaste,princess.”
Despitemyself,Ichuckled.Maybehehadapoint,becauseItookanothersip.
“Mischeprobablyalsousedtobehuman,”Iremarked.
Awarmsmilecurledthecornerofhismouth.“Shemakesitobvious,doesn’tshe?”
“Ihaven’tmetanothervampirelikeher.”
“NorhaveI.”
“Wereyoutheonewho—”
ThewarmthdisappearedfromRaihn’sface.“No,”hesaid,sharplyenoughtocutofftherestofthequestionandanyfurtherfollowuponthattopic,thentookalongdrink.
IwatchedhimcloserthanIallowedmyselftoleton.
Raihnhadtoldmethathewantedtoallywithmebecausehewascuriousaboutme.AndIhatedtoadmitthis—eventomyself—butIwascuriousabouthim,too.IthadbeenalongtimesinceIfoundmyselfwantingtoknowmoreaboutsomeone,evenifitwasonlybecausetheyweresoconfusing.
Hesetdownhisdrink—alreadymostlyempty—andwesatinsilence,observingthepatrons.
EventuallyIasked,“WhydidyouentertheKejari?”
Suchanobviousquestion,andyetnoneofushadeveraskeditofeachother.ItwaslikeonceweenteredtheMoonPalace,theoutsideworldandthecircumstancesthathadbroughtusthereceasedtoexist.
“Ihavealotofpeopledependingonme,andTurnedRishanfromtheslumsdon’tgetmanyoptions.”Heshookhishead.“Nevermakedeathbedpromises,Oraya.Alwaysbitesyouintheass.”
TurnedRishanfromtheslums.IwasoftensofocusedonthesufferingofthehumanswithintheHouseofNightthatitwaseasytoforgetthatvampiressufferedhere,too.I’dthoughtthatmostwouldentertheKejariforthegloryofit,butmaybeitwasreallydesperationfuelingallofus.
“Family?”Iasked.
“Inasense.AndIexhaustedallotheravenues.JoiningthisfuckingbarbaricspectaclewasnothighuponmylistofthingsIwantedtodowithmypatheticnever-endinglife.”Hismouthtwistedintoawrysmile.“Iwouldn’tevenbehereifMischedidn’tforcemeintoit.”
Myeyebrowsleapt.
Hechuckledandtookanotherdrink.“Lookatthatface.YouthoughtIwasthe—whatwasyourword?—brutewhoTurnedMische,cartedheraroundObitraesforafewhundredyears,thendraggedthatpoor,innocentlittlesunshinespritehalfwayacrosstheworldtothebloodthirstyKejaritournament,isthatit?”
“Yes,”Isaid,withouthesitation.“Absolutely.”
“Thatfuckinggirl.”Heshookhishead.“No,thiswasallheridea.AndsheknewI’dneverletherdoitalone.”
IstruggledtoreconcilethisinformationwiththeversionofMischethatIknew.TriedtoimaginethegirlwhoputflowersallovertheapartmentandgiggleduproariouslywheneveranyonemadeasoundthatvaguelyresembledflatulencedraggingRaihntotheKejari.
Ihadwonderedmanytimesovertheselastweekswhybothofthemwerehere.Theyclearlylovedeachotherdeeply—neither,Iwascertain,wouldbewillingtohurttheother.Butthenagain,itwasn’tunheardofforclosefriendstoentertogether,iftheirinterestsaligned.Twochancesatvictorywerebetterthanone.
“Then…whyisshehere?”Iasked.
“Becauseshe’samanipulativelittlething,”hegrumbled,asiftohimself
“Manipulative?”
“Right.LikesomeoneelseIknow.Tryingtogetmedrunksoyoucanaskallkindsofinvasivequestions.”Hetookadrinkandshotmeawaryglare.Hesetdownhismug,andwitheverysecondofsilence,Igrewmoresurprised.
“Andnow,”hesaid,“you’rewaitingformetoaskyouwhyyou’redoingthis.”
“Abit,”Iadmitted.
AhumanintheKejari?Anyonewouldbecurious.
“Well,Iwon’t.Iknowalready.”
Mybrowsrose.“Oh,youdo?”
“I’lladmitthatbefore,Iwaswondering.Iwasthinking,‘Whywouldthishumanputherselfinasituationwhereshewassurroundedbypredators?Nearcertaindeath?’”Hesmirked.“Or,moreaccurately,‘WhywouldVincentputherinthissituation?’Easy,viper.”HeraisedhishandsattheglareIshothim.“Iknow.ButIwascuriousaboutalot.Like,whywereyouhereatall?You’reanadult.Vincentclearlydoesn’tkeepyouliterallylockedup.WhydidyouremainintheHouseofNight,insteadofcrossingtheBoneSeastothehumannations,whereyoucouldliveareallife?”
Areallife,hesaid,asifmylifewasn’treal.
Thetruthwas,ithadbarelyevenoccurredtomethatitwasanoptiontoleavetheHouseofNight—leaveVincent.Onlyonce,whenIwasseventeenyearsold,didIconsiderit.Ilanahadraisedtheidea.Itwasshortlyafter…after.Thosedayswereablurofgriefandpain.ButIcouldstillrememberexactlyhowshehadlookedthatday—souncharacteristicallyserious,soworried.Shehadtakenmyfaceinherroughhands,pulledmesocloseIcouldsmellthecigarsmokeonherbreath,andlookeddirectlyintomyeyes.“Youdon’thavetolivethisway,mylove,”shehadsaid.“Imadethischoice,butyoudidn’t.Youcanchooseanotherlife,inanotherworld,whereyou’dbejustaperson.”
Ihadonlystaredatherblanklybeforeturningaway.
Thethoughtwasincomprehensible.WhereelsecouldIpossiblyexistbuttheHouseofNight?
“Idon’twanttoleave,”Isaid.
“Iseethatnow,afterwatchingyouhere.Youdon’tseeyourselfashumanatall,doyou?Sowhywouldyouleavetogolivewiththem?”
Ididn’tlikethattoneatall.“Thereareproblemsthatneedtobesolvedhere.I’mnotrunningawayfromthat.Thisismyhome.Maybeit’sahomethathatesme,butit’smyhome.”
Thiskingdomwasapartofme,andI,whetheritwantedmeornot,wasapartofit.Iwasthedaughterofitsking,bloodorno.Thebonesofmyparentswereburiedinthiscountry.NomatterhowmanytimestheHouseofNightbruisedmyskinormyheart,Iwouldstay.Justasallthehumanswholivedhere—whodidnothaveachoicebuttolivehere—wouldstay.
ThiswaswhereIbelonged.Here.Notsomeforeignhumanlandhalfaworldaway.
Raihnexaminedme,athoughtfulexpressiononhisface.Itwasn’tthefirsttimeI’dseenthatlook,andeverytime,itmademeuncomfortable.Likehewaslettingafacadedropforjustthesefewrare,quietmoments,andrevealingjusthowmuchheanalyzedtheworldaroundhim,typicallyhiddenbeneathviolenceandswagger.
Ididn’tespeciallylikebeingthesubjectofthatanalysis.
“Youhaveballs,princess,”hesaid.“Iwillgiveyouthat.”Thenheleanedacrossthetable—sosmallcomparedtohisframethateventhatslightmovementputhimrightinfrontofme.
“Here’stheotherthingIhaveneverunderstoodaboutyou.Vincent.”
Idrewback,alreadydefensive,everymuscletensedatthemerementionofhisname.
“You’rejustsomehumangirl,”Raihnwenton.“AndtheKingoftheNightborn,well-knowntobeacold,ruthlessbastard,just…hasamomentofcompassionanddecidestotakeyouin?Why?”
Hisbrowfurrowed,andhiseyessearchedmyface,likehewasreallylookingforananswertothisquestion—andlikehewasalreadyconcernedonmybehalfforwhatthatanswermightbe.Iglimpsedsomethinginthatexpression,thefaintestedgeofsomethingstrangelyfamiliar,goneinseconds.
“Ofcourse,”hecontinued,“Iknowsomevampireshaveatasteforhumansex,but—”
“Vincentismyfather,”Icutin,disgusted.
“Right.Atleastifhewasfuckingyou,Icouldmakesenseofit.Butbyallaccounts,includingyours,he’snot.So…”
IfIwasn’tsooffended,IwouldfinditabitfunnythatRaihnhadtheexactsamethoughtaboutmeandVincentthatI’dhadabouthimandMische.
“Mischeisyourfamily,evenifsheisn’tyourblood.Itshouldn’tbesohardforyoutounderstandthat.”
“Iunderstandit.Ijustdidn’tthinkouroh-so-great-and-powerfuldivinekingdid.”
“Becauseyouknowhimsowell.”Iscoffed.“Ofcourseyouthinkpoorlyofhim.You’reRishan.Heunseatedyourpeoplefromthethrone.”
“I’msurethetwodozenextendedfamilymembersofhisthatheexecutedtotakethatthronefeelsomewhatstronglyabouthiscommitmenttofamilialbonds,too.”
Oh,please.Asifeveryvampirekingdidn’thavetokilltogetthatpower.Itwasn’tpleasant,butitwasreality.
“Andhowmanypeopleareyouabouttokilltofulfillthose‘responsibilities’youtalkedabout?”Ismirkedathim,gesturingtomyself.“Andyoustilltookinahumanstray,didn’tyou?”
Hefinishedthelastofhisbeer.
“Oraya,thereisnothingstrayaboutyou.Ithinkyouknowpreciselywhereyou’regoing,evenwhenyoudon’tknowyoudo.”
AndIwasabouttoaskhimwhat,exactly,thatwassupposedtomean—
—Butthenthefloorshookinanabruptlurch,andthecrowddrewinasuddengaspastheexplosionrangoutloudenoughtomaketheworldtremble.CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Ashivertorethroughmyentirebody.Thesoundwasdistant,andyetitsilencedtheroomimmediately.Thegroundshookonce,violently—oversofastthatifplatesandglasseshadn’talltoppledtothegroundinthatmoment,ImighthavequestionedifI’dimaginedit.
MaybeIhadbeenwrongaboutthesehumansbeingcarefree,becausetheyallsoberedrightaway,theirhushedfearrisingtothesurfacelikeithadneverreallyleft.
RaihnandIwerealreadyonourfeet,runningoutside.Whenwestumbledontothestreet,Istoppedshort.
“Fuck,”Ibreathed.
AplumeofshimmerysilversmokerosefromthedistantMoonPalace,floatingupthroughthenightskyandblottingoutthemoon.ThepuffsofwhitenearlyconsumedthePalace’ssilhouette,butwhenagustofwindthinnedthefog,itrevealedthatoneofthetowerswassimplymissing.Just…gone.Lightning-brightcracksradiatedupthroughthebaseofthebuilding,visibleevenfromacrossthecity.Burstsoflightclusteredaroundthecastle’sfoundation.
Mystomachdropped.
Mische.
MischewasintheMoonPalace.
IwhirledtoRaihn,whohadgonepale.Allhismasksandperformanceshadbeenabandoned,leavingonlybare,gut-wrenchingterror.
“We’llgether,”Isaid.“She’sgoingtobealright.We’llgether.”
Itouchedhimwithoutthinking,myfingersdiggingintothemuscleofhisforearm.Hehadtovisiblyfightthatfearfromthesurface.Still,hisvoiceshookalittleashesaid,“I’mflying.”
“I’mcomingwithyou.”
“You’llbealiability.”
“Youknowdamnedfuckingwellthatisn’ttrue,andyoudon’tknowwhatyou’reabouttofind,Raihn.”
Hewinced,becauseheknewIwasright.“Fine.Thenyou’reflyingwithme.”
Itdidn’tsinkinwhat,exactly,thatmeant.NotuntilRaihnsteppedcloser,drewmeintohisarms,andscoopedmeuplikeIwasnothingbeforeIhadtimetoreact.
“Holdon,”hesaid,voicelowandsoclosetomyearthatmyskinshivered.“I’mnotcomingbackforyouifyoufall.”
Mybodyseized,frozenbythesheeroverwhelmingproximityofhim.Hisformenvelopedmine,hisarmsgrippingmetighttohischest,encirclingmewithafirmhold.Iwascloseenoughtofeelhisheartbeat—slowerthanahuman’s.Closeenoughthattheheatofhimsurroundedmeatallangles.
Mypulsewentrapid,everyinstinctscreaming.
Outofthecornerofmyeye,IsawRaihnglanceatme—didhesensetheincreaseinmyheartrate?
Hisexpressionsoftened.“You’resafe,Oraya,”hemurmuredinmyear.“Justholdon.”
You’resafe,Itoldmyself.
Wedidn’thavetimeforthis.Mischedidn’thavetimeforthis.SoItightenedmyarmsaroundhisneck,fightingmorethanadecadeoftraininginordertoputmyselfcompletelyathismercy.
Andasifheknew—asifhesensedmyfear—Raihn’sthumbtracedacircleovermybackinonegentle,wordlessreassurance.
Itstartledme,thattouch.Itstartledmebecauseitcomfortedme.Ididn’tthinkitwaspossibletofindatouchcomfortingeveragain.
“Ready?”hesaid.
Inoddedagainsthisshoulderandbracedmyself.
Agreatwhooshsurroundedus.IpeeredoverRaihn’sshoulderjustintimetoseeawallofblackopenaroundus—inky,glossyfeathers,evenmoremagnificentsoclose,withasmanyvariationsofpurpleandblueandredasthenightskyitself.
Thenmystomachdropped,andthegroundfelloutbeneathus.Myhairflewback.Warmwindstungmycheeks,whippingwithsuchferocitythatIhadtoburymyfaceagainsthisshoulderagainasweascended.
WesoaredtowardstheburningPalace.Heflewfast.Onceweleveledout,Ichancedtwistingmyheadaround.Lookingdownwasamistake—thesightofthebuildingsofSivrinajnobiggerthanwoodentoyblocksmademenauseous.Butup…Mother,thenightskywasincredible.Freeing.Inanyothercircumstance,Iwouldhavewantedtoliveuphereforever.Vincentrarelyflew,whichnowseemedunthinkable.Whywouldanyonechoosenottodothis?Whywouldanyonedoanythingelse,whentheycouldbehere?
ThenIturnedahead,andwhenIsawtheMoonPalace,thatamazementwitheredtohorror.
Anentirespirehadfallen,itsstoneremnantsnowajaggedmountainofrockthatpartiallypiercedthecentraldomedroof.Blue-whitelightburnedinthewoundandglowedfromwithintheshatteredglasswindows.Fromthisheight,peoplewerenothingbutlittledotsinthedistance,butIcouldseethemswarminginactivityneartheentrances.Thecoldflamesspread,consumingnearlyhalfofitsbase,obliteratingthesurroundinggardens.ThequarterofthecitynearesttotheMoonPalacehadbeencrushed,entirebuildingsseeminglyreducedtorubble.
Thiswasanattack.Acalculatedattack.
AnditwasanattackconductedwithNightbornmagic.Thatblue-whitewasunmistakable.NightfirewasagiftoftheHouseofNightalone,neverusedbytheBloodbornorShadowborn.
Thehairsroseonthebackofmyneck.
TheRishan.Ithadtobe.Vincenthadbeensopreoccupiedlately—soobviouslyconcernedwithissueshewouldn’tsharewithme.IknewtensionsbetweenthetwoNightbornclanshadbeenonthevergeofexploding.Vincenthadheldontopowerfortwohundredyears.Thatwasalongtimeforonebloodlinetomanagetokeepit.Anditwouldn’tbethefirsttimetheRishanhadmadeaviolentattemptatrebellion.
IwassotightagainstRaihn’schestthatevenwiththeairrushingaroundme,Ifelthimshudder.
“Ourtowerisstanding.”Ihadtogetveryclosetohisearbecausethewindwassoloud,mylipsbrushingthecrestofit.IwassoshakenbywhatIhadseenthatIalmost—almost—didn’tnotice.
Hedidn’tseemcomforted.Andthetruthwas,neitherwasI.Yes,ourtowerwasstanding,butNightfireconsumedeverything.Itwouldn’tremainthatwayforlong.
Heglidedthroughthestill-brokenwindowofourapartment,tearingpastthecloththatMischehadputuptocoverthemissingpane.Immediately,ourhandswentuptoshieldourfaces.RaihnsetmedownandIstruggledtogetmyfeetunderme.Myeyesslittedagainsttheblindingwhite.
Nightfire.Everywhere
Nightfiredidn’tproduceheat,exactly,somuchasitwitheredfleshfromtheinsideout.Itwasn’thotlikeflames,butitwasn’tcold,either.Itsimplydevoured—devouredmorequickly,andmoreunforgivingly,thanfireeverdid.PeoplecaughtinNightfirewereoftenfoundinpilesofpristinebone.OneofVincent’shighest-rankinggeneralshadlosthishandtoit,andnowthebonejuttedoutfromblack-scarredflesh,polishedandgleaming.
Ithadovertakentheapartment.Whiteflamesleechedthecolorfromthefloors,thewalls,thecurtains.Thefumesmademylungssting,asifeachlayeroftissuewasshriekingadyingwail.
Thesmokewastoothickandthelighttoobright.Ittooktoolongformyeyestoadjust—toseethemovementwithinthelicksofdeath.Night-darkbodieswrithedthroughtheblaze.Theyweresmallandtwisted,perchedonfourspindlylegsbentinallthewrongdirections,allofwhichlookedasiftheyhadbeenpriedfromaseparatecorpseandstitchedtogetherintosomethingmoderatelyresemblingasinglebeast.Demons.Eventhroughthefire,IrecognizedthemimmediatelyastheproductofNightbornmagic;verydifferentthantheBloodbornbeastswesawinthefirstTrial.
ThreeofthemsurroundedMische’slimpbody.
Inthefire,everythingwasblackorwhite,savefortheviolentsplatterofblack-red,likeabucketofspilledpaint,rightatthecenteroftheroom.
Mymindemptied,saveforthehorriblecertaintythatMischewasdead.
Thedemons’facessnappedtous,theireyesround,gleamingpits.
IwasmovingbeforeIhadtimetoquestionwhetheritwasagoodidea.Iwasn’tbeingstrategic—wasn’tbeingsmart.Bythethirdstep,Ithoughtthedemonswouldbeuponme,buttheyweren’t.Theyremainedcompletelystill,staringatus.Lookingatme?OrlookingatRaihn?
IseeyouIseeyouIseeyou.
Thewordscameinasensedifferentthansound,therhythmofthemburrowinginmyveins.
Astronghandgrabbedmywristandyankedmeaway.
“Getback,”Raihncommandedinalowgrowl.
Hekeptwalkingpastme,inquick,purposefulsteps,gazefixeduponthosedemons.Inturn,thedemonsstaredbackathim,unblinking,unmoving.
“Getthefuckawayfromher,”hehissed,andliftedhishands.
Iwasseveralstridesbehindhim,butevenso,theforceofhisAsterisnearlytoppledmeover.Myarmsflewuptoshieldmyface—iftheNightfirewasintense,theflareofhismagicwasunfathomable.Itlastedonlyasplitsecond.Thedemons’deathswerepunctuatedbyahigh,chillingwailthatfellintoweepingwhimpers.Whenthelightfaded,RaihnwasatMische’sside,andtwoofthedemonsweresimplygone,thethirdamessofblackliquidandtwitchinglimbsontheoppositesideoftheroom.
IrantothemandfelltomykneesnexttoRaihn.Themaskofdeathlyrageonhisfacehaddisappeared,revealingnowsuchrawdismay.Eitheritwasatrickofthelight,orhewasonthevergeoftears.
“Mische,”hesaid.“Mische,lookatme.”
Ileanedoverher,blinkingawaytheNightfiresmoke.Herbloodsoakedthroughthekneesofmypants,eventhroughtheleather.Hereyeswerehalfopen,butunmoving.Onehandwasoutstretchedbesideher,holdingalong,goldenobject—acandlestick?MyfoothitsomethinghardandIglanceddowntoseethatcandlessurroundedher,unlitblocksofwaxrollingacrossthemarblefloor.
Andherabdomen…Mother,shewastornopen.Gutted.Vampirescouldsurvivesomuch.Butthis…howcouldanybeingsurvivethis?
AsickeningCRACKrangout.Thefloorquivered,groaned.Foraterrifyingmoment,Iwascertainwewereabouttofalltoourdeaths.Inthedistance,thescreamsgrewlouder.Icouldn’ttellanymorewheretheywerecomingfrom—inhere,oroutthere,orboth.
RaihnandI,bothbracedoverMische’sbody,exchangedanalarmedglance.Notime.Howlongdidwehavebeforethistowercollapsed?
“Comeon,Mische,”hemurmured.“Wehavetogo.”
Hegatheredherinhisarms.Sheletoutatinywhimperthatmademyheartleap—ifshewasinpain,shewasalive.
AburstoflightflaredbehindusastheNightfireswelled.Itwaseverywhere.Raihnabandonedhisgentlenessforurgencyaswelurchedbacktowardsthewindowandawayfromtheflames.
Heturnedtome.“Icantakeyouboth.”
No,hecouldn’t.HecouldbarelyextendhishandtomewithMischeinhisarms.
Isaid,“Bringherdownandcomebackforme.”
Hegrimaced.“Oraya—”
“It’snousetoanyoneifweallfall.Go.Fast,becauseIdon’tfeellikedyingtonight.”
Hehesitated,thensaid,“Fine.I’llbeback.Don’tburntodeath,”andwasgonethroughthewindow.
ItwasonlyonceIwasalonethatIrealizedwhatasupremelystupidideathiswas.Thefloormoanedandquakedprecariously.Istruggledtoseeanything.Surgesofwhiteandblueballooned,wallsfallingtotheflames.
ThirtysecondsandtheNightfirewouldovertakethisentireapartment.That,orthetowerwouldcollapse.Raihnwouldnevergetbackfastenough.
Thatis,ifheevencamebackatall.Hecouldjustleavemehere.
BANG.
Itwassoloudittranscendedsoundandbecameforce.Iwhirledaroundjustintimetoseethedoorburstfromitshinges,thelightconsumingme.
***
Icouldn’tsee.Icouldn’thear.
Iwassuspendedinnothingbutpain.
Irolledover.Pushedmyselftomyhandsandknees—oratleastIthoughtIdid.Icouldbeupsidedown.Icouldbefalling.Iwouldn’tevenknow.
Myeyeswerewideopen,gropingdesperatelyforsomething—anything—otherthanblindingwhite,andfailing.Myhandsslidacrossthefloor,searchingformyblades.Feelingblood-slickedtile,crumbledstone,brokenglass,theice-coldashofNightfiredebris…
Iwoulddiehere.
Iwasblindanddefenseless.Injured—mybodydidn’tmovethewayIexpectedittoo,butthepainfromtheNightfirewassouniversal,hittingeverynerveatonce,thatIcouldn’teventellwhatwasbroken.Everysoundwasdistantandmuffled,asifIwasunderwater.
Takestockofyoursenses,Oraya,Vincentcommandedinmyhead,theonlyclearthinginablurryworld.
Idrewinadeepbreath.Letitout.
Icouldn’tsee,couldn’thear,butIcouldfeel.Ipressedmypalmstotheground—letthevibrationsfromitrunthroughme.
Andthere,Ifoundsomething…strange.Ahot-coldsensationbubblingupinsideofme,reachingout.Allatonce,Ibecameawarenotonlyofthefloorbeneathmypalms,butthewalls,theimprintofthewindowframes.Icouldfeelmyselfhere,inthecenterofthisroom.Feeltheplacementofmyblades,oneseveralfeettomyright,theotherlingeringjustbeyondthereachofmylefthand.
AndIcouldfeel…strength.Deliriousstrength.Itsurroundedme,readytobedrawnupon.TheNightfire.Itwasenergy.Itwaspower
Mische’swords,whichnotlongagohadseemedtotallyillogical—it’sjustthere—suddenlymadesense.
IreachedforthatpowerthewayIreachedformysenses,likeitwasalreadyapartofme.
Myeyesstillsawnothingbutwhite.Andyet,Iknewtheexactmomentthatthedemonscameburstingthroughthedoor.Threeofthem—no,four,thelastonelingeringsomewhatbehind,itsbackleginjured.
Ididn’tthink.
Irose,openedmyhands,andletoutawordlessroar.
Heatandcoldflashedovermyskin.Ashriekpiercedthenumbsilenceofmyears.Awaveofeuphoriashiveredovermyflesh.Fortwoseconds,Iwasthemostpowerfulbeingintheworld.Iwasfuckinguntouchable.
AndthenIwasinagony.
Mykneeshitthegroundhard.Idoubledover,coveringmyface.
“Oraya!”
Ididn’thearRaihnuntilhewasrightnexttome,grabbingmeandpullingmeupright.Iblinkedathim,hisfaceablurryimprintinaworldofoppressivewhite.Hewaslookingpastme,totheapartment,lipspartedandbrowfurrowed.
Then,hepulledmeintohisarmsandhurledusoutthewindow.
Wefellforagut-clenchingmomentbeforehiswingssplayedout,turningourfreefallintoagracefularc.Thedarknessofthenightwasarelieftomyeyes,thoughIblinkedhard,overandoveragain,tryingtoclearmyvision—nowallacidspotsofwhiteagainstsky.
“You’realright?”Raihnsaidintomyear.
Ichokedout,“Youmissedyourchancetogetridofme.”
Ididn’tthinkhewasevencapableofjokingrightnow,withMischeinthestateshewas.Soitseemedlikesomegrimvictorywhen,wheremycheekpressedagainsthisneck,Ifelthisthroatvibratewitharaspy,humorlesslaugh.“Shame.Iconsideredit.”
Ilaughed,too,inastrangebrokensoundthatwastoohighandtooloud.
“IthoughtIwasgoingtobetoolate.”Heleanedclosetome,hisvoicelowanddrawn.“Whatdidyoujustdointhere?”
What?Iwantedtosay,butthewordsstuckinmythroat.
“TheNightfire.”Asifhehearditanyway.“Youkilledfourdemons.”
Thewaveofnauseahadnothingtodowithmotionsickness.
Ididn’tknowhowtoanswerhim,soIdidn’t.
Instead,Ilookeddown.Thewhitespotsstillspeckledmyvision.Irealized,afteramoment,thattheydidn’tfadebecausesomeofthosespotswereactuallyNightfire,spreadingthroughthestreets.
BeforeuswastheNightborncastle,forebodingredagainstthenightsky.TheGuardhadbeendeployed.Vincent’sarmywasawaveofblueandpurplefallingacrossthecity,themassofthemasingularsmearofdeathtomybrokeneyes.
Still,IfoundVincentimmediately:rightthereatthefront,hiswingsspread,theblackglowofAsterissurroundinghim.Theredoutlineofhiswingswasvisibleevenfromthesky,aswasthecrimsonshadeofhissword—theTakerofHearts.
Evenfromthisdistance,heemanateddeath.
IhadwitnessedVincent’spowermanytimesbefore.ButIhadneverseenhimlikethis.Ahorriblefeelingcoiledinmystomach.
“Yourfatherhashiswar,”Raihnremarked.“He’sbeenwaitingforthismomentforalong,longtime.Hewasmadeforthis.”
Iwantedtoargue.ButallIcouldthinkaswesoaredoverthewreckagewasthatsomethinghadchangedtonight.Somethingwouldneverbethesameagain.Icouldn’tdescribeit,couldn’tmakesenseofit,butIfeltitintheair.
Thiswasnotjustanattack.Notjustaculminationoftension.Notafinaldeathspasm.
No,thiswasthebeginningofsomethinghorrible.Abloodybirthofabloodiermonster.Onethatcoulddevourusall.CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
ItwasnearlyafulldaybeforetheNightfirewasextinguishedandthedemonsdisposedof.Whoeverhadlaunchedtheattackhadbeenverystrategicabouttheirentrypoints.TheycameinthroughthesouthernentranceoftheMoonPalace,whichwasthequietestandleastprotected.Thegreenhousehadbeeneasytobreach,andtheplantsprovidedfantastickindlingfortheNightfire.Nownothingremainedofitbutshatteredglass,allburiedbeneaththeremnantsofthetowerthathadcollapsedabove.
Fourcontestantshadbeenkilledintheattack—twowithinthelosttowerwhenitfell,onerippedapartbyademon,oneconsumedbyNightfire.IfI’dstayedinthegreenhouseinsteadofgoingwithRaihnandMische,Iwouldhavebeenamongthem.
Mischesurvived,barely,thoughshestillteeteredontheedgeofdeath.Andshewasn’talone.Severalothershadbeenburned—oneofthemsobadlythathejustlayinastateofsemi-consciousnessandmoanedinpain.HenolongerhadafaceIhoped,forhissake,thatheeitherdiedorrecoveredenoughtodothedeedhimself.
Thosewithinjuriessobadtheycouldn’tfightputinrequestsforwithdrawaltoNyaxia.Inthehushedsilenceofdawn,wegatheredinthegreatroom.Theonlysoundswerethewhisperedprayersoftheinjuredastheyslittheirhandsanddrippedtheirbloodtotheirparchmentpleas,askingthegoddessforpermissiontowithdrawtheircandidacy.RaihnandIdidthisforMische,too;shecouldn’tgetthewordsoutherself.Later,theMinistaerandhisacolytesmovedsolemnlythroughtheroom,collectingthosebloodstainedpiecesofparchment.TheyinstructedustoremainintheMoonPalace,remindedusthattheKejariwouldgoonasplanned,andtoldustoawaitfurtherinstruction.
Thatwasit.SoweallsettledbackintowhatwasleftoftheMoonPalace,andwewaited.
Atsundownthenextnight,VincentaddressedtheHouseofNight.
Hediditfromthecastlebalcony,overlookingtheinnercity.HecommandedattentionacrossallofSivrinaj.Magicpaintedhisvisagetotheskyinetherealstrokesoflight.Thefirsttwobuttonsofhisjacketwereundone,revealinghisHeirMark.Hiswingswerespread.Hiscrownpeekedthroughtendrilsofblondhairliketheplatinumspiresofastar.
Themessagewasclear:VincentwastheNightbornKing,andanyonewhochallengedhimwouldpaydearlyforit.
Hedidn’tspeaktohispeople,buttohisenemies.
“Ihaveonlyonethingtosay.TheNightbornarenotcowards.Wedonottakekindlytoactsofwar.Andmakenomistake,thisattackisanactofwar.”
Hisvoicerangthroughthesky,everywhereatonce—inescapable.
“Doyouwishtounseatme?Try.Youarenottheonlyonewhoknowshowtokill.Youhaveopenedadooryoucannotcloseagain,andyouarenotpreparedforthehorrorsthatIwillpourthroughit.Horrorsthatwillsparenothing,asyouhavesparednothing.Horrorsthatwillnotspareyourwivesorchildren.Horrorsthatwillnotspareyourfoodoryourhomes.Andhorrorsthatwillnotspareyou.”Asneercurledthecornerofhislip,revealingthelethalpointofhisteeth.“Notevenwhenyoubegfordeath.”
Heliftedhischin.Evenrenderedinghostlysilver,theMarkonhisthroatseemedtoburn,asifheanditalikehadbeensearedintothenightitself.
“Ihopeitwasworthit,Rishanrebels.”
***
JesminecametotheMoonPalacelaterthatnight.ShebroughtwithheraslewofNightbornwarriors,whoshadowedherlikedeadlyghosts.
Wehadfoundanotherroombythen—amuchsmallerchamberonthefirstfloor,atthecenteroftheMoonPalace,whichwasbotheasierforMischetoaccessandmorecentralincaseotherpartsofthestructurecollapsed.Itwasn’tnearlyasgrandasourprevioushideaway,butitwassafeandsecure.Raihnhadevenmanagedtorecoversomeofourpossessionsfromwhatremainedoftheeasterntower.HisfirstpriorityhadbeenMische’sbagofmedicalsupplies.Whenhe’ddroppedtheremnantsofmypackbeforeme,too,I’dbeencasuallygrateful.Butlater,whenIwasalone,IhadnearlyweptwhenItoreitopentofindIlana’sscarfstillintact,albeitabitsinged.
Whenshearrived,Jesminepoundedonthedoorwithtwoboomingknocks;notarequest,butademand.Raihnansweredit,andshegavehimacold,criticallookthatstartedathisfeetandslowlymoveduphisbody.
“Yes?”Raihnsaidcoldly.
“Come,”shesaid.“TheNightbornKinghassummonedyou.”
DreadsimmeredinmychestasIjoinedthematthedoor.
Hewasmadeforthis,Raihn’svoiceechoed.
Ihadn’twitnessedVincentinwartime,butI’dcertainlywitnessedwhathewaslikewhenhewasprotectingwhatwashis.
Raihndidn’tmove.
“Why?”
“Yourkingcommandsit.”
“He’snotmyking.”
Itensed.Raihndidn’tblink.Jesminewasstillandsilent—apredatorpreparingforastrike.
IknewRaihnwasworriedandangryandtired,buthewasalsobeingafuckingidiot.Iwantedtoriphimawayfromherandtellhimso.
“HislifebelongstoNyaxiaaslongasheremainsintheKejari,”Isaid.
JesmineseemedtorealizeIwasthereforthefirsttime,hercatlikevioleteyesdrinkingmeinwithaglintofpiquedcuriosity,likeI’djustsaidsomethingveryinteresting.
“TheKingiswellaware,”shesaidbreezily.“ContestantswillbereturnedtotheMoonPalacewiththeirlives.”
Contestants?
Ipeeredoverhershouldertoseethatwarriorsmovedaboutthegreatroom,someheadeddownhallwaystootherapartments,othersreturningtotheentrancewithprisonersintow.Angelikawasamongthem,herarmsgrippedbehindherbytwoNightbornguards,strongfeaturesstone-setinfury.
TheyweretakingtheRishanandBloodborncontestants.AndyetJesmine,myfather’shighest-rankinggeneral,cameherepersonallytogetRaihn.
Allthesepiecessnappedtogetherinmymindtoformagruesomepicture.IlookedatRaihnjustashisgazedartedtome,heavywiththesamerealization.
“TheRishandidn’tdothis,”RaihnsaidtoJesmine.
Shesmiled.Itwasdownrighthypnotic.Surelythatsmilehadbroughtmenandwomen,mortalsandimmortalsalike,totheirknees.
“Oh,nooneisaccusingyouofsuchacts.Butthisiswartime,understand.AndtheRishanhaveahistoryofsuchatrocities.TheNightbornKingcannottakerisks.”
“No,”Isaid,beforeIcouldstopmyself.“He’smyally.TheHalfmoontrialistwodaysaway.TellVincentthat.”
“Vincentiswellaware.”Jesmine,again,smiledsweetly.“HewillbebackinplentyoftimefortheHalfmoon.Don’tworry.Now,come.”ShebeckonedtoRaihnasifhewasadog.“Youmustunderstandtheurgency.”
Hisknuckleswhitenedwherehishandgrippedthedoorframe.
“I’mnotleavingmyfriend,”hesaid.“Ifthekingwantstodragmeout,hecancomedothathimself.”
“Wecandragyououtifthat’showyouwouldprefertogo.”
Itwasnobluff.Ifhedidn’tbackdown,IwasabouttoseehimbeatenandremovedfromthePalaceunconscious.Hewasgood,buthewasn’tgoodenoughtotakedownanentireNightbornarmybyhimself.
Myhearthadquickened—surelybothofthemcouldsenseit.Ipushedcloser,standingbesideRaihninthedoorframe.“Noonehereappreciatesthefuckingthreats,Jesmine,”Isnapped,thenturnedtohimandloweredmyvoice.“I’llgetyouout.AndI’lltakecareofMische.”
Hesearchedmyface,unconvinced.IcouldfeelJesmine’sstare,too.Irealizedthatshewaslookingatmyhand,whichrestedonRaihn’sforearm.Ididn’tevenrememberputtingitthere.
Ipulledaway.Raihnsaidthroughhisteeth,reluctantly,“Fine.”
Jesminesmirkedinsatisfactionashesteppedpastherintothehall.
“Oh,Ialmostforgot.”Shereachedintoherpocketandproducedtwofoldedpiecesofparchment.Shehandedonetohim.“TheMinistaerwantedthisdeliveredtoyourfriend.”
Skeptical,Raihntooktheletterandunfoldedit.Hisfacewentwhite.
“Whatisthis?”hechokedout.“Isthisafuckingjoke?”
Jesmine’smouthtwistedruefully.“Fromexperience,IknowtheMinistaerdoesnotmakefuckingjokes.”
Theparchmentcrinkled,quiveringwithhisrage.
“Lookather.”HethrusthisfreehandtowardsMische,listlessinthebedwithin.“Shecan’tfuckingcompete.AndtheMinistaerrejectedherwithdrawal?”
Mystomachdropped.
Thatwasadeathsentence.Wecouldn’tevenmoveMischeupthestairs,letalonedragherintothering.AndrightbeforetheHalfmoontrial,whenhalfthecontestantswouldbekilled?Shewouldn’tsurvive.
“Nyaxiarejectedherwithdrawal,”Jesminecorrected.
“FuckNyaxia.”
Severaloftheguardsdrewindisapprovinggaspsatthisstatement.
ButthishadnothingtodowithNyaxia,andweallknewit.Mische’swithdrawalhadbeenrejectedbecauseofherfriendshipwithRaihn.WithnoclearHouseassociationofherown,shemightaswellbeRishan.
Jesmine’spatiencewaswearingthin.“Ifyouhaveconcerns,youcanbringthemupwiththeMinistaer.Now,let’sgo.”
TwooftheguardstookRaihn’sarms,anditlookedlikehewasconsideringfightingbeforehefinallyconceded.Iwatchedhimgo,mouthdry.
Jesmineofferedmetheotherparchment.“Thisoneisforyou.FromVincent.”
Itookit.Itheldonlythreewordswritteninperfectscript:
Tonight.Beforedawn.
IglancedupatRaihn.Helookedbackoverhisshoulderonlyonce,andthesheerhopelessnessonhisfaceshockedme.
ForMische.ThatwasforMische.
“He’shandsome.”Jesmine’seyesfollowedmine.“Youcoulddoworse.Betteriftheyaren’tarebel,though.Justcausesallsortsoftrouble.”
That’snotwhatheis,Iwantedtosnap.Instead,Iasked,“You’veconfirmedtheRishanwereresponsible?”
“Yes.”
Iwaitedformore,andshegavealowlaugh.“Howmuchdetaildoyoureallywant,Oraya?Aren’tyoumorefamiliarthanmostwhatthey’recapableof?Iknowyoumustnotremembermuchofwhatitwaslikeintheirterritory,butyouwanttogothereoncethetrialsareover,don’tyou?Well,hereisyourchance.EasierthaneverforyoutoslaughterthebastardswithoutNyaxialookingatyousidewaysforit.”
Myjawtightened.Whydiditbothermethatsheknewthosethings,aboutmypast,mygoalsforthefuture?WhydiditbothermethatVincenthadtoldherallofthat?
“I’mserious,Oraya.”Hervoicelowered.“Becarefulwithhim.He’spretty,buthe’sstillaRishan.”
Iwantedtolaughinherface.AsifIdidn’tknowbetterthananyoneexactlyhowwaryIhadtobearoundprettyvampiremen.No,Ididn’ttrustRaihn.Ididn’tevenknowifIespeciallylikedhim—Really?avoicewhisperedinthebackofmyhead,atthisthought—butIknewhedidn’tdothis.Iknewitwithunshakablecertaintyforonereason,andonereasonalone:Mische.
Isawthedevastationonhisfacewhenwefoundher.Thatwaslove.Noonecouldfakethat.
IbitmytongueasJesminesaunteredoffandslippedVincent’sparchmentintomypocket.
***
IremainedatMische’sbedsideuntilitwastimetomeetwithVincent.Shehadn’tspokensincewedraggedheroutoftheapartment,thoughherlashesshudderedasifwithconstantdreams.Herskinwasburninghot—especiallybadnewsforvampires,whowereusuallyresistanttoinfection.Istoodoverheranddabbedatherwithacoldwashcloth,washingseepingpusfromherwounds.IpulleduphersleevesandfrownedatwhatIsawbeneaththem.ThefreshNightfireburnsclusteredaroundherwristsandhands,whichhadbeenexposedthatnight.Butthesmoothbrownskinofherarmswasdotted,too,witholdburnscars—countless,alllayeredovereachother.Somewereclearlyveryold,andothersmuchfresher,thoughnotfromtheattack.
Howcouldshehavegottenthese?
Amumbledwhimperinterruptedthethought.Mischestirred,herfingersshaking.Iloweredherarmandleanedclosertoher.Shecouldn’tevenmoveherhead,andhereyestwitched,likeshewastryingtoopenthemandfailing.
ItaffectedmemorethanIwouldhaveexpecteditto—seeingherthisway.Before,Mischehadflittedaboutlikeabutterfly,andnowsomeonehadrippedherwingsoffandleftherheretowither.
You’veknownherforamonthandahalf,Vincent’svoiceremindedme.AndshewouldhavekilledyouinthatringthemomenttheHalfmoonwasover.
True.Andtrue.
Still.
“Whatisit,Mische?”Iaskedsoftly.“What?”
Withgreateffort,sherolledherheadover,revealingherface.Bruisesdarkenedthehollowsofhereyesandthecornersofherlipswithmottledblack.
“Hedidn’tcome,”shemoaned.“Hedidn’tanswerme.”
Raihn.Astrange,unexpectedpaintwingedinmyheart.Ifheknewthatshehadawokenandhewasn’tthere…
“Raihniscomingback.Soon.”
Ihoped.
Hereyelidsfluttered,thecrackedcornerofhermouthtighteninginanalmost-smile.“Raihn?Iknow.Raihnalwayscomesback.”
Thesmilecollapsed.Atearstreakedhercheek.“Icalledandcalled,”shewhimpered.“Icalledandcalledbuthewouldn’tanswer.He’sleftme.”
“He’scomingback,”Isaidagain,butshejustkeptweeping,fasterandharderuntilshecouldn’tspeak—untilshecouldn’tevenbreathe.
Ihurriedtoourpacks,stackedinthecorneroftheroom,andrummagedthroughthem.Themedicalbagwaswellstocked,butnotwithanythingstrongenoughtohelpher.Thenmygazefelltomypack.IdroppedMische’sbag,wenttomine,andwithdrewthelastpotionIhadleft.Itwasmostlyempty.Notmuchremained.Itwouldn’tbeenoughtohealMische—notevenclose—butitwouldkeepheralivethroughthenight,anditwouldsedateher.
Still,Ihesitated.Thismedicinewasoneofthefewthatcouldhelpme,asahuman.Ihadn’thealedmyownburnsyet.AndtheHalfmoontrialwasrightaroundthecorner.
Mischeletoutanotheragonizedsob.Thesoundcutthroughme,slicingthelastofmyrestraint.
Icouldn’tlistentoherlikethat.Icouldn’t.
Ireturnedtoher,tiltedherheadback,andpouredinthefinaldropsofthemedicine.AndIdidn’tleavehersideashertear-streakedfacesmoothedandshefellintosleep,heavyanddreamlessasachild’s.CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
IhadneverseenVincentlikethis.
HewaswaitingformewhenIarrived.Evenintheshadows,theredonhiswingspaintedhissilhouetteincrimson.Thetopthreebuttonsofhisshirtwereundone,revealinghisHeirMark.Thewispsofsmokethatunfurledfromdelicateredinklinespulsedwithhisheartbeat.
ItwasunusualforVincenttoleavehiswingsandhisMarkvisible,butthosethings,intimidatingastheywere,werenotwhatmademystomachclenchwhenIsawhim.
Vincentwasalwayscalm—cruelwhenheneededtobe,yes,butalwayselegantlyrestrained.Now,onelookathisface,andIsawaforeignversionofhim,onethatletragesimmerrightatthesurfaceofhisskin.Normally,histemperwasasmoothblacksea,atranquilsurfacehidingthehorrorsthatlurkedfarbeneath.Now,itshiveredwithbuildingwavesandcirclingfins.
IhadneverseenanythingbutsafetywhenIlookedatVincent.Buttonight,somethinginmerecoiledatthesightofhim—asiftheeight-year-oldversionofmyselfinsisted,Itlooksjustlikeyourfather,butitisn’thim.
Thenheturnedtome,andhiseyessoftened,andwhenhisshouldersrelaxedwithalongbreathofrelief,minedidtoo.
Noonewholookedatmelikethatcouldbeanythinglessthanmyfather.AndGoddess,Iwasrelievedtoseehim.
Helookedmeupanddown.“You’reunhurt?”
Inodded.
“Youavoidedtheworstoftheattack?”
Icaughtthetruthinmyteeth.Suredid,becauseIwasoffkillingvampiresinthehumandistrictswithmyRishanpartner!Thatwouldgooverwell.
Isaid,“Yes.Igotlucky.”
“Ineverwantedyoutoseetimeslikethese.Iknewtheywouldcome,butIneverwantedyoutoseethem.”
“It’stheRishan?”Iasked,quietly.“You’resure?”
Forsomereason,IheardRaihn’svoicefromearliertoday,speakingwithsuchcertainty:TheRishandidn’tdothis.
“Yes.”
“Havetheyattackedelsewhere?”
Histhroatbobbed.“Yes.Butinsomeways,itisablessing.IthasbeentoolongsinceI’vehadanopeningtowipethemoutonceandforall.Thistime,Iwillnotwasteit.”
Heturnedfullytome,thelightfallingoverhisface.Itilluminatedaconstellationofred-blackspattersoverhisshirtandthroat—vampireblood.Darknesssmearedhiswrists,too,justattheboundaryofhissleevecuffs,andlingeredunderhisfingernails.He’dprobablyhastilywipedhishandsandfacebeforecominghere,butifhewastryingtohidefrommewhathe’dbeendoingtheselasttwodays,hefailedmiserably.
Fear,suddenandpowerful,clenchedinmychest.
IhadlostIlana.Ididn’tknowifIcouldsurvivelosingVincent,too.
IftheRishanwereindeedadvancing,hewouldbetheirprimarytarget.EveryRishanrebelintheHouseofNightunderstoodthatwinningtheirwarmeantkillingeitheramillionHiajvampires…oronlyone:Vincent.Hehadnochildren—heknewintimatelyjusthowdangerouspowerfuloffspringwere.ThismeanttheHiajclanhadnoHeirwithouthim.NoonetoinherittheHiajNightbornclan’spower.Noonetowieldit.
Whenwarbrokeoutbetweentheclans,killingtheHeirandeverypersonwhocouldpossiblyinherittheirpowerbecametheultimategoal.
This,afterall,wasexactlywhatVincenthaddonetwohundredyearsago.HehadusedhisgiftfromNyaxia—hisprizeforwinningtheKejari—toenhancehisownpowerandstriptheRishanHeirlineoftheirs.AndthenVincenthadusedthatimmensestrengthtokilleveryRishanthathadanyconnectiontotheirline,andkilleveryHiajthatcamebeforehiminhisown.EveryNightbornKing,afterall,wascrownedonathroneofcorpses.
IwatchedVincent’sgazegodistant,asifhe,too,wasthinkingaboutthatday,andanawfulthoughttwistedinmystomach.
TheRishanhadrebelledbefore,butneverlikethis.Thiswasfightingtowin
“DoyouthinktheyhaveanHeiragain?”Iasked.
VincenthadkilledtheentireHeirlinetwocenturiesago.ButNyaxia,cold-heartedbitchthatshewas,refusedtoleteitherclandieout.Shelikedherchildrensquabbling.ShewouldgiftanHeirMarktoanotherRishan,oneday.Thelasttimethathadhappened,ithadtakenmorethanthreehundredyears.Still,twohundreddidn’tseemimpossible.
IftheRishanhadanHeirlineagain,theyweremuchmoredangerousthaniftheydidn’t.They’dbeenknowntohavesmallrebellionsinthepast—liketheonethatbroughtmetoVincent—butthosewereheadlessskirmishes,drivenbynothingbutangerandrevenge.Theycouldn’thaveruledeveniftheyhadwon.
ButiftherewasaRishanHeiragain?Everythingchanged.
AmusclefeatheredinVincent’sjawinawaythattoldmehehadbeenthinkingalotaboutthatveryquestion.
“Itispossible.Ifthereisone,wewillfindout.”
Fuck.
“Ifitisthecase,”hewenton,“I’llneedyou,oncewearebonded.Wewillhavethefreedomandthepowertoinvadetheirterritories.Liberatethem.”Hegavemeasadsmile.“Iknowhowlongyou’vewantedthat.Myonlyregretisthatithastobeundersuchcircumstances.”
Thethoughtdizziedme.Alifetimeoffearandcaution,andfinally,theopportunitytoleavemymarkontheworld,notwithbrokenfingernailsbutwithteeththatcouldbitejustasdeepastheirs.
Myparentsweredead.WhateverotherfamilyImayhaveprobablywas,too.Iknewthat.Andmaybe…maybeapartofmehopedtheywere,becausebythetimeImadeittothem,Iwouldbelesslikethemthanever.Butatleastbythen,Iwouldbeabletodomorethanpickoffindividualvampiresinthenight.
Icouldbesomething.Dosomething.
IswallowedtheunexpectedwaveofemotionandgaveVincentaweaksmirk.
“IfIwin.”
Hedidn’treturnthesmile.“Youwillwin,Oraya.”
SometimesIdidn’tknowwhatIhaddonetoearnthatkindoffaith.IwishedIwasascertainashewas.
TheHalfmoontrialwasdaysaway.Thegrimreminderofthepresentcrasheddownovermydreamsofthefuture.AsifVincentrealizedthistoo,hereachedintohispocket,withdrawingasmallvialofsilverliquid.“Morepoison,foryourblades.Ihaven’tbeenabletogetmoremedicineforyou.Nexttime.”
Iwincedandtriednottoshowit.GivingthelastofmymedicinetoMischemighthavebeenamistake.I’dhavetofightwiththeburn.Thenagain,I’dfoughtwithworse.
IwatchedVincentashelookedtothesky,deepinthought.
Heseemedtohavesoftenedabitsinceourvisitbegan,butIwasstillwaryofbringingupmynextrequest.IknewhowcoldVincent’swalloficecouldbeifhefeltchallenged.Italwaysthawedforme—eventually—butIdidnotwanttogointotheHalfmoontrialonbadtermswithhim.
Still…Ihadtotry.
“Thereisoneotherthing,”Isaidcarefully.“There’sagirl.OneofmyalliesfortheHalfmoon.Shewasinjuredverybadlyintheattack,buttheMinistaerrejectedherwithdrawalfromtheKejari.Shewon’tsurvivethetrial.”
Hislipsthinned.“Unfortunate.JustmorebloodthattheRishanwillhaveontheirhands.”
“Istheresomethingyoucoulddo?Tohelpherwithdraw?”
Hiseyesflickedtome,hisstaresuddenlysharp.“Why?”
“She’smyally,andshe’stooweaktofight.”
“Thenletherdieinthering.Abandonherwhenthetrialbegins.”
IfishedthroughmymemoryofhundredsofhoursspentstudyingtheKejari.“Wedon’tknowwhatthetrialis.Itcouldbesomethingthatlinksourfates.Ifshedies,Idie.Thathashappenedbefore.ThesixthKejari.Thefourteenth.”
Two.Twooutoftwenty.Still,hehesitatedatthis.Iknewthateventhoseoddswerefartoogreatforhim.
Afteramomentofthought,hesaid,“Killhertonight.Thenshe’snolongeryourproblem.”
Itriedsohardtokeepmyexpressionneutral.Still,theshockstruckmehard.
Why?
Notlongago,therewouldhavebeennothingshockingaboutthatproposition.Actually,evenmoreshockingnowwasthatithadn’tevencrossedmymindtokillMische.
Andmostshockingofallwasthattheverythoughtfilledmewithrevulsion.
Vincentnarrowedhiseyesjustenoughtoshowthathehadnoticedmychangeinbehavior.
“What’stheobjection?TheKejariallowskillingbetweenthecontestantsthisyear.Ifshe’sthatinjured,sheisuselesstoyouasanallyinthetrialitself,andonlyadangerafterwardsifshesomehowmanagedtosurvive.It’stheclean,simplesolution.”
Itrieddesperatelytocomeupwithanargumentagainstthisandfailed.Andnow,Vincentwaswatchingmeclosely.Icouldn’tpushbackmore.Itwouldmakehimquestionsomuchaboutme.
Evennow,thefactthatIwashavingthisstrugglemademequestionsomuchaboutmyself.
“Noobjection,”Isaid.“You’reright.ButIstillhaveoneotherproblem.”
Iwaspushing.Iwaspushinghard.ButIletthewordscomeanyway.
“Thatleavesmewithonlyoneotherally.Andyouhavehim.”
“Ido?”Vincentlookedbacktothesky,asifhismindwasalreadybeginningtodrift.“QuestioningisJesmine’stask.”
Iblinked,takenabackdespitemyself.Vincenthadalwaysbeenmyonlypillarofcertainty,theonlythinginmylifethatearnedabsolutetrust.Andyet…hisignorancefelt…disingenuous.
“Hewastakenwiththeotherstoday,”Isaid.
“Weneedtofindwhodidthis,Oraya.AndourenemiesamongtheKejaricontestantsareobvioussuspects.I’msurehewillbereturnedinonepiecebeforethetrial,justlikealltheothers,onceJesmineisconfidentofhisinnocence.”
OurenemiesamongtheKejaricontestants.IknewwhatVincentdidtohisenemies.
“Ofcourse.Ijust…Ineedhim.TheHalfmoonisthedeadliestofthetrials,andmysurvivaldependsonhim.”
Vincent’sgazeleapttome.“IknowfullwellhowdangeroustheHalfmoonis,”hesnapped.“DoyouthinkI’mnotaware?DoyouthinkIdon’tthinkaboutyou,andthattrial,andhowdeadlyitisconstantly?”Hismouthcurledintoasneerthateerilyechoedtheonehehadwornduringhisdeath-drenchedspeech.“Doyouknowwhatwouldmakeitmoredangerous,littleserpent?Ifyouwerepairedwithanallywhowasmerelywaitingfortherighttimetostabyouintheback.”
“Heneedsmetosurvivethattrial,too.”
“Andafter?”
“Andafter,I’mreadytokillhimwhenIneedto.”Ispokewithdefinitiveforce,butthestatementsettledstrangelyonmytongue.“Butrightnow,Ineedhim.”
Themanwhostaredbackatmewastheking,notthefather.Hisfacewascoldandhard.Itookanotherstep.
“Hedidn’tdothis,Vincent.”
“Howcanyouknowthat?”
“Because—”Mische.Ididn’tknowhowtoexplainthattohim.“Trustme.Hedidn’t.”
“Trust.”Ascoff.“Doyouunderstandhowdangerousthatwordis?”
Itwasinsultingthatheevenaskedmesuchathing.IhadsomanyreasonstodistrustRaihn.Andmaybe…maybeIhadallowedmyselftoforgetthatmorefrequentlythanIshouldhave.
Butthis…thatlookonhisfacewhenhesawthePalaceburning…ImightnottrustRaihn.ButItrustedthat.
“Don’tbreakhim,”Isaid.“Questionhim,fine.Butdon’tbreakhim.Please.”
Vincentstaredstonilyatme.Foroneterrifyingmoment,IwonderedifmaybeIhaddonetheexactoppositeofwhatIshouldhave—ifperhapsmypleamadehimmoresuspiciousthanevenRaihn’sRishanbloodevercould.
Heloweredhisheadandsighed.“Fine.”Whenheturnedbacktomeandhisfacefellintothelight,hesuddenlylookedexhausted,hisworryetcheddeepintoeverypinchedlineofhisexpression.“Butthisiswartime.Wearesurroundedbythosewhowouldliketoseeusdead.Don’tforgetthoseteethofyours,littleserpent.Youwillneedthem.”
***
Nyaxia’stemplehadtobethegrandestbuildinginSivrinaj,acityofgrandbuildings,saveonlyfortheNightborncastleandtheMoonPalace.Nyaxia,ofcourse,hadmanytemplesthroughoutthethreeHouses—everymajorcityandevenminortownshipsthroughouttheHouseofNighthadone.ButeachHouse,intheircapital,hadonegreattributetotheircreatorandDarkMother.I’dheardthattheHouseofShadow’swasasingleblacksteelspirereachinguptothenightsky,twicetheheightofeventheirgrandestcastles.
Irarely—fine,never—wenttotheNightborntemple,locatedintheperfectgeographiccenterofSivrinaj.Itwasthefirstbuildingtobeconstructedhere.WhenSivrinajhadbeenbuilt,theNightborn—youngvampires,createdbyNyaxialessthanayearbefore—hadbeenrebuildingtheirkingdomafterithadbeenobliteratedbythehumannationstotheeast.Theyhadnothingbutthebonesofadeadsociety,freshimmortality,andinfantmagicthattheydidn’tunderstand.
Andyet,thefirstthingtheydidwasbuildafuckingchurch.Notshelter.Nothospitals.Achurch.Whatapriority.
Ihatedithere.
Everythingseemedtoechoandhushatonce.Faraboveme,silvermetalworkandenchantedstainedglasspaintedanightsky,theplatinumstarsslowlydriftingacrossit.Thelightinherewascoolanddim—allofitNightflame,safelycontainedinhundredsuponhundredsoflittlecrystaldomelanterns,whichcastlazymandalasacrosstheground.
Itwassilent.Speakingwasforbiddenonthemainfloorsofthechurch.Nyaxia’sacolytesgatheredaroundthecurvedwalls,facesinchesfromthefresco-paintedplaster,asstillandsoundlessasstatues—meditating,apparently,ontheirutmostadorationoftheirgoddess.
SometimesIthoughtNyaxiamusthaveahellofasenseofhumor.Didsheworditthatway,Iwondered?Gobuildatempletoshowmehowmuchyouloveme.Makeitnauseatinglybeautiful.Andthengoinsideofitandstareatthewallforfifteenhoursatatime.
Ofcourse,Nyaxiahadmanyotherfanaticaldevotees,andmanyofthemweremuchmoreinteresting—anddangerous—thanthedarkacolytes.IhopedIwentmyentirelifewithoutencounteringtheworstofthem.
Boringastheymightbe,atleastthepoorbastardshadexcellentdiscipline.Theydidn’teventurntheirheadsasIwalkedby,eventhoughIwasbleeding—and,howeverImightwanttodenyit,nervous—whichmeantIprobablysmelledmouthwateringtothem.
Itraveledupstaircaseafterstaircase,windingmywayupthefloorsofthechurchuntilIreachedthetop.Thesetofdoubledoors,craftedfromancientcarvedwood,loomedoverme.
Ilookeddownatmyhands.Theyweretrembling.
Fuckthat.No.IfIwasgoinginthere,Iwouldn’tletitshowforamoment—notforasingledamnedsecond—thatIwasfrightened.
Fearisaseriesofphysicalresponses.
Ishookawaytheshiveronmyskinandslowedmybreathingtoforcemyhearttodothesame.Itouchedthehiltsofmyblades—bothfreshlyfilledwithVincent’spoison—justtoremindmyselfhoweasyitwastoreachthem.
IknockedonthedoorandopeneditwhenIwascalledwithin.
Ithadbeennearlyayear—thelastequinoxfestival—sinceIhadseentheMinistaerthisclose.Itshockedmealloveragain.WhenIwasyoungerandIfirstheardtheMinistaerspeak,Iquestionedwhetheritwaspossiblehewasreallytwothousandyearsold.Onelookathimupcloseputthosedoubtstorest.
No,therewerenowrinklesonhisface,saveforacoupleofharshlinesatthecornersofhiseyes.Butallofhimjustlookedworn—everythingtoosharpandsmoothatonce.Hisskinwaspapery-thin,veinsvisiblewhereitstretchedtightoverhisjuttingcheekbones,histightlips,thelidsofhisdead-whiteeyes.Theysaythatvampires’bloodgetsdarkerastheyage.TheMinistaer’smusthavebeenpureblack.
HeroseasIentered.
“Oraya.DaughteroftheNightborn.Welcome.”
Themusclesdrewtautaroundhismouth,butitwasatwitchy,unevenmovement.Fittingforsomeonewhohadn’tknownhumanityintwomillennia.
Yetherecalledmynameimmediately.
Ishuddered.
“WhatdoyouhavetoofferNyaxiathiseve?”heasked.
Ikeptmyfacecarefullyneutral.
“You—”Ihadtocorrectmyself.“NyaxiarejectedarequestforwithdrawalfromtheKejari.Oneofmyallies.”
TheMinistaer’sexpressiondidnotchange.“Nyaxiahasherreasons.”
“Icometoyou,Ministaer,toseeifthereisanythingonecoulddotochangehermindonthismatter.”
TheMinistaerstaredatme.Hiseyes—solid,milkywhite—didn’tallowmetotracktheirmovement,butIknewhewaslookingmeupanddown.Goddessfuckingdamnhim,Ihatedthisman.Everythingabouthimrepulsedme.
“Isthereanything,”Isaid,drawingouttheword,“anythingatall,thatIcanofferNyaxiathatwouldeasethelossofthiscontestant?”
TheMinistaerwassilentforalongmoment,andIthoughtthatmaybeI’dmisjudgedhim.ThenIsteppedcloser,andhisnostrilstwitched.
Thereitwas.Hunger.
“Perhapsanofferingofbloodwouldsuffice,”hesaid.“Tocompensateforthelostbloodofferingofthecontestant.”
Everypartofmerecoiledatthewayhelookedatme.Despitemyself,myheartbeatquickened.Hemusthavefeltit,becauseIglimpsedhisdry,fleshytonguedartouttoslidealonghislowerlip.
“Asmallbloodoffering,then.”Icouldbarelychokeoutthewords.“Humanblood.”
“Human?”TheMinistaermadeastrangesoundthatsoundedlikealaughfromsomeonewhohadneverheardonebefore.ButthatgrotesquesmiledisappearedasIextendedmywrist,veinsup,overhisdesk.
Hiseyelidsfluttered.Lust.Purelust.
Hecradledmyhand,placinghispalmbeneathmine.Hisskinwastoosmooth,toocold—exactlythesametemperatureastherestoftheair.
“Ah,thisisfarbetter,”hepurred.
IcouldnotfuckingbelieveIwasdoingthis.Myotherhandcrepttomyweapon.Restedthere.
Justincase.
Isaid,“Drink.”
***
ThemomentIclosedthedoorofourchambers,Icollapsedontoanarmchair.Mywriststung,thepainburningupmyarm.I’dofferedtherightone—mynon-dominanthand—butitwasthesamehandthatmyNightfirewoundwason,makingthatentirearmnowamangledmessofpain.Myheadwasfuzzy,sensesvenom-smeared.
Raihnhadstillnotreturned,whichIdidnotlike.
Islumpedfurtherintothearmchairandlookedacrosstheroom.Mischeslept,butevenunconscious,littletwitchesofpainspasmedacrossherface.
Imadeapragmaticdecision.
IfMischedied,Raihnwouldneverbeabletocompete.AndIcouldn’ttellVincentthatIwouldn’tkillherwithoutearning—perhapsrightfully—hisdoubt.IdidtheonlythingIcoulddo.
ItoldmyselfthisasmyvisionfadedaroundMische’ssleepingform.
ToldmyselfiteventhoughIknew,somewheredeepinside,thatIwouldn’thavebeenabletothrustthatknifeintoherchest.CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
“…calledandcalledandhedidn’tcome.”
Iblinkedawaytheremnantsofmydream.Myneckhurtfiercely,wedgedatanawkwardangleagainstthearmofthechair.
Acrosstheroom,abroadsilhouettesatbeforeMische’sbed,backlitbythelanterns.
“Whydidn’thecome?”shewhimpered,overandover.“Ican’tgethimtoanswer.Ican’t,I—”
Raihnmurmured,“Don’tworryaboutthatrightnow.”
“HowcanIworryaboutanythingelse?HowcanI—”
“Worryaboutgettingbetter.Justrest.Canyoudothat?”
“I—”
Butthesilhouetteshifted,hishandgoingtoherface—perhapsusingmagic—andMischewentsilent.
Istruggledtofightthehazeofsleep.Vampirevenomwasasedative.TheMinistaer’s,oldashewas,hitmehard.
Iignoredthespinningroomandpushedmyselfupright.Raihnrose,veryslowly.Somethingwasoddaboutthemovement,butIcouldn’tplacewhat.Heturned,justenoughtoshowmetheprofileofhisface.Heraisedafingertohislips,thennoddedtothedoortothenextroom.
WhenIstood,thefloortiltedsosharplyIwassureI’dtoppleover.SomehowImanagedtofollowRaihnintotheadjoiningbedroom.WhenIclosedthedoorbehindme,theshockwasenoughtojerkmefromtheremnantsofmyhaze.
ThebackofRaihn’sshirt,oncewhitelinen,wassoakedthroughwithblood.Thestainsbloomedoverhisbacklikeflowers—somepatchesofdrynear-black,somestreaksofstiffeningburgundy,someblotchesoffreshdarkcrimson.Itcoveredthefullexpanseofhisform,plasteringthefabrictohisfleshanddousingthetipsofhishair.
“Fuck,”Iwhispered.
Heletoutalightscoff,thenseized,asiftheexpressionhadhurt.“Yes.”
“I—what—whathappened?”
Whatastupidfuckingquestion.AsifIdidn’tknowexactlywhatwouldhappentotheRishaninquestioning.
Raihnkepthisbacktome.Hisarmslifted,themovementstiffandstilted.
“HowisMische?”heasked.
“She’sbeen—”
Asifhehopedtheanswerwoulddistracthim,heyankedhisshirtoffoverhishead.
“—thesame.”Thewordsdeflated.
Raihn’sbodywentrigidwithpainforseverallongseconds.
“Fuck,”Iwhispered.
“Fu-u-u-u-ck,”heagreed,inaraggedhiss.
Therewassomuchbloodonhisbackthatatfirst,Icouldn’teventellwhatIwaslookingat.Onlytheharshside-lightingofthelanternscutthroughit,orangelightdefiningthebordersofthebrutalwounds.Thetwogashesweresymmetrical,runningdowneachsideofhisbackfromthecurveofhisshoulder,overhisshoulderblades,allthewaytothedipsatthebaseofhisspine.Theyweredeep,thefleshsplitinlayer-by-layer—deepenoughthatIcouldhaveswornIsawthemovementofmuscleashisbackshifted.
Notasinglestrike.Nothingquick.No,theskinhadbeencarefullyflayedaway,afinenetworkofwoundsfanningoutinalldirectionsfromthecuts.
Anothermarkrandownthecenterofhisback,too—alargediamond-shapedpatchofmottledfleshoverhisshoulders,whichthencontinueddownhisspine.ThebloodcoveredsomuchthatIwasn’tsureifitwasapartofhisfreshinjuriesorsomethingolder.
Iwasspeechless,eventhoughIshouldn’thavebeen.Itwasn’tthefirsttimeIhadseentheresultsoftorture.IknewthattheNightbornGuardwasrelentless.Trainedtowieldpainasjustanotherweapon.
Andyet,adizzyingboltofragespearedmeatthesightofit.Rage,andstrangebetrayal,andasinglesentence:Itoldhimnottobreakhim.
AndVincenthadlookedmeintheeyeandagreed.
Howoldwerethefreshestofthesewounds?HowmanyhadbeeninflictedafterIhadspokentohim?Didheknowhewaslyingtomewhenhesaidit?
Thesequestionsshookme,hard,oneaftertheotherlikearrows.Immediately,thevoiceinthebackofmyheadsmoothedoverthesharpestoftheiraccusations—hehasamillionotherthingsonhismind;hehadnothingtodowithit;hehadtodowhatwasrightforhiskingdom.
Butdeep,deepinsidemyheart,somewhereIwouldn’tlookattooclosely,Icouldfeelit.Acrack.
“Yourwings,”Ichokedout.“Arethey—”
Raihngavemeaweaksmirkoverhisshoulder.“ThishappenedbecauseIrefusedtorevealmywings.Madetherightchoice,don’tyouthink?”
Thereliefatthiswasshort-lived.
Hestillhadhiswings,yes.Butconjuringthemwiththesewounds,rightwheretheywouldconnecttohisbody…itwouldbeagonizing,ifnotimpossible,untiltheyhealed.
Iswallowedthickly.
“Thatneedstobetreated,”Isaid.
“Mischehasapouchofsuppliesinherpack.”Hestartedtoturn,thenwincedandgavemeanapologeticlook.“Couldyou—”
Inoddedandwenttothenextroom,grabbingMische’sbagandreturning.RaihnwasexactlywhereIlefthim,likemovingevenslightlywastoomuchforhim.
“Couldyou—couldyoukneelinfrontofthebed,maybe?”Isaid.“Youcouldleanonit.”
“YouimplyingIcan’tkeepmyselfupright,princess?”
Iwasn’timplyinganything.TheminuteIstartedstabbing,Iwascertainhe’ddoubleoverandripallthestitchesout.Evenifhehadthepaintoleranceofastatue.Statueswouldfuckingcrumbleatthat.
Apparentlymyfacehadchanged,becauseheraspedalaugh.“Iconcede.Fine.Yougotme.You’reright.”
“Icouldtrytofindsomealcohol,”Ioffered.
“I’llbesendingyouoffintothehumandistrictstobringmesomeofthatpissbeerafterthis.”
“You’dhaveearnedit,”Isaid,andmeantit.
Hechuckledagain—Mother,Ialmostfeltbadformakinghimdothat—andslowlyturnedaround.
Thetorture,itseemed,hadbeenlimitedtohisback.Asmallmercyforhim.Therewasn’tascratchonthefrontofhistorso,thoughlittlescarsnickedhisskin,clearlymucholderthantonight.Warmlightcascadedovertheswellsandvalleysofhisflesh—illuminatingthelandscapeofhismuscularformandhighlightingeveryraisedorpittedscar
Inanyothermoment,ImighthavewishedIcouldfreezetimethere.Helookedlikeapainting.Beautiful,butalsointeresting,everyexpanseofskinwhisperingofanotherstory,anotherpast.
Thestrange,irrational,overwhelmingurgetostepcloser—totouchhim—hitmeinawave,crashingandthenmercifullysubsiding.
Iswallowedandpushedawaythosethoughts.“Kneelthere.I’llsitbehindyou.”
Heobeyed,eachmovementslowandstiff.Sopainfullydifferentthanhistypicalgrace.Hekneeledattheedgeofthebedandleanedagainstit,hisarmscrossedoverthebedspread.
Isatbehindhim.Upclose,thewoundslookedevenworse.
Iletoutahissthroughmyteeth.HowcouldIevenbegintoclosethese?
“Thatsoundspromising,”Raihnsaid.
“Ijust—I’msorryforwhatI’mabouttodotoyou.”
“I’mgladyourbedsidemannerisaboutasdelicateasIwouldhaveexpected.”
Ididn’tevencrackasmile.
Irummagedthroughthemedicalbox.Mischehadeverythinginhere—disinfectants,needles,string,bandages,evenlittlesplints.Ipulledoutthedisinfectantandhopedthatitwasmagicallyenhancedinsomeway.
“Youwantawarning?”Iasked.
“Probablynot—FUCK.”
HishandsclenchedthebedspreadasIpouredthedisinfectantoverhisback.
“Ifiguredyouwereleastexpectingitthen.”
“Youfiguredright,”hegrunted.
Istrungtheneedle,eyeinghiswounds.IfeltlikeIwaspreparingforawholeothertrial.
Trials.Thethoughtofthewordmademychestclench.Vampireshealedmuch,muchfasterthanhumans.But…fuck,howcouldhecompetelikethis?
“You’vegottotalktomethroughthis,”Raihnsaid.“Awholeconversation.Thenyou’llbeinasmuchpainasIam.”
Ichokedoutalaughatthat,thoughIquicklytriedtodisguiseitasascoff.
“Ihavetostitchyouupandtalktoyou?”
Nowarning,he’dsaid.
SoIdidn’tgivehimanyasIbeganstitching.
Hisentirebodytensed.Thebedspreadshiftedasheclutchedittighter.
“Youalright?”Iasked.
“Define‘alright.’”
“Alive.”
Hescoffed.“Gladyouhavesuchhighstandards.”
Ididn’twanttoask.ButIhadto,eventhoughIalreadyhatedtheanswerIknewwascoming.“Whatdidtheyaskyou?”
“Ask.Youmakeitsoundsopolite—fff.”HehissedasImadeanotherstitch.“TheywantedtoknowwhatIknewabouttheattack.”Hisvoicetookonanexaggeratedflat,hardedge,mimickingJesmine’s.“WasIsympathetictotheRishancause?DidIknowoftheassailants?HadIeversummonedNightborndemonsbefore?WasIawareofanorganizedRishanrebellion?Mostly,theywantedtoknowifIdestroyedthefuckingMoonPalace.”
Didyou?Ialmostasked.Vincent’swordsechoedinmyears.IhadlittlereasontotrustRaihn.
ButIdidn’tsayitaloud.Ididn’tbecauseIalreadyknewthattheanswerwasno,andalreadyknewIbelievedhim.EvenifVincentthoughtIwasafoolforit.
“Yousaidyoudon’tthinkthiswasRishanwork.”
“No.Idon’t.”
“Why?”
“TheRishanaren’torganizedanymore.Yourdearfatherhasdoneawonderfuljobwhittlingthemdownoverthelastfewcenturies.Theycouldn’tgettheirshittogetherenoughtodothis.”
They.Notwe.Butthen,Ihadn’tseenRaihnsomuchasspeaktoanyoftheotherRishancontestantshere.Notthatthatwasunusual.Vampireswereterritorialandunfriendlycreatures.Hell,mostoftheHiajdidn’ttalktoeachother,either.
“Itoldthemthat,too,”Raihnchuckled,thenseized,fingerstighteningagain.“Didn’tseemtobelieveme.”
Ieyedthewoundsbeforeme.No,theydidn’t.Theydidn’tbelievehimforhoursandhoursandhours.Theydidn’tbelievehim,bymyestimation,dozensanddozensoftimes.
Idecidedtogivehimgoodnews,becauseheprobablyneededit.“TheMinistaeracceptedMische’swithdrawal.”
“Hewhat?”Hetensed,asifhisinstinctwastowhirlaroundtolookatmeandhehadtostophimself.
“Nyaxiamusthavechangedhermind.”
Heletoutalong,longsigh—sorelievedhedidn’tevenflinchatthenextstitch.
“Youdidthis,”hesaid,finally.
Iblinked.HethoughtbetterofmethanIthought,forhimtocometothatconclusionsoquickly.Itwas…touching.
“No,”Isaid.“Maybetheyrealizeditjustmadethemostsense.”
“You’reaterribleactress.”Icouldhearthesmileinhisvoice.Warmenoughtoeasethestinginmyrighthand.AlmostwarmenoughtomakemeforgetthewaytheMinistaer’slipsfeltagainstmyskin.
“Wecantakehersomewherewhenthesunsets,”Isaid.
“I’llfiguresomethingout.Hopefullyshe’llstillbetoogroggytoargue.”
Threemorestitches.IhadtopausetowipemyhandswithRaihn’sdiscardedshirt,leavingsmearsofred-blackonthefewcleanpatchesleft.
Raihnsaidsoftly,asifhedidn’tmeantospeak,“Ihaven’tseenherlikethisinavery,verylongtime.”
“Herwoundsarealreadystartingtoheal.”
“I’mnotworriedaboutthose.It’s…”
Hetrailedoff.Inthesilence,Mische’sagonizedwordsechoedinmyhead.
Heleftme.Icalledandcalledandhewouldn’tcome.
Onlynowdiditoccurtomethatshehadn’tbeentalkingaboutRaihn.
“Doyouknowwhatshewastryingtodo,whenwefoundher?”hesaid,voicefullofquietwrath.“ShewastryingtocalluponAtroxus.Hermagicfailedherandshecouldn’tgetitback.ShewastherewiththosedemonsandthatfuckingNightfirebegginghergodforhelp.Ifshediedthere,thelastthingsheheardwouldhavebeenhissilence.”
HisfingerstightenedaroundthefabricasImadeanotherstitch.
“Itoldheritwouldhappen.Ithurthereverytimesheusedthatmagic.AndItoldher,Ifuckingtoldher,thatonedayhewouldstopanswering.ThattheGodoftheSunwouldn’tkeepallowingoneofNyaxia’schildren”—hespatthetermindisgust—“todrawuponhispower.Butshejust…”
TheburnsonMische’sarms.Years’andyears’worth.Suddenlysomuchmadesad,morbidsense.
“Howwassheeverabletodoit?”Iasked.“Wieldthatmagic?”
“Shewasapriestess.Before.Whenshewashuman.”
Mybrowsleapt.“ApriestessofAtroxus?”
“Mhm.InPachnai.Camehereforsomekindofmissionarywork.Isn’tthatsomething?”Ashortlaugh,cutoffwithawince.“Missionariescomingtopreachtofuckingvampires.Andthat’swhenithappened.WhoeverTurnedherjustlefthertheretodie.Probablyfiguredhehadanicelittleeternalslaveifshelived,andatleastgotadecentmealoutofitifshedidn’t.Decidedshewastoomuchtroublewhenshegotsickandleft.Shedidn’tevenknowwhathewasdoingtoher.”
Ihadlongagogrownaccustomedtothecarelesscrueltyofthevampires.ButitstillsickenedmetoimaginewhatMische,aforeignerbarelyolderthanateenager,musthavegonethrough.
IthoughtagainoftheMinistaer’smouthonmyskin,justhoursago.Thoughtofakissonmythroat,andteeth,andpain—thenjerkedbacktorealitywhenRaihncursedbecauseIjabbedhimalittletoohard.
“Sorry.”Isteadiedmyhand.“Who?Whowasit?”
“IwishIfuckingknew.Idon’tevenknowwhatHousesheis.Shewon’ttellme.IfIfoundout…”
Heletoutalowbreaththatmadeallsortsofwordlesspromises.
Fuck,I’dhelp.
“Thethingthatkillsme,”Raihnsaid,“isthatthebastarddidn’tevenknoworcarethathewastakingliterallyeverythingfromher.Didn’tevengiveenoughofashittodraghertocivilizationbeforeleavinghertodie.Andnow…”
Andnowthefinalvestigeofherhumanitywasgone.
“Theydon’tcare,”Isaidsoftly.“Theynevercare.”
“No.Theyneverfuckingcare.Andsometimes—”Hetensed.Maybebecauseofthestitch.Maybenot.“SometimesI’mashamedtocallmyselfoneofthem.”
Idon’twanttowatchyoubecomeoneofthem,Ilanahadsaidtome.
Anduntilnow—untilthisexactmoment—Ihadn’teventhoughtaboutitasgivingsomethingup.NotuntilIheardtheacheinRaihn’svoicethathadnothingtodowiththewoundsonhisback.
“Whatwasitlike?”Iasked.“Turning?”
“Ix’stits.Yourbedsidemannerreallyisawful,princess.”
Icouldheartheexpressiononhisface.Mymouthtightened.Almostasmile.
Ididn’tthinkhewouldanswer,buthesaid,“Itfeelslikedeath.Idon’tremembermostofit.”
“Who—?”
“Nowthat’saquestionIcan’tanswerinamomentlikethis.”Thecadenceofajoke.Theedgeofarebuke.Fairenough.
Ifinishedthelasttwostitches,thenadmiredmyhandiwork.
“Howdoesitlook?”heasked.
Iansweredhonestly.“Fuckingawful.”
Hesighed.“Terrific.”
Bloodstillcoveredtherestofhisback.Itookthetowelandgentlywipeditaway—fromhisshoulders,hissides,andfinally,downthemiddleofhisspine
There,Ipaused,theclothhalfraised.Ihadbeenright—themarkdownthecenterofhisbackwasascar,abigone,farolderthanthemarksfromtonight.Itcarvedalargetriangleacrosshisupperback,thentrailedallthewaydownitscenter.Aburn,maybe?
“Howdidyougetthis?”
“No,no,no.Thatisn’thowthisworks.”Withagruntofpain,herose.“Idon’tneedtobedistractedanymore,whichmeansthatIdon’thavetoansweryourquestions.”
Istood,too,wincingasIstretchedthestifffingersofmyrighthand.Heturnedtome,thecornerofhismouthquirked,clearlyabouttosaysomethinginsulting—butthenhenoticedmerubbingmybandagedwrist,andhisfacechanged.
Thesmirkwasgone.
“What’sthat?”
“Nothing.Alittlecut.”
“Whathappened,Oraya?”
TheintensityofhisvoicestruckmeinplacesIdidn’texpect.
“Nothinghappened,”Isaid,tuckingmyhandaway.“It’sfromtheattack.”
Hiseyessearchedmyface,unblinking.Theylookedredderthaneverinthefirelight,reflectingtheorangeofthelanternsbehindme.Hedidn’tbelieveme,buthedidn’tsayso.
Ireachedintothemedicinebagandpulledoutalittleglassbottleoftablets.Itookhishandandplacedthevialinit.“Here.Theywon’thealyou,butatleastthey’llhelpthepainenoughforyoutosleep.”
Ididn’tknowwhyIdidn’tremovemyhand.NorwhyIdidn’tstepback,eventhoughhewassoclose—closeenoughhisbodyheatsurroundedme.
Iswallowed.“I’msorry.I’msorrythathedidthistoyou.”
“Itisn’tyourfault.”
Still.Ifeltit,evenifIdidn’tknowwhy.
AndIstilldidn’tmovewhenhesaid,“Onehonestthing,Oraya.DoyouwantadifferentpartnerfortheHalfmoontrial?”
Iknewwhyhewasasking.Becausenowitwasjustmeandhim.Becausehisbackwasdestroyed.Becausehecouldn’tusehiswings.
“Youcouldfindone,”hewenton.“Peoplediedintheattack.Theyleftpartnersbehind.Iwouldunderstand.”
Itsurprisedmethattheanswerwassoclear,soimmediate.
“Toolateforthat.You’restuckwithme.”
Iwatchedhislipscurl.Thesmilelookedreal.Differentthanthesmirks.
“Thehumanandthecripple,”hemurmured.“Theothersshouldbetremblinginpurefuckingterror.”
Isurprisedmyselfbyreturningit.
“They’dbetter.”
MyhandstilllayoverRaihn’scallousedpalm.Hisfingerscurledaroundmine,asifinsilentagreement.
Onemoreday.
WhentheHalfmoonwasover,wewouldbeenemies.Maybethisfeltsomethinglikeintimacy,butsoon,wewouldtrytokilleachother.
Ineverforgotthat.
Tonight,though,mysoulwasheavy—withRaihn’stortureandMische’spast,withVincent’sliesandthedarkmemoriesstirredbytheMinistaer’smouthonmyskin.MaybeIwasweak.MaybeIwasfoolish.
ButeventhoughIknewIshouldpullaway,Ididn’t.
No,IdrankupRaihn’stouchlikeonelastgulpofwine.Asecret,shamefulvice.
***
Mischewantedtostay.Eveninherhalf-conscious,deliriousstate,sheprotestedasRaihncarriedherfromtheMoonPalace.Hehadsomefriends,hetoldme,whowouldtakeherawayfromSivrinajandcareforheruntilsherecovered.IwassecretlygladshewasnotonlyleavingtheKejari,butleavingSivrinajentirely.Icouldn’tshakethefeelingthatthingsherewouldgetfarworsebeforetheygotbetter.
ShewasconsciouswhenIsaidgoodbyetoher.ShegavemyhandaweaksqueezewhenIapproached—andIlether,eventhoughIdidn’tlikegoodbyes.
“Takecareofyourself,”Itoldher.
“Youtoo.Keepfeedingthatshymagic.”Herweaksmilesoftened.“And…keepaneyeonhim,alright?”
Shedidn’tneedtospecifywho.
“Heactstough,butheneedssomeone.Andhelikesyou.”
No,hedoesn’t,Iwantedtosay.Heshouldn’t.Theworstpossiblethinghecoulddoislikeme.
ButIjustgaveMischemybestattemptatacomfortingsmileandsaid,“Rest.Getbetterquickly.”
Towhichshegavemeanequallyweak,butmuchbrighter,wave.“I’llseeyousoon.”
***
Weweresummonedonlyhourslater.RaihnandIdidn’tspeaktoeachotheronthewalkthere—whatwastheretosay?Weonlynoddedateachotheringrimacceptanceofourtask.
Weallstoodinawkwardsilenceinthegreatroom.Theonlysoundswerethehushedwhisperssharedbetweenteammates.Ilookedaroundtheroom,carefullymemorizingwhohadpairedwithwho.ThreeHouseofBloodcontestantsstoodtogether.Besidethem,Angelikaandherpartner,aslightbloodmagicuserbythenameofIvan.Ibrihimhadmanagedtofindapartner,aShadowbornman,whohadalsobeenbadlyinjuredinthelasttrial.Apparentlynooneelsewouldhavethem.Neitherlookedpleased.
Theyweren’ttheonlyoneswhoappearedtohavepairedupoutofsheernecessity.FourotherRishancontestantsnowpartneredwitheachother—presumablyoutoflast-minutechanges,dumpedbytheirpreviouspartnersafterJesmine’storture.Ieyedthemandtriednottoshowit,aknotinmystomach.
Theirbacksweresealedbeneathlayersofarmor,buttheymovedstiffly,andIcouldimaginewhattheylookedlike.Still,theydidn’tseemtobeinasmuchpainasRaihn,whocouldn’tevengetintohisownarmor.IhadtostraptheleatheroverhisbackwhilehegrippedtheedgeofthebureauandcursedthroughteethsotightIwassurehe’dcrackthem.Hehiditnow,though,andwell,tuckingeverywinceandslowmovementaway.Thiswasnotthetimetoshowweakness.
Isawitanyway.
Vampireshealedfast,buthiswoundshadimprovedonlyalittle.Iwasdisappointed,butnotsurprised.Nightbornsoldierswieldedallkindsoftricks—poison,magic,whateverittook—toinflictasmuchpainastheirtaskwarranted.Raihn’s,apparently,hadwarranteditall.
AsIwatchedtheotherRishan,Icouldn’thelpbutwonderifhishadbeenworse.Ifhehadbeenkeptlonger,torturedmore,becauseofhisconnectiontome.
Henudgedmyarm,snappingmefrommythoughts.“We’refamous,”hemuttered,motioningtotheothersideoftheroom,whereseveralHiajcontestantsstared.
Wedidmakeoneofthemore…unusualpairs.
“They’rejealous,”Isaidflatly,andhechuckled.
“We’llgivethemashow.”
Mother,Ihopedso.
Weallwaitedinsilence—preparedtobespiritedawayatanymoment.Butinstead,astringofNyaxia’sacolytesfiledintotheroom.Eachboreasilvergoblet.Theystoppedateachsetofallies,offeringthemthecup.
Theydidn’tsayaword—oursdidn’tevenlifthiseyes—buttheunspokenmessagewasclear:drink
Raihntookthegobletfirst,makingafaceofdisgustasheswallowed.“Unpleasant,butnotpoison,”hesaid,afteramoment,andpassedittome.
Theliquidwasdarkred,nearlyblack,andthick.Faintsmokerolledfromitssurface.Itsmelledslightlymusty.Icouldn’tevenbegintoimagineitspurpose.I’dstudiedeveryKejari,andnoneincludedastartlikethis.
Idrank.Ugh.Raihnwasright.Itwasdisgusting.
Iglancedathimafterhandingthegobletbacktotheacolyte,andthecornerofhismouthcurled.“Goodlu—”CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Feathers.
Featherseverywhere.Black,smothering,sodarkthatallcolorcurledupanddiedinthem.
Everythingwasdistantandnumb.Icouldnotgetmymindtoworkwellenoughtoprocessanyofit.
Thefeathersshifted.Lightseepedbetweenthem.Or…no,notlight.Eyes.Goldeyes.Terrible,cruelgoldeyes.
Iblinked,andthentheeyesbecameafacethatglareddownatmefromabove.Aman,withseverefeaturesandaneatbeardandlongblackhairthatflewoutbehindhim,minglingwiththewingsthatunfoldedaroundusboth.
Ihadneverseenthispersonbefore.Andyet,thesightofhimfilledmewithparalyzingterror.
Iblinkedagain,andthewingedman’sfacewasreplacedwithanotherone.Thisone,Ididknow.Ikneweveryangleofit.IpretendedIdidn’tseeiteverytimeIclosedmyeyes.
Myoldloverleanedclosetome,soclosethefamiliarcoolofhisbreathghostedovermycheek.“Didyoumissme?”hewhispered.
Istruggledbutcouldn’tmove.
Blink.Thetwofacesmerged,changingbackandforthwitheverypulseofmypanickedheartbeat.
Theygrabbedmyhand,pressedittotheirchest—pressedittothegapingwoundthere,rightinthecenter.Theyleanedcloser.Theirlipstouchedmyear.
“Didyoumissme?”
Theirbloodwashotonmyhand,runningallthewaydownmyforearm,asIstruggled,frantic,withnowheretogo.
***
Myarmwaswarmandwet.Myheartbeatwasoutofcontrol.Sharppainshotupmyback.Iwasinpitchdarkness,andyet,toomanysensationssurroundedme—liketwodifferentworldswerecolliding,eachfeedingmeconflictingsenses.
Oraya.
Thiswaswrong.Somethingwasvery,verywrong.
Oraya!Calmdown.Breathe.
Butevenmyownthoughtswerelost,likemymindhadbecomeagaping,cavernousmazeInolongerknewhowtonavigate.Somethingelsewashere,somethingwas—
ORAYA.CALMTHEFUCKDOWN.
Solouditshockedmythoughtsintosilence.Raihn’svoice.ItwasRaihn’svoiceboomingthroughthebackofmyskull.
But…inmymind.Notmyears.
Breathe,Oraya.Bothofus.Weneedto—weneedtocalmdown.Alright?
ForamomentIquestionedmysanity.
Ifeltashiverofwryamusementupmyspine—awordless,soundlesschuckle—anditwassuchabizarresensationitnearlysentmespiralingagain.
Youaren’taloneinthat,princess.
Iputmyhandsstraightoutinfrontofme.Icouldseenothing,buttheylayflatagainstsmooth,toothystone.Thecoldunyieldingfirmnesssteadiedme.
Andyet,eventhoughmypalmswerenowpressedfirmlyagainstthewall,Ifeltsomethingelse,too—feltthemwrappedaroundthehiltofasword.Feltthewaymymusclesstrainedtoliftit,andashockofpainupmybackasIdid.
Myhandswerehere.
Myhandswerethere.
“That’syou,”Igasped.“I’mfeelingyou.”
Myphysicalvoicefeltdullandflatcomparedtotheoneinmyhead.
Yes,Raihnanswered.
Amindbonding.Thepotion.Itmusthavebeenaspell.Itwouldtakerare,powerfulmagictoforgeatemporarybondlikethis—butIsupposedNyaxia’schurchhadalltheresourcestomaketheimpossiblepossible.
Ix’sfuckingtits
Anotheruncannyvibrationupmyspine.Ishuddered.
Don’tdothat.
What?Laugh?
Itfeelsstrange.
Thelaughteriswhatfeelsstrange?That’swhatgoestoofarforyou?Howfitting.
Strangewasanunderstatement.Everysinglepartofmerailedagainsttheunwelcomepresenceinmythoughts—eachnerveandmusclescreamedattheadditionalweightofanothersetofsensesthrustuponthem.
Fuck,Oraya,doyoufeelthistenseallthetime?
Iwastooembarrassedtoadmitthattoooften,Idid.
Specialcircumstances,Irepliedinstead.You’rejustasbad.
Thetruth.Hisanxietywasjustasstrongasmine.Different—arollingundercurrentratherthanstaggeringwaves—buteverybitaspowerful.
Ifitwasthisoverwhelminginjustadarkbox,whatwasthisgoingtobelikewhenwewereactuallyinbattle?Italmostmademesickjusttothinkaboutit.IfelttheechoingpangofRaihn’sconcern,too.
Well,we’dhavetomakeitwork.Halfofthecontestantswoulddietoday.Weneededtogetoutofhere.
Iranmyhandsalongthewall,andfeltRaihndoingthesame,whereverhewas.Smoothstonehere,smoothstonethere.
Cells.Theywerecells.
Thatmadesense.NyaxiaandAlarushadbeenimprisonedbythegodsoftheWhitePantheonaspunishmentfortheirunlawfulrelationship.Nyaxiamighthavebeenalessergoddessthen,andAlarusweakenedtoafractionofhisformerpower,butitstillprovedtobeanunwisedecision.Thetwoofthemfoughttheirwayoutofcaptivity,slaughteringexactlyhalfofthekeepersofExtryn,thelegendaryprisonofthePantheon.
ThismustbeourExtryn.
We’llprobablyhavetofightthroughwhatever’souttheretogether,whenwegetout,ItoldRaihnaswebothfeltaroundthewallsofourenclosures.Let’sgettheseopen.
Oncewefoundeachother,wewouldbenearlyunstoppable.Iwascertainofthat.
I’mtouchedthatyouthinkso,Raihnreplied,sensingthatthought.Iwasn’tsurewhattomakeofthefactthatheactuallywas,andIfeltit.
Here.Look.
Myfingertiphitalittlepatchofmetal,highupinthecornerofmycell.Ipresseddown,andstoneshifted.Click
Thedoorswungopen,lettinginafloodofcoollight—fromthestars,themoon,andthehundredsoftorchesfloatingabovethecolosseum.Itwasnight,butcomparedtothedarknessofthecell,itblindedme.
Iblinkedintoitforhalfasecond.Andwhenmyeyesadjusted,Ialmostletoutalaugh,justbecausewhatthefuckelsewasIsupposedtodo.
Beforemewascarnage.Justuttercarnage.Mostofthecontestantshadn’tevenmadeitoutoftheircellsyet,andthesandwasalreadysoakedwithblood.Monsterstoreeachotherapartinthearena—everykindofbeastonecouldpossiblyimagine.Demonsliketheonesfromthefirsttrial,thistimewithknobby,milky-whitewings.Massivecats,blackwithgrayspotsandbrightredeyes—creaturesI’donlyeverseeninstorybooks,fromtheHouseofShadow.Hellhounds—enormous,hunchedwolveswithpurewhitefur,darknessrollingfromtheirskin.TheyroamedthedunesoftheHouseofNightinpacksandhavebeenknowntoslaughterentiresettlements.
Farbeyondallofthat—pastallthatcertaindeath—wasawallmadeofpiledwhitestone,cuttingacrossthecenterofthecolosseum.Arockypathleduptoitspeak.Twogoldendoorwaysstoodatthetop,tallandnarrow,pulsingwithsilversmoke.Thestandswerepacked,aseaofshriekingfacessurroundingthearena,thrilledbythemostdramaticoftheKejaritrials.
AnothervisioncollidedwiththisoneasRaihn’sdoorswungopenandhetookinamirrorimageofthissight—from,Irealized,theothersideofthewall.
Fuck,hemurmured.
Fuckwasright.
IronboxesliketheoneIhadjuststumbledoutoflinedtheoutskirtsofthesandpit.Theonerightbesidemewasstillclosed,andthemuffledsoundofwordlessscreamingcamefromwithin.AnotherdooropenedandoneoftheShadowborncontestantsstumbledfromtheircell,clutchingtheirhead,onlytowanderstraightintothejawsofahellhound
Whatthehellwaswrongwithhim?
Manycan’texactlyhandletheweightofmultipleminds,Raihnanswered.Notlikethis.
ThroughRaihn’seyes,Iwatchedanothermanfalltohiskneesandstruggletorise.MaybewewereluckythatMischewasn’there,afterall.Icouldn’timaginetryingtosupportbothofthem.
Ilookedbacktothewallandthedoorwaysatitspeak.Ourgoal,clearly.Or…oneofthemwas.Extrynwasaplaceofcruelchance,afterall.Nodoubtonewouldleadtofreedom,andonewouldleadtodamnation.
Butbetweenusandthatthreatweresomanymore.IsteeledmyselfasIlookedoutintotheseaofteethandclawsandbloodbeforeme.Acrossthecolosseum,Raihndidthesame.
Youready?Iaskedhim.
Hewasalreadyliftinghissword.Always.
Wethrewourselvesintotheonslaught.
Atfirst,itwasastruggle.TheweightofRaihn’smindweighedheavilyonmyown.Ilostprecioussecondstoseparatinghissensesfrommine.Ikeptmyselfalive—barely—asIfoughtacrossthefirststretchofthearena,butIwasclumsy,allowingtoomanyclosecalls.
Stopresistingit,Raihnsnappedatme.Leanintoit.That’stheonlywaywemakeitthrough.
ItwentagainsteverysingleinstinctIhad.Buthewasright—Icouldn’tfighthiminsidemymindandstillfocusonkeepingmyselfalive.
We’dtrainedforthis,Iremindedmyself.Notknowingly,but…we’dlearnedtoaccommodateeachother,toanticipateandunderstandeachother’sunspokencues.Ourpartnershiphadneverbeenaboutbrutestrength.Ithadalwaysbeenaboutcompromise.
This?Thiswasjustamatterofgivingourselvesovertoit.
Andoncewedidthat,webecameasourceofstrengthtoeachother,anotherwelltodrawupon.Wemighthavebeenseparated,butitwaslikewewerebackfightingside-by-sideintheslums.Ifelteverystrikehemade,andhefelteveryoneofmine.
Still,evenaswefoundourrhythm,everystepgrewmoretreacherous.Thebeasts—clearlystarved—weremorenumerousandagitatedclosertothebarrier.Worse,bynow,alltheothercontestantswereoutoftheircells.Andweallunderstoodacutelythatourprimarycompetitionwasn’tthehellhoundsorthedemons—itwaseachother.
Onlyhalfofuswouldremainafterthis.Wefoughtlikeit.
Wewereallforcedtogetherintothesands.Earlyinthetrial,aHiajcontestanttriedtoflyupabovethecarnage,onlytoimmediatelyfalltotheground,wingsshredded.Abarrier.Wingsorno,therewasnoavoidingthepitofdeath.
Iwasbarelyhalfwayacrossthearena,andalready,Ihadtostrikedownsomeoneeverystep.AndperhapsRaihn’spresenceinmymindfueledme,butitwouldhavebeenahellofalotmorehelpfulifhewasactuallybesideme.
Idon’tunderstand,Ithought,frustrated.Whatisthepointofthis?Wecan’tactuallyfighttogetherthisway.
Butbeforehecouldrespond,painslicedacrossmyarm.Istumbled,losingpreciousgroundtotheShadowbornwomanwhohadcomeafterme.Iglanceddowntoseesmoothunbrokenleatherarmoronmyownarm,butRaihnsawatrailofbloodoverhis.
Hepaidforthatmomentofdistractionashisattackerlungedforhimagain,again,again.Igrittedmyteethandstruggledtopushbackmyown,atlastshovingherintothegripofanearbydemon.Butacrossthearena,IfeltRaihn’sfightcontinue.Hewasn’tfaringaswell.Iflinchedwitheveryblow.
Thememoryofthedemonsfromthefirsttrialhitme,andwithitcamesuddenrealization.
Justnow,Raihnhadbeenhurt…andIhadstumbled.
Whoisthat?Iaskedhim.Hisvisioncameinbrokenflashes.Icouldn’tseeaface.
What?
Whoisthatyou’refightingrightnow?Lookathisface!
IfeltRaihn’sconfusion,butheobeyed.Ashecounteredthenextblow,heshowedmehisattacker—aHiajNightbornmanwithfairhair.
Iknewhim.Nikolai.Irackedmymemory.Whohadhebeenpairedwith?
Ravinthe.Hehasabadrightknee,Vincenthadtoldmeatthefeast.
Iscannedthecrowd.Wewerelucky.Ravinthewasn’tfarfromme,justafewstridesacrossthepit.Idoveforhim.Didn’tgivehimtimetoreact—myweaponwentforhisrightknee,adirecthit.Hislegfoldedupbeneathhim,bloodspurting.Iplungedmybladeintohischestbeforehehadtimetorise.
AndjustasIsuspected,acrossthearena,Raihn’sopponentfell.
Shit,hewhispered,asparkofpleasurespearingusbothasheseizedtheopportunitytofinishNikolai.You’regood.
Wewereseparated,butthatdidn’tmeanwecouldn’tstillhelpeachother.Withthisknowledge,wecutacrossthebattlefield.Yes,weneededtogettothosegatesasquicklyaspossible,buteachofussacrificedsmallgainsinspeedtohelptheother,andthatgive-and-takemeantthatasateam,wemovedswiftly
Butthecontestantswhostillremainedwerestrong,too.TheBloodborn,inparticular,knewhowtocompetetogether.Oneofthemwasthefirsttobroachthewallofstone,fightingherwayupthewindingpathtothetop.ShehadnearlymadeitbythetimeIreachedthewall.Itlookedmorelikeamountainupclose,aloomingpileofstackedrock.Thepathtoitscrestwassteepandprecarious.Twootherswereaheadofme,choppingthroughstrayhellhoundsanddemonsthathadmadetheirwayup.
Threecominguponthisside,ItoldRaihn.
Twooverhere.
You’dbettergetherequick.
Onlyhalfofuswouldmakeit.Eleven.
Almostthere.
Icouldseethepaththroughhiseyes,justafewstridesahead.Wewerebothso,soclose.
ButImadeitonlyafewstepsupthepathwhenexcruciatingpaintorethroughmyback,thenmyshoulder.Mykneeshittheground,agasprippingthroughme.
Ittookafewsecondstorealizeitwasn’tmybodybeingslashedopen,butRaihn’s.Hissightwasjustasmearofclatteringweapons—acloudofredsmoke—aflashofwhitehair.
Angelika.
Itriedtopullmyselfup,bracedagainsttherocks.
Go,Raihntoldme.Keepgoing.Icanhandleher.
No.Hecouldn’tlie,notwithourmindslockedtogether.NotwhenIcouldfeeleachwoundsheopenedonhisbodyandhowhardhestruggledtokeepup.
Healthy,AngelikaandRaihnwerealmostevenlymatched.ButRaihnhadjustenduredhoursoftorture.
Today,theywerenotevenlymatched.
Ididn’teventhinkaboutthedecision.Iturnedback.
Ihavethis,Oraya.Go!
Iignoredhim.
IttookmeafewminutestofindAngelika’spartner,Ivan,intheescalatingchaos.Ihadtodoublebackfar—allthewaydownthewall.Ifoundhiminthethickofthefightinginthesands,dealingaweakfinishingblowtoajaguar.Hewasinjured,eachstepslowandlimping.
Thiswouldbeeasy.Itwouldjusttakemeafewminutestopickhimoff,andwithhim,Angelika.
Ivansawmecomingbarelyintimetoreact.Awaveofacidicagonyhitmeastheredmistofhismagicsurroundedus.Thewoundsonhisarmsquiveredwithexertion—withthebloodhehadtousetofuelit.
Ididn’tevenletitslowme.Ihithisarm,thepoisoneatingathisskinimmediately.
InRaihn’sbattle,Angelikafaltered.Hetookthatopening,leviedastrike—
JustasIvanpulledback,hismagicswelling.Itnearlycrippledme,unbearablepairedwithRaihn’swounds.ButIpushedthroughit,rolled,lunged.MybladeslicedIvan’sgoodlegtothebone.
Itcollapsedbeneathhim.
Thetwoofuslandedinatangleontheground.MybattlewithIvanandRaihn’swithAngelikablendedtogether,eachreducedtowildflashesofburningmusclesandbloodandsteelandmagic.
IrolledontopofIvan,pinninghim.
Painslitheredacrossmyribs.
Notmine—Raihn’s.Runningoutoftime.
IlookedrightintoIvan’seyesasIraisedmyblade,holdinghimstillbetweenmyknees,hisbackpressedtothestoneofthewall.
AndIwaslookingsointentlyathimthatIalmostdidn’tnoticethemovementoutofthecornerofmyvision.
RaihnlookedoverAngelika’sshoulder—lookedup,atthegatesofvictory.TheBloodbornwomanhadreachedthetop.Shepausedbetweenthetwodoors,clearlyhesitant.AShadowbornmanwasnotfarbehindher.Heran,notslowing,ashecrestedthetop.
Andhedidn’thesitateasheshovedherthroughoneofthearches,forcinghertotestthedecision.
Iseizedupasthegroundshookbeneathme.Ilookedupjustintimetoseetheflashoflightfromthegateconsumeeverything.
Justintimetohear,inthemindthatweshared,Raihnscreammyname.
JustintimetofeelawaveofpainasIvanburiedhisdaggerinmyside.
AndIhadnotimetoreactashismagicseizedholdofmyblood,mymuscles.Forcedthemtomovewithoutmypermission.
Andhurledmeintothethickofthebloodthirstybeasts.CHAPTERTHIRTY
Vincenthadalwayswarnedmeaboutwhatitwouldbeliketobecaughtinafrenzy.“Theywillnotwaituntilyouaredead,”hesaid.“Thereisnosense.Thereisnothought.Thereisonlyhunger.”
IhadthoughtaboutthosewordsalotinthedaysafterIlana’sdeath.WhatIhadheardthatfirstnightintheMoonPalacesoundedjustasVincenthaddescribed.Shehadbeendevouredalive,andshehadbeenpowerlesstodoanythingaboutit.Herfinalmomentshauntedme.
Now,asmybodyflungmeintoamassofstarvinganimals,mymusclesbeyondmyreachforpivotalseconds,onlyonethoughtstuckinmymind:
Wasthishowshefeltwhenshedied?
Ivan’smagicparalyzedme.Icouldn’tmove,butIwasconsciousasthosebeastsdescendeduponme.
Theanimalshadbeenprovokedintoadeliriumbytheviolenceandstarvation.Theyhadformedtightlypackedgroups,alltwitchingmusclesandfoamingmouths,asifperhapssomepartofthemknewthatitwastheironlychanceatsurvival
Forasplitsecond,itstruckmeasdeeplysad.Theywerejustanimals,afterall.Killersreducedtopreyforentertainment.Justlikeallofus,really.
Ifeltitwhenthefirstone,ademon,grabbedaholdofmyleg.Immediately,Iwassurroundedbysomanythattheycompletelyshadowedthesky.AllIsawwasteethandclaws.
Icouldn’tevenscream.
Oraya!
Raihn’spanicfloodedme.Itwasjustasintenseasmyown.
Ididn’tknowwhattomakeofthat.
Butsomethingaboutthatpanicjoltedthroughme,theburstofitsharpenoughtocutthroughtheremnantsofIvan’smagic.Myhandsflewout,stabbingwildly.
Itwasn’tenough.
Thereweresomanyofthem.Iwasbleedingtoomuch.Bloodwasbad.Bloodwasdangerous.Ilashedoutwithmyblades,butitwasfutilepanicinanendlessseaoffleshandskinandfurandfeathers.
Iwasgoingtodie.Mother,Iwasgoingtodie.Myheartbeatwaswild.Everypumpofbloodbroughtthemcloser.
I’mcomingforyou,Oraya.
Ididn’tlikethat.HowscaredRaihnsounded.HehadmanagedtoslipAngelika,andhewasrunning,running,running,pushingthroughthecrowdonhissideofthewall.
Hewouldn’tbefastenough.
Useyourmagic,heurged.Isawflashesofhisvisionasheran—sprintinguptheunsteadystoneofhispath.
Youaren’tevenfarfromtheend.Useitrightnow.
Icouldn’t.Icouldn’tgripmyownpower—evenwhenIcould,Iproducedlittlemorethanwispsoflight.Ifoughtandthrashedandstruggledtocalmmyself,and—
Itoldmyself,Fearisacollectionof—
FearisthefuckingKEYtoit,Oraya!Raihn’svoice,boomingwithfearofhisown,filledbothofourminds.USEIT.Pretendthatyou’rethrowingmeoutthefuckingwindow.Pretendthatyou’redraggingMischeoutofthatburningapartment.
Shamefultearsprickedmyeyes.
Ididn’tknowhow.Didn’tknowhowtoletgoofthatwallwithinmyself.I’dbuiltitforsolong,cementedovereverycrack.NowIclungtoit.TerrifiedofwhatwouldhappenifIletmyselffall.
I’mwithyou,Oraya.Rightnow.Youdon’thavetime.We’llgotogether.Alright?I’mwithyou.
Thatshouldhaveterrifiedme.
Thebeastsoverwhelmedme.Mybackhitthesand.Ademoncrawledoverme,itsfaceinchesfrommine.Itwentformythroat—rightthereontheside,rightwhereIhadascarthatremindedmeoftheboyItriednottothinkabouteverynight.
Now,Iletmyself.Letmyselfthinkofhimforthefirsttimeinsomanyyears.
Letmyselfthinkofmyparents,crushedinabrokenbuildinginawarthathadnothingtodowiththem.
Letmyselfthinkofalittlelostgirlwithdarkhairhuntedinamaze.Alittlegirlwithdarkhairleftaloneinaruinedcity.
Letmyselfthinkofalifetimespenthere,trappedbymyownfear,trappedbythesefuckingpredators,thesemonsters,thesethingsthatdidn’tseemeasanythingotherthanlivestock—
AndthenIrealized.Irealizedthatfear,whenembraced,hardensandsharpens.
Thatitbecomesrage
Thatitbecomespower
Iwouldnotdiehere.
Iletmyfuryexplode.
Iletitspilloutthroughmymouthandmyeyesandmyfingersandthetipsofmyhair.Iletiteruptallthewaytothesky—pastthestars,themoon,reachingforNyaxiaherself.
AndIfeltherreachback.
TheNightfireroaredthroughme,surroundingmeinablanketoflightandheatandpower.Itconsumedeverything—thedemons,thehellhounds,thevampires.Consumedmyskin,myeyes.Consumed,aboveall,myanger.
IWOULDNOTDIEHERE.
IgrippedmybladesbutdidnotneedtowieldthemasIrose.Ibarelyrememberedmoving.BarelyrememberedsteppingthroughaseaofwhiteflamesoverNightfire-eatencorpsesthatmighthavebeenanimal,mighthavebeenvampire,onmywayupthepath,climbingandclimbing.
IstoppedonlywhenIreachedthetop—whenIlookedupattheskyandsawthemoon.
SuddenlyIfeltso,sosmallagain.Awarenessplungedbackintomyinjuredmortalbody.Nauseachurnedinmystomach.Mylegsalmostgaveout,andIthrustmyhandouttosteadymyself.
Theflamesfellaway.Myeyesstruggledtoadjusttothedarknessinthewakeofsuchblindinglight.
Iwasatthetopofthewall,inthecenterofthecolosseum.Myhandbracedagainsttheframeoftheoneremaininggate,theothernownothingbutcharred,twistedmetal.Ifeltstrangeandunsteadyandempty.Behindme,atableauofdevastationtrailedfromthesandsofthearenaupthecrumblingwallofrock—scorchedstonesandpilesofcleanwhitebones.
Theaudiencewatchedinsilence,thousandsofeyesuponme.Theirfacesallblendedtogether.Vincentwasoutthere,somewhere.Iwasgoingtolookforhim,butinsteadmygazedrifteddown,justseveralpacesaway,towherethepathfromtheothersideofthearenacrestedthetopofthewall.
Raihn.
Hewasonhisknees,staringupatme.Andthat—thewayhelookedatme—wasthefirstthingthatfeltreal
Real,andraw,and…andconfusing.
Becausehelookedatmeinsheerawe—likeIwasthemostincrediblethinghehadeverseen.LikeIwasafuckinggoddess.
Iblinkedandtearsstreameddownmycheeks.WhateverIhadcrackedopeninsidemyselftoaccessthatpowerbledlikeanopenwound.
Raihnroseslowlyatfirst.
AndthensofastthatIdidn’thavetimetoreactwhenheclosedthespacebetweenusinseverallongstrides—andthenhewasallaroundmeatonceinafirmembrace,andmyfeetwereofftheground,andmyarmswerearoundhisneck,andIwasallowinghimtoholdme.Allowingmyselftoclingtohim.Allowingmyselftoburymytear-streakedfaceinthewarmspacebetweenhischinandthroat.
Andsuddenlynotasinglething—nottheaudience,orthearena,orthearch,ortheNightfire,orNyaxiaherself—existedexceptforthis.
“Youworriedmeforaminutethere,”hemurmuredagainstmyhair,hisvoicerough.“Ishould’veknownbetter.”
Heloweredmeuntilmyfeettouchedthegroundagain,thenreleasedme.Swayinganddizzy,Ilookedoutoverthestands.
Vincentwasrightinthefront,halfwayacrossthering.Hewashalfstanding,hiseyeswideandunblinking.Onehandclungtotherail.Theotherclutchedhischest—asiftryingtoholdinhisownheart.
Imusthavebeenweakwithbloodloss.BecauseIeventhoughtthatperhapsIsawasilverstreakdownhischeek.
“Let’sgo,”Raihnsaidsoftly,hishandonmyback.
Iturnedtothedoor,andtheghostlysilenceoftheMoonPalacewelcomeduswithopenarms.INTERLUDE
Theyoungwomanthoughtshewasinlove,orsomethinglikeit.Tobeyoungandinloveisanincrediblething.Itteachesonesomuch.
Shehadneverhadafriendherownage,andsoshelearnedhowtosharelittlepiecesofherselfwithanother.
Shehadneverknownaromanticpartnerbefore,soshelearnedhowtokissandtouch.
Sheknewherfatherwouldnotapprove,soshelearnedhowtohidethingsfromhim.
Herdarkworldwasalittlebrighter;coldroomsalittlewarmer.Heryoungmanwasshyandsweet,andheseemedtobeenamoredwithher.Shewouldspendlongdaysretracinghiseveryword.
Perhapsinanotherworld,thesetwopeoplewouldnothavefoundmuchincommon.Butinthisworld,inwhichtheyhadsolittleelse,theybecameeverythingtoeachother.
Theyfellhardandfast,andtheyoungwomanlovedtherushofit.Shewantedmore.Theypriedthemselvesawayfromeachoftheirmeetingspantingandbreathlessandforevergreedyformoreofeachother’sskin.
Theyoungwomanhadneverexperiencedsexbefore.
Butoh,shewantedto.
Sheknewthatnightwhatshewantedfromhim.Whatshewantedtogivebacktohiminreturn.
Theymetinhisroom.Theirkissesweremessyandfrantic,punctuatedwithgaspsandmoansaslipsgrazedsensitiveflesh.Theirdesireforeachotherfellovertheminadrunkenhaze,morepotentwitheverylayerofcloththeyrippedaway.
Shewasfaintlynervousashepressedhertothebedandclimbedoverher.Nervousasheopenedherthighsandpreparedtopushintoher.Butshewasnervousasallyoungpeoplewerewhenlosingtheirvirginity.Andthatnervousnesswasnothingcomparedtoherdesire.
Thepainwasbriefandquick.Sheburieditinthesensationofhisshakingbreathagainstherskin,theirfleshascloseasitcouldeverbe,hismouthpressedtohers.
Hewasgentle.Atfirst.
Whenhefirstbegantomove,swellsofpleasuremingledwiththeremnantsofthepain.Witheachstroke,slowanddeep,itbuilt.
Theyoungwomanturnedherselfovertoitandthoughttoherselfthatshewouldnever—never—feelanythingthisgoodeveragain.
Whendidthefirstsparkoffearcome?Whendidthatlittlevoiceinthebackofherheadwhisper,Wait,somethingisnotright?
Perhapsitwaswhenhisthrustsgottoofast,toohard,thepleasure-to-painbalancedisrupteddespitehermuffledwordsofhesitation.
Perhapsitwaswhenshetriedtositup,seizecontrol,butheforcedherbackdown,thesharpedgeofhisfingernailsopeninglittlebloodywoundsonherflesh.
Perhapsitwaswhenhisnostrilsflaredatthoselittledropsofblood—maybethebloodonhishands,orthebloodbetweenherlegs—andhiskissestohercheek,herjaw,herthroatgrewdeeper.
Grewharder.
Grewsharper.
Hislipswerelovingatfirst.Thenpassionate.
Andthenithurt
Ithurt,ithurtithurtit—
Theyoungwomancriedout.Shetoldhimtostop.Perhapshedidnothear;perhapshedidnotcare.
Bloodlust,understand,isaterriblething.
Fearseizedher.Histeethweredeepintoherthroatasshethrashed.Hewasstrongerthanher.Herpowerlessnesswasanoose,readytostrangleher.
Theyoungwomancamesoclosetodeaththatday.
Butshegrabbedthesilvercandelabrafromthebedsidetableandsmasheditoverherlover’shead.Itwasnotenoughtokillhim,butshewasnottryingtokillherloverthatday.Shehadneverkilledbefore.
Shewasshaking,herheartbeatingfrantically.Asshepushedhimoffofher,shecaughtjustoneglimpseofhisface—dazedconfusion,andthenhorror,asifhehadnotevenrealizedwhathehaddone.
Tearsstreakedhercheeks.
Shethoughtshewasinlove.Shehadnotlearnedyethowdeadlysuchathingcouldbe.
Shehidhertears,grabbedherclothing,andran.Shedidnotlookbackwhenhecalledforher.Herbrokendreamandherbrokenhearttoreherfleshtopieces.
Shewasbleeding.Shewasfrightened.Shedidnotintentionallychoosetoruntoherfather’sroom.Butwhereelsecouldshego,inahomewhereeverythingwasdangerous?
Thekingopenedhisdoorandlethisweepingdaughterinside.Shewasareservedyoungwoman.Hehadtaughtherhowtokeepheremotionscarefullytethered.Buttonight,shewasdistraught.Herloverandhisbetrayalhadshatteredherdefenses.
Thekingwrappedhisdaughterinablanket,listenedtoherchokeoutherstory,andwassilentashewipedthebloodfromherthroat.
Hemadeadecisioninthatmoment.
Theyoungwomandidnotknowit.Notyet.CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Elevenofusremained.
Ivanwastherewhenwearrived,andAngelikafollowednotlongafterRaihnandIdid.Thelast,toeveryone’sshock,wasIbrihim,whodraggedhimselfthroughcoveredingore,hisswordbloodied,eyesfarawayandempty.Hehadkilledhispartnerrightbeforesteppingthroughthearch.Halfwasanoddnumberthisyear.Onlyoneofthemcouldlive.
Ibrihimdidn’tseemallthatbrokenupaboutit.
HowmanypeopledidIkilltoday?Iwondered,numbly.
Everyonewasstaringatme.Notinthesamewaytheyusuallydid,either.Notwithamusedhunger,butwarycuriosity.
Icouldn’tdecideifIlikedthechange.
Unliketheothertrials,theMinistaerandhisacolyteswaitedintheMoonPalacetogreetusaswereturned.AfterIbrihim,thegate—whichstoodofitsownaccordinthecenteroftheroom—simplyfadedaway,leavingwhoeverstillremainedbeyondittotheirbloodyfates.
Thesilencewasdeafening.TheMinistaerregardeduswithaplacidstare,anexpressionthatonlyvaguelyresembledasmiletwistinghismouth.
“Congratulations,”hesaid.“YouarefinalistsoftheKejari.Youhavemadeitintothefinaltwotrials.OurDarkMotherisverypleasedwithyou.”
Noonelookedpleasedwiththemselves.Onlygrimlydetermined.
“Tocelebrateyourvictory,”theMinistaercontinued,“aceremonialfeasthasbeenheldatNyaxia’spleasure,inhonorofyourgifttotheMotheroftheRavenousDark.Thebloodthathasbeenspilled,andforthebloodyouhaveyettogiveher.”
Hissmilebroadened,asifthiswastheonlythingthatbroughthimgenuinepleasure.
Sometimes,IthoughtNyaxiawasabitdepraved.
“Go,”hesaid.“Healyourselves.Rest.TheMoonPalace,byNyaxia’sgenerosity,hasofferedyouallyouneed.Returntothechurchatsundown.”
***
TheapartmentwastooquietwithoutMische.RaihnandIdidn’ttalkaswereturned,andIwasinfinitelyconsciousofthesilence.
Hespokefirst,onlyoncethedoorwasshutfirmlybehindhim.“Sixwholehoursofrestafterwenearlydiedfortheentertainmentofourbenevolentgoddess.”Hegavemeahalf-smile.“Howgenerousofthem.”
Iraspedaforcedchuckle,andhisbrowflattened.
“What?”
“Hm?”
“Thatsoundedlikeadyingcat,butwhatconcernsmeevenmoreisthatyouactuallyfakedalaughatajokethatwasn’tevenfunny.”
That,Ialmostwouldhavelaughedat.Butmyheadwasfoggyandmybodyexhausted.Nowthattheshockofthetrialwasstartingtowearoff,whatIhaddone—andthefactthatIunderstoodsolittleofit—hadbeguntosetin.
“Hey,”Raihnsaidsoftly.
Ilookedathim.
Andoutofeverythingthathadjusthappenedtoday,thismomentmighthavebeenthemostfrightening.
Becauserightnow,twotruthscareenedintomeatthesametime:
One,thathelookedatmelikemywell-beingwasactuallyimportanttohim.Thathemustactuallycare,becauseI’dfeltthewayhecared.I’dfelthispanicwhenIwasindanger,andthatmeanthe’dfeltminewhenIthoughtAngelikawouldkillhim.
Two,thattheHalfmoonTrialwasover.Wenolongerneededanalliance.Andthatmeantthateitherhewouldkillme,orIwouldkillhim.
ThesetwoundeniablefactscollidedsoviolentlythatIfoundmyselfleaningbackagainstthewall.
“Well,”Isaid,“wedidit.”
Myvoicewashoarse.
“Wesurefuckingdid.”
Hetookastepcloser,hiseyesneverleavingmine.
Ishouldhavetensed.Ishouldhavereachedformyblade.
Ididn’t.
“Youwerefuckingmagnificent,Oraya,”hemurmured.“Ihopeyouknowthat.”
Iliftedmychinandsaid,withasmuchconvictionasIcouldmuster,“Iknow.”
Helaughed.Hiseyescrinkledwhenhesmiled.HadInoticedbeforehowmuchIlikedthat?
“Getalittlerestifyoucan,”hesaid,“beforethefeast.I’llleaveyoualone.Getreadyinadifferentapartment.”
Hespokesocasually,butIknewwhathereallymeant.Wasthishowheacknowledgedwhathadchangedbetweenus?Wasthishiswayofsaying,Neitherofushavetomakeanymovesyet?
Eitherway,Iwasgratefulforit.GratefulthatIdidn’thavetospendthesenextfewhourstalkingmyselfintokillinghim.WhatevertheOrayaoftomorrowhadtodo…thatcouldbeherproblem.TheOrayaoftonightcouldjustwatchhimforalittlelonger.
IrefusedtoletevenahintofanyofthisintomyvoiceasIreplied,“Fine.”
Heloweredhischin,wenttothedoor,andopenedit.Justbeforeheslippedthrough,Isaid,alittletooquickly,“Raihn.”
Heglancedback.
“I’lladmitthatyouwereagoodally,”Isaid.
Hewinkedatme.“Youknewitfromthestart,”hesaid,andclosedthedoorbehindhim.
***
Ihadn’tbeensureexactlywhattheMinistaermeantwhenhe’dsaidthat“theMoonPalacewillprovide,”butitturnedouthemeantitveryliterally.
TheMoonPalacegavemehealingpotionsanddressings.Itgavemeahotbathwithseventeenridiculousscentsofsoaps.ItgavemeasetofhairbrushesthatIhadnoideawhattodowith.
Anditgavemeagown.
WhenIreturnedtothebedchamberaftermybathtoseeitlaidoutneatlyoverthebedspread,asifplacedtherebyasilent,invisibleservant,Iactuallylaughedaloud.
“Thismustbeafuckingjoke,”Isaid,tonooneinparticular.
Obviously,Icouldn’twearthis.
ButIhadnootheroptions.AsiftheMoonPalacehadpredictedmydispleasure,ithadtakenawayanyalternatives.Thedrawersandclosetswereempty.Evenmybloodyarmorwasgone.So,afterwanderingaroundtheroomnakedforafewminutesinfruitlesssearchforsomethingelse,Iputonthedamneddress.
Ibarelyrecognizedmyselfinthemirror.
Thefabricwassmoothandsilkyandadark,richviolet—astrangelyfamiliarshadeIcouldn’tplace.ThefrontfellintoadeepV,thetopstructuredenoughtodefinethecurveofmybreasts.Itwasheldupbyblackmetalchainstraps,andthatsameglisteningebonymetalencircledthebodice,adorningmyribcageinamannerreminiscentofarmor.Thebackwaslowandopen,thelongchainscrossingovermyback.Theskirtpooledlightlyaroundmyfeet,whichdonneddelicatesilversandals.
Thoughthedressclungtomybody,itwasn’trestrictive.Inearlyfeltnakedinthelight,airyfabric,anditeasilymovedwithme,thevioletripplinglikewaterthroughshadesofblackandpurple.Ileftmyhairfreeandstraight.Itdriedsmooth,fallingdownmybackliketendrilsofshadow.
Istaredatmyselfforalong,longtime.
IquiteliterallycouldnotrememberthelasttimeIhadseenmyselfinclothingcreatedtobebeautiful.Inever,everworeanythingdesignedtoattractattention.Andthisdress…well,itwoulddefinitelyattractattention.IthighlightedallthethingsInormallytriedtohide:myskin,myshape,andthevery,veryexposedcolumnofmythroat.
“Ican’twearthis,”Imutteredtomyself,again,butthistimeIsoundedlessconvinced.
Becausethetruthwas…Ilikedit.ItwasthekindofthingI’ddreamedofwearingwhenIwastooyoungtounderstandthatdoingsowouldbeapoorsurvivalchoice.
Still,Iwentbacktomypackonelasttimeinafinalfutileattempttofindsomethingelsetowear.WhenIopenedit,Isawwhythisdresslookedsofamiliar.
Thatpurple.Buncheduprightthereatthetopofmybelongings.IwouldneverletanyoneknowhowmanytimesIpulleditout,justtoholdit.
Ireturnedtothemirror,Ilana’sscarfinmyhands.Iletitfallopen.Thefabricwasbatteredandstained.Butitscolorandtexturewereexactlythesameasthegown’s.Thetwocouldhavebeencutfromthesamestretchofcloth.
Myeyesstung.
Icouldpracticallysmellthecigarsmoke,hearhercraggyvoiceinmyear:You’dbetterwearthatdress.You’dbettershowthosecunts.
Fine.Iwould.Withoneaddition.
ItiedIlana’sscarfaroundmythroat—abandofbloodstainedpurplesilktightaroundmyneck,leavingtwofluttering,slightly-scorchedtrailstodangleovermyshoulder.
IfIwasgoingtoletmyselfbeaspectacle,atleastI’dbeonethatfuckingmeantsomething.
…AndI’dstillfindsomewheretoputmydaggers.CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Ifthechurchwasbeautifulinsilence,itwasdownrightstunninginmovement.Ishoweduplateintentionally—ifIwasgoingtoletmyselfoutinvampiricsocietypracticallyinmyunderwear,I’ddoitonceeveryonehadalreadyeaten,thankyouverymuch—andbythen,thefeastwaswellunderway.
ItputeventhedebaucheryofVincent’spartiestoshame.
Itwasstunning,ofcourse.Everyglasssurfaceandwindowofthechurchhadbeenilluminatedwithblueandpurplelights,whichhoveredneartheceiling.Musicreverberatedfromeverycornerandcrevice.Thoughtherewasonlyoneorchestra,magicenhanceditsperformance,eachnoteechoingoverandoveragainuntilthesoundswelledtofillthemagnificentdomedroof.Ivyvinesbearingredandblackflowersencircledeverypillar.Onesideofthespacehadbeenturnedintoadancefloor,whiletheotherheldthreelongtables.Uponthem,aselectionoffoodsprawledthatdwarfedthefeastonthefirstnightoftheKejari—ImadeanotetomyselftomakesureIstolesomeofthatlater.
Butevenmoregruesomelyimpressivethanthefoodwasthesheeramountofblood.Therewasso,somuchblood.Bowlsofitateveryseat,everytable.Flavoredblood.Alcoholicblood.Bloodineverypossiblepresentation—bakedintofood,offeredincarafes,presentedingoldenbasins.Gobletswereneverfarfromreach.Drunkenpartygoershadalreadyadornedthetableclothandfloorwithsplashesofred.
Mystomachturnedinawaythatsurprisedme.
Ishouldhavebeengrateful—withthismuchavailable,IwasassafeasIeverwouldbesurroundedbysomanyvampires.AndIwasnostrangertowhatvampirefeastsoftenlookedlike.
Sowhydidthisbotherme?WhydidIfindmyselfthinkingsomuchmoreaboutwhereitallmighthavecomefrom?
Isteppedintotheroomandpassedseveralofmyfellowcontestantssprawledoutintheirchairs,alreadyhavinggorgedthemselvesonallmannersofdelicacies.Iwonderedifthiswasintentional.Perhapsthiswasthelastbloodanyofthemwouldbeseeingforquitesometime.
TheotherguestspaidmoreattentiontomethanIeverwouldhavetoleratedbefore.Ifelttheireyesandhadtoremindmyselfnottoshrinkbeneaththem,acutelyawareofeveryexpanseofbareskinInowleftondisplay.Whenapackoffivevampiresblatantlyswiveledtheirheadsafterme,staringwithaterrifyingmixofcuriosity,hunger,andwariness,theprimalpartofmethathadbeentrainedmyentirelifetoavoidthisveryscenarioactuallyconsideredleaving.
Instead,Itouchedthescarfonmyneck—touchedthestainofmyfriend’sblood.
Youarenofuckingcoward,Oraya,Iheardherwhisper.
No.Iwasnot.
IlookedaroundforRaihn,but—
Lightfootstepsapproached,andIturnedtomeetthembeforetheygottooclose.Vincentstoodbeforeme,atightsmileatthecornerofhismouth.
Ihadn’tseenhiminthismuchlightsincetheKejaristarted—notupclose.Heworeblack,hisjacketopenatthenecktorevealmostofhisHeirMark.Hiswingswereout,too,theredattheiredgesespeciallystrikingunderthislighting.Iwonderedifheeverhidthemnow,orifheneededtomakesuretheywerealwaysvisible,withhisruleunderattack.
Itwasn’ttheclothing,ortheMark,orthewingsthatshockedme,though.Itwashisface.Hiseyeslookeduncannilybright,justbecausethedarknessbeneaththemwassopronounced.Everyplaneofhisexpressionwassharpandpinched,asifhe’dseteachfeatureinstone.Andyet,thecontrolinitwascracking.Isenseditbefore.Now,itwaschillinglystark.
Itallsoftened,ofcourse,whenhesawme.
Istiffened,twoimpulseswarringwitheachother.
Ilookedathimandsawthewayhehadseemedreadytohurlhimselfintothatpitduringthetrial.
And…IlookedathimandsawRaihn’sback.Heardtheliehehadtoldme.
Ihadn’thadthechancetowrestlemyangerintosomethingIcouldcage,andshowingVincentuntamedemotionswasadangerousprospect.
Still,heseemedso,sorelievedtoseeme.Hetookinmyappearance,afaintwrinkleofconfusionpassingoverhisbrow.
“Whatareyouwearing?”
“Somethingdifferent.”
Mywordswerecurt.Ididn’tfeellikeexplaining.
“It’sunwise.”
Unwisetoexposesomuchofmyself.Unwisetodrawattention.Unwisetowearanythingotherthanarmor.
“Iknow,”Isaid.
Hedidn’tseemtoknowwhattodowiththat.Hegavemeanoddlook,likehewasjustnoticingsomethingnewaboutme.MaybeinthesamewayIhadjustnoticedsomethingnewabouthim.
Vincentwasneverthetypetodropatopic,soIwasmildlysurprisedwhenhelethisexpressionsmoothandinsteadofferedmehishand.“Adance?”
“Adance?”
Mynosescrunchedupwithoutmypermission,andhegaveadrychuckleofamusement.“Suchanoutrageousprospect?”
“I—”IstoppedmyselfbeforeIletmyselfspeak.Still,myfacewas,asalways,tooexpressive.HeglimpsedtheangerIdidn’twanttoshowhim,anyway.
“Somethingbothersyou.”
“IsawwhatyourmendidtoRaihn.”
“Raihn?”
“Myally.”
Hisfacefell.“Ah.”
“You—”Ihadtochoosemywordscarefully.“Youtoldmeyouwouldn’tbreakhim.”
“Nothingabouthimseemedbroken,”Vincentsaidsimply.“Ididn’twitnessJesmine’smethods,butIsawhimfightwellinthattrial.”
Foughtwellinspiteoftherelentlesstorturehehadendured.
Isaidnothing,becauseIdidn’ttrustmyselfto.EvenwhatI’dalreadyrevealed,Ithought,wouldbetoomuch.Butcontrarytomyexpectations,Vincentmerelyseemedwearyandsad.
“Iamawartimekingleadingmypeoplethroughdarktimes,”hesaid.“AndJesmineisageneralwhoknowshowtodowhateverittakestoprotectherkingdom.Andsometimesthosetasksrequireunpleasantactions.Iwon’tdenythat.”Heextendedhishandtomeagain,aweak,softsmileathislips.“ButtonightI’mjustafatherwho,twelvehoursago,wascertainhe’djustwatchedhisdaughterdie.Soplease,littleserpent.Indulgeme.Letmebethatmanforjustafewminutes.”
Iswallowed,hesitating.
Livingthislifehadrequiredmetolearnhowtobemanycontradictorythingsatonce.Itforcedmetodivvymymindupintomanylittlerooms,eachcontainingadifferentpartofmyself.Now,thebeastofmyangercalmedenoughformetolockitawaysafelywithinitscage.Itwasnotgone.Itwasnotsatisfied.Butitwasrestrained.
“Idon’tknowhowtodance,”Isaid,atlast.
“That’sfine.WecanpretendI’mabetterfather,andthatItaughtyousuchthingslikeIwassupposedto.”
Isoftened.
Fuckit.
Itookhishand,andVincentledmetothedancefloor.Westayedofftotheside—farawayfromtheborderline-orgythatwashappeninginthecenteroftheroom,whichwouldhavebeenaveryawkwardplacetobewithmyfather.
“Youtaughtmemoreusefulthingsthandancing,atleast,”Isaid.
Hespunmeintoposition.MaybeIdidn’tknowhowtodance,butIdidknowhowtomove,andIcertainlyknewhowtofollowhislead.AllofthisresultedinfarlessawkwardstumblingthanIwouldhaveexpected.
“Andyoulearnedthemwell,”hesaid.“Thatandmore,ifwhatIsawlastnightwasanyindication.”
Theprideinhisvoicelitanechoingflickerofwarmthinmychest.Despitemyself,mycheekstightened.
Itstillfeltlikeafeverdream.Iwasn’tcompletelysurewhatIhaddone,orhowIhaddoneit.ButIknewonething:Ihadfeltpowerful,trulypowerful,forthefirsttimeinmyentirelife.
Vincentlaughedsoftly.“Don’thidethatpride.Itiswelldeserved.”
“Ididn’tknowIcoulddothat,”Iadmitted.
Didheknow?DidhesuspectIwascapableofthatkindofpower?
“Neverbeashamedofexceedingexpectations,”hesaid.“Evenmine.”
Ihadneverevenconsideredthatitwaspossibletodosuchathing.Vincent’sexpectationswerethemoldIwaspouredinto—therewasnowhereformetogo,nothingformetobe,butwhathemademe.Iunderstoodyoungthattheharshwordsandthestronghandswerenecessary.Hewastryingtokeepmesafe,andonemistakewouldbeallittooktodestroymyfragilemortallife.
VincentwouldneverapologizetomeforwhathehaddonetoRaihn.Maybeheshouldn’t.Maybe,underhiscircumstances,hedidn’tdoanythingwrong.
Buttonight,hewouldpretendithadn’thappened.Andmaybe,fortonight,Icouldkeepfollowinghislead,justasIhadforthelastfifteenyears.
Yet,Icouldn’thelpbutprod.Justalittle.
“TheRishan?”Iasked,verycasually.“Anythingnew?”
“Always.I’llbetravelingagainsoon,goneforafewweeks.Butlet’snottalkaboutsuchdarkthings.Fornow,I’mhere.”
Hesweptmearoundthedancefloor,andIwasremindedsuddenlyandvividlyofonetimewhenIwasstillsmallenoughforhimtocarrymeinonearmandheshowedmewhatitwasliketofly—justalittle,justfromthebalconytotheground.Onetimeandnever,everagain.
Itoldhimthis,andforsomereason,thesmilethattwitchedathislipsmademyheartache.
“Irecall,”hesaidsoftly.“ItwasthefirsttimeIsawyousmilesinceIhadbroughtyouhere.”
“Ididn’trememberthatpart.”
“Ineverforgotit.”
IthoughtofwhatithadbeenliketoflywithRaihn—evenundersuchawfulcircumstances,stillsofreeingandexhilarating.
“Whydidn’tyoueverdoitagain?Takemeflying?”
Thesmilefaded.“ThelastthingIwantedwasforyoutothinkyoucouldandstartthrowingyourselfoffofbalconies.”
Becauseitwasalwaysaboutprotectingme.Always.
Asifhe,too,hadthesamethought,hesaid,“Itnevergets…”Hisvoicetrailedoff,likethewordsgrewtoobigorcomplextofitintosyllables.Hiseyeswentfaraway.Hisstepsevenslowed.
Aspikeofconcern.“Vincent?”
Hiseyesreturned,blinked,felltomine.
“Ican’ttakecreditforeverythingthatyou’vebecome,Oraya.EvenifsometimesIwishIcould.ButifI’mresponsibleforjustonesmallpieceofthat,itwillhavebeenthegreatestaccomplishmentofmylife.”
Webothhadstoppedmoving,andIwasgratefulforit,becauseIwouldhavetrippedovermyfeetinpureshock.
Hehadnever,everspokenthiswaytome.Notonce.Notever.
“Indesperatetimes,onethinksaboutallthethingstheyhaven’tsaid.Andyesterday,whenIsawyoufall,IrealizedthatperhapsIhadneversaidthattoyou.Itoccurredtomethatperhapsyoudidn’tknow—thatyoudidnotknowhowmuchI—”
Vincent,theNightbornKing,themanwhohadnevermetathreathecouldnotdefeat,seemedtobowbeneaththewordshestruggledtochokeout.“Itwasimportantformetotellyouthat.That’sall.”
Mylipsparted,butIdidn’tknowwhattosay.
SometimespeoplewouldcallmeVincent’spet,asifIwassomepassingdistractionorsourceofamusement.AndthoughIneverquestionedthathelovedme,inhisownway,sometimesIwouldstillwonder.Hehadlivedmylifetimetentimesover.Hewasmorethanthreehundredyearsold,andIhadonlybeenapartofthatforlessthantwentyyears.
ThewaveofwarmthIfeltathiswordsdimmedquicklytocoldfear.
“What’swrong?”Iasked.“Whathappened?”
Becausethatwastheonlyreasonwhyhewouldtalklikethis.Ifsomethingawfulwasabouttohappenorhadalready.
Buthejustshookhisheadandsweptmebackintoourdancesteps.“Nothing.I’vejustbecomeasentimentaloldman.AndIlookforwardtothedayIdon’thavetoworryaboutoutlivingyou.”
Astreakofbrightnessoverhisshouldercaughtmyeye—afamiliarformIwouldnowknowanywhere,evenfromacrosstheroom.Raihnwasleavingthroughthedoorsthatledtothepatio,wearingablacksilkjacketwithadeepvioletsashthathungdownhisback,hishairunboundinthosemessyred-blackwaves.Ionlyglimpsedhimbeforehewasgone.
IbroughtmyattentionbacktoVincentquickly,butnotquicklyenough.He’dnoticedmydistraction.Hegavemeahalf-smileasthemusicfaded,thenswelledagain.
“Onemoresong,”hesaid,quietly,“andthenI’llletyougo,mylittleserpent.”
MychesttightenedwithaswellofemotionIcouldn’tplace.Eerilysimilar,perhaps,togrief.Thestrangesensationthatsomethingexistedhere,inthisdance,thatIdidn’twanttorelinquish—asensethatonceIletthismomentslipaway,itwouldbegoneforever.
Itwasasillythought.Ididn’tknowwhyitcrossedmymind.
Still,Islidmyhandbackintohis.Thistime,Itookthefirststep.“Onemoresong,”Iagreed.
***
Thenightwashot.BythetimeIwanderedtothepatio,sweatslickedmyskin,andthehumidityoutsidedidlittletocoolit.Whenournextdanceended,VincenthadsteppedoutofhisroleasmyfatherandsteppedbackintotheroleoftheNightbornKing,rulerofawartimenation.HewascommandeeringandseriousashewanderedofftoJesmine,speakingwithherinahushed,hurriedvoice—thekindthatIknewbetterthantoeavesdropon.
Gardenssurroundedthechurch,sprawlingeventhoughitwasinthecenteroftheinnercity,wherespacecameatapremium—anditwasdoublyextravagant,becauseintheHouseofNight,waterwasevenmorerare.Butwhatdidn’tourgoddessdeserve?NothingwasmoreimportantthanNyaxia,andNyaxiadeservedthemoststunninggardensonthecontinent
Well,practicalityaside,shecertainlygotthem.Silverandblueflowersspreadbeforemeinblanketsofcolor.Itwassodisgustinglybeautifulitjustseemedexcessive,allofitimmaculatelyshapedandprunedandweededandwatered.Marbletilepathscircledtheclustersofgreeneryinfunctionallyimpracticalbutartisticallybeautifuldesigns.Fromabove,theywouldshapethesigiloftheHouseofNight.
Figured.They’dcreatesomethingforherthatonlyshe,andthey,couldappreciate.
Movementtotheleftcaughtmyeye.Aclusterofsilverstoodamongthebushesataneighboringpath—alldressedindeepred.IrecognizedAngelikaimmediately.Itwasimpossiblenotto.Sheworeadrapedgownofdeepredfabric—sleeveless,showingoffhersculptedmuscles—withhersilverhairfallingdownherbackinabraid.BesideherwasIvan.Bothofthemhadtheirheadsbowedinseriousconversationwithathirdfigure,whosebackwastome.
Thatfigure,asifsensingmystare,turnedtolookoverhisshoulder.
Recognitionspearedme.
ThemanI’dspokentothatnightbytheriver.Themanwhohadgivenmethecigarillos.HewasBloodborn.StandingnexttotheotherHouseofBloodcontestants,itseemedsowildlyobvious,Icouldn’tbelieveIhadn’tnoticeditbefore.
HeliftedhishanddismissivelytoAngelikaandIvaninawaythatmadeitclearthatnotonlywasheBloodborn,hewasalsopowerful—becauseAngelika,thetypeofpersonwhoseemedlikeshedidn’ttakeordersfromanyone,fellbacktotherestofthepartywithoutanotherword.
“Youdidityetagain,”themansaidasheapproachedme.NowthatIknewtolistenforit,IcouldheartheHouseofBloodaccent—sofaint,likehe’dstompeditoutoverthecourseofdecades,reducingittojustthehintofamelodicliltbeneatheachword.“Youwonmequitealotofmoney.ButI’mafraidafterthatdisplay,theoddsagainstyouwon’tbequiteasfavorabletoyourfewbelievers.Shame.Plentyofbenefitinbeingunderestimated.”Heliftedashoulderandletitfall.“Ishouldhavebroughtyoumorecigarillos.I’mafraidI’mallout.”
Myeyesslidtohim.Iletthemrestthereforalongmoment,takinghiminnowthatIwasseeinghiminthelight.HelookedBloodbornineverysense.Hiseyes,thepupilsslightlyslittedagainstthelanternlight,heldthosetelltalestringsofcrimsonandgold.Theredmarksathisthroatlingeredjustbeneaththeedgeofhiscollar,whichwashighandstiffinburgundyfabricofthetraditionalHouseofBloodstyle,simpleandtailored.BeforeIhadn’tbeenabletotellifhishairwasblondeorsilver,andnowIrealizedthatitwasboth—ashyblond-graywithshocksofnear-white.
Thecornerofhismouthtightened.
“It’salittleinsultingtobestaredatthatway.Butthen,Isupposethat’softenyourreality,isn’tit?”
“JustwonderinghowImissedthefactthatyou’reBloodborn.”
“Ah.You’reright.Wesharedsuchalovelymoment,andyetIneverproperlyintroducedmyselftoyou.”Heextendedhishand.“Septimus,oftheHouseofBlood.”
Ididn’ttakeit.Instead,Isteppedbacktocompensateforthewayhehadleanedcloser,whichheseemedtofindamusing.Hewithdrewhishand—unshaken—andslippeditintohispocket.“Isee.Youdon’ttakeanemptyhand.Smart.Didyourfatherteachyouthat?”
Thehairprickledatthebackofmyneck.
Ididn’tlikethisman.Ididn’tlikethewayhespoke,Ididn’tlikethestupidlittlesmirkonhisface,andIespeciallydidnotfuckinglikethatheseemedtothinkhewasplayingwithme.
“Thereyouare.”
IchosenottothinkaboutexactlyhowrelievedIwastohearRaihn’svoice.NordidIwanttothinkaboutthefactthatRaihnstoppedveryclosetome—socloseourshoulderstouched—andmyonlyimpulsewastomovecloser.
Iglancedathimandhadtoremindmyselftolookaway.
Helookedmagnificent.HisclothingwasdifferentthanthestylemostoftheotherNightbornmen,RishanorHiaj,worehere.Hisjacketwascutclosetohisbody,tailoredasifithadbeenmadeforhim.Thelapelfastenedstraightup-and-down,ratherthanasymmetricallylikemostNightbornfashiondidnow,thebuttonsbrightsilvermoons.Darksilverembroiderylinedhiscollarandthecuffsofhissleeves,andasweepingcapeofvioletdrapedacrosshischestandhungoveroneshoulder.
Itwas…alot.TheMoonPalacehadapparentlyseenfittospoilhim.Yetdespiteallthefinery,hisfaceandhairwereasroughandunkemptasever.
Septimussmiled.“Raihn.Iwasjustcongratulatingyourpartneronhervictory.Youtwowereremarkable.”
Ihadtohidemysurprise.Septimusaddressedhimbyhisfirstname.Asiftheykneweachother.
Icouldpracticallyfeeltheaircurdle.Raihn’sexpressionwenthard,everymusclerearrangingintowhatIknewbynowwasutterdistaste.
“Thanks,”hesaid,inatonethatdidn’tbothertohideit.
“Now,thisisaninterestingthought…”Septimus’seyesflickedbetweenthetwoofus.“NowthatIcan’tplacemybetsonthetwoofyoutogether,IwonderwhoIshouldputmysilveronnexttime?Someoneuneducatedmightthinkitwouldbeeasyforyoutokillher,Raihn,butIthinkNessanynhasagoodchanceof—oh,I’msorry.”Anotheroneofthosesmiles.“It’sOraya,isn’tit?I’vealwaysbeenbadwithnames.”
Nessanyn?
Inarrowedmyeyes,myhandsdriftingtomyblades,whichI’dsecuredonmythighs.Agoad,obviously,evenifIdidn’tunderstandwhatitmeant.Andthestrikehititstarget,becauseRaihn’sentireformwentrigid,theshiftinenergysoabruptIfeltitwithoutevenlookingathim.
“Youshouldbepayingmoreattentiontoyourowndogs.”Heturnedaway,hishandonmyback—myvery,verybareback—ashegrumbled,“Let’sgo.”
“Havealovelynight,”Septimuscalledafterus.
Wewalkeddownthegardenpathswithoutlookingback.Raihnwasstillvisiblytense.
“Sorry,”hesaid.“Ishouldhaverescuedyoufromhimsooner.”
“Youknowhim?”
“Unfortunately.He’sbeensidlinguptoeverycontestanttoseewhathecanwringoutofthem.Surprisedyoumadeitthisfarwithoutgettingthebruntofit,too.”
“Whoishe?”
“OneoftheprincesoftheHouseofBlood.EveryBloodborncontestantisintheKejariathisbehest.”
“Whyishehere?”
IhadwonderedwhytheBloodbornbotheredtoentertheKejariatall.EvenNyaxiaherselfwashostiletoBloodbornvampires.Twothousandyearsago,theHouseofBloodwasherfavoredkingdom,butwhentheyturnedagainstherinasquabbleoverthegiftsshe’dchosentogivethem,shecursedtheminstead.Now,sheofferedtheHouseofBloodnolovewhatsoever.ABloodbornvampirehadwonaKejarionlyonetime—morethanamillenniumago—andNyaxiahadbeenreluctanttoevengrantherawish.
Iwasn’tsureifIimaginedthebeatofhesitationbeforeRaihnanswered.“TheHouseofBloodwantspowermorethananything.Evensmallalliancesgoalongway.”
Thatmadesense.AllHouseswerewelcomeintheKejari.ItwasprobablytheonlytimethatBloodbornroyaltywaseverabletofreelyinteractwithothervampirekingdoms.
“HeseesalotofopportunitywiththeHouseofNightbeingatwarwithitself,thefuckingvulture,”hemuttered,asiftohimself.
WewalkedafewmorepacesinsilenceasImulledthisover.
IbecameawareofRaihn’sstare—evenwithoutlookingathim,Icouldfeelit,startingatmyfeetandtrailingup,lingeringoneveryexpanseofbareskin.
Istoppedwalking.Thenturnedtofacehim.WestoodcloseenoughthatIhadtotiltmychinupabittomakeeyecontactwithhim.Inoticedthisforthefirsttimeinweeks.WhenhadIstoppedthinkingaboutthesizediscrepancybetweenus?Whenhaditstoppedbeingathreatandstartedbeing…oddlycomforting?
“Youlooknice,”hesaid,inatoneofvoicethatmadenicesoundlikeamillionotherpromises,eachofwhichshiveredovermyflesh.
Iasked,“Who’sNessanyn?”
Aflinch—ofsurprise,ormaybediscomfort?—flittedacrosshisface.
“Anoldfriendwhodeservesmorerespectthantobeusedassomeprick’spatheticattemptatintimidation.”Hiseyeshardened.“Becarefulwithhim.He’sadangerousperson.”
“Somewouldcallyouadangerousperson.”
Thecornerofhismouthcurled.“Notwithyou.”
Ihopedhedidn’thearwhateverstrangethingmyheartdidatthat—thesuddentightnessinmychest.
Hisgazeliftedpastme,tothechurchandthepartyhappeningwithinitswalls.
“Ihatebeinghere,”hesaid.“Doyouwanttogosomewheremorefun?”
Iknewitwasstupidtoagree.
Andyet,Ididn’tregretitatallwhenIansweredwithouthesitation,“Fuck,yes.Please.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Alright,fine.I’dadmitit.Thepissbeerwasstartingtogrowonme.Ididn’thateit.Maybe…maybeIevenenjoyedit.
Butstill,Ididn’tmakethefacethatRaihndidwhenhedrankit.Likehewascomingascloseashe’devergettothegodsthemselves.
Hefinishedhisgulpandloweredhismug.Hisbrowfurrowedashemetmyeyes
“What’sthatfacefor,princess?”
“Myface?Iwasthinkingaboutyourface.”
Hisbrowsnotchedlower.“Whataboutit?”
Iwassupposedtosaysomecuttinginsulthere.Ihadbeenpreparedwiththosewordsonthetipofmytongue.Butjustinthatmoment,themoonlightfelloverhisfeaturesinjusttherightway,andIswallowedallofthem.
BecauseIrealizedthatIcouldn’tsayanythingaboutRaihn’sface.Ihadmemorizedeverysingleline,everytwitchofexpression.
Thatrealizationsatheavyinmystomach.Iswallowedagulpofbeerinsteadofanswering.
Wesatontheflatrooftopofanabandonedhouse.Raihnhadspiritedmeofftohisfavoriteterriblepubwithhisfavoriteterriblebeer.Evenwithmyhumannessandhisexcellentactingskills,wecouldn’texactlysitaroundintherewithoutattractingtoomuchunwantedattentionwhiledressedlikethis,sowecameouthereinstead.
Ilikedit.Wehadanicevantagepointtowatchthestreetswhileremaininghiddenfrompryingeyes.Maybeallourhardworkhadpaidoff,becauseitseemedlikepeoplewereactuallylivingtheirlivesouthere.OrmaybeIhadjustlearnedtoappreciateitmore.Humansleftlittlemarksoftheirliveseverywhere.Flowersinwindowboxes,toysleftinyards,aseriesofshoesonthedoorstepthatpaintedtheimageofafamily.
Ihadnevernoticedthesethingsbefore,andcertainlyneverfoundbeautyinthem.Now,Ituckedeachoneawaylikelittlesecretgifts.
Raihnletoutagroan,lethisheadfallbackagainstthewall,andloosenedanotherbuttonofhisjacket.Itwasthethirdone,leavingitopendowntohissternumandrevealingalongtriangleofmuscledfleshthatItriednottolooktoocloselyat.
JustasItriednottonoticethewayhiseyeslingeredonmyskinwhenIliftedmybeer.
JustasItriednottonoticethatIenjoyedit—theweightofthatgaze,heavyasatouch.
“It’sarelieftobeawayfromthatstuffyplace,”hesaid.“Muchmorepleasantouthere.”
“Youbarelyevenspentanytimeinthere.”
“Onlyenoughtowaitforyou.”
Heclampedhismouthshutrightattheendofthesentence—likehedidn’texpectittosoundthewayitdid.
Onceagain,Icarefullydid-not-noticethis.
“Besides,”hewenton,“Icouldn’texactlywanderaroundsocializingwearingthisridiculousoutfit.”
Ididn’tknowwhatthatmeant.
“Why?”Itookasipofbeer.“Doesitoffendyourfashionablesensibilities?”
“It’sabouttwohundredyearsoutofstyle.”Raihnscoffedandshookhishead,hissmilesouring.“TheMoonPalacehasacruelsenseofhumor.”
Ididn’tknowwhatthatmeant,either,butbeforeIcouldask,Raihn’seyesfellbacktome.Theystartedatmyfaceandsliddown.Isatwithmylegsfoldedbeneathme,thesilkofmydressbunchedaroundmyupperthighontheleftside,wheretheskirtslit.Hisgazetraveledfrommyeyestomymouth,downmythroat,shoulder,side,allthewaydownthebarecurlofthatleg.
Itlingeredthere,onmythigh,andIdidn’tsomuchasbreatheasIwatchedhislipscurl.
“Dangerous,”hesaid.
Yes,Iagreed,silently.
“Butresourceful.”Hissmilebroadened,andIrealizedhewastalkingaboutmyblade—strappedaroundmyupperthigh.
Iexhaled.“Ihadtobecreative.”
“I’dbedisappointedifyoudidn’twalkintothatpartyarmedtotheteeth.”
“You’rearmed,too.”
Iliftedmychintohissword,whichhadbeenstrappedacrosshisback.Ihadtonotice,now,whenRaihnwasarmed.Thatswordcouldkillmewithasinglestrike.
Heshrugged.
“What’sthis?”heasked,motioningtohisthroat.
Myownfingersmimickedthemovement,andIbrushedIlana’sscarf.Thereminderofitmadeaknotofgrief—andanger—tighteninmystomach.
“Itbelongedtoafriend.”
SometimesIresentedthefactthatRaihnsooftenheardthethingsIdidn’tsay.Rightnow,though,maybeIwasalittlerelievedbyit.
“Ahumanfriend,”hesaid.
“Yes.”
“Theonefromthatnight?”
Webothknewwhichnighthewastalkingabout.
They’redead,littlehuman.
Igavehimaquestioninglook—howdidheknow?—andherespondedwithafaint,humorlesssmile.
“ItsmellsliketheMoonPalace.”
Fuck.Fuck,Ihatedthat.
Raihn’ssmilefaded.“What’sthatfacefor,princess?”
“Ijust—itshouldn’tsmelllikethatplace.Itwas…hers.Itdoesn’tbelongtothem.”Itouchedtheendofthescarf,windingitaroundmyfingers.LikeifIclutchedittightlyenough,Icouldfeelherhandsasshehadtriedtogiveittome.Mother,IwishedIhadtakenitfromherthen.
Andnowitseemedlikeonemoredemeaninginjustice.Thattheplacewhereshehaddiederasedthefinalremnantsofherlife.
Itfeltridiculous.Nodoubtsoundedridiculous,too.Andyethisfaceshiftedslightly—shiftedinawaythatsaidheunderstood.Heleanedalittlecloser.
“Thatisn’tall,”hesaid.“Italsosmellslike…”
Hiseyelasheslowered,andagain,hemovedabitcloser—onlyinchesbetweenusnow.
“Likeroseperfume,”hemurmured.“Andbread.And…cigarsmoke.”
Ichokedastrangesound,involuntarily.Sooften,Ihadbeenjealousofvampires—jealousoftheirstrength,theirspeed,theirpower.ButnevermorethanIwasinthismoment.IwouldhavegivenanythingtosmellIlanaagain.Smellherandthatdisgustingmessyapartment.
“Really?”Isaid,myvoicerougherthanI’dintended.“Yousmellallofthat?”
“It’sabitdifficult,overthescentof…”Heclearedhisthroat.“Well.You.Butyes,Ido.IfItry.”Hiseyesliftedtomine.“It’sallstillthere,Oraya.ThePalacedidn’ttakeeverything.”
Myfingerstightenedaroundthefabric.
“Whatwashername?”heasked.“Yourfriend?”
“Ilana.”
Ihadn’tactuallyspokenhernamealoudsinceshedied.Theshapeofthesyllablesonmytonguefeltlikerebellion.
“I’msorry,”hesaidsoftly.“I’msorryforwhathappenedtoher.AndI’msorrythat…thisisahardplacetogrieve.”
Ahardplacetogrieve.Whatanunderstatement.Therewasnoroomforgriefinaplacelikethis.Noroomforsoftnessorvulnerability.Andcertainlynoroomforthekindofanger,messyandundignified,thatIlana’sdeathhadignitedinsideme.
“Shewasaperson,”Isaid,betweenmyteeth.“Notprey.Notagame.Shewas—”
Fuck,whatwasn’tshe?Shewassilkandcigarsmokeandashorttemperandamillioncontradictions;afulllifeofathousandotherthoughtsanddreamsanddesiresforthefuture—andsomeonewhomIloved,deeply.
Iloweredmygazetotheclayoftheroof,myhandstightandknuckleswhitearoundmymug.Iwaitedforthestinginmyeyestopass.
“CanIaskyouaquestion,Oraya?”Raihnsaid.“Youdon’thavetoanswer,ifyoudon’twantto.”
Inodded.
“Whenwewerebondedinthetrial,Ifelt…Ifeltalotofthings.Youranger.Fear.Thegrief.”
Myjawtightened.Myinstinctwastolashoutathimjustforacknowledgingthathesawthosethingsinme—Isofiercelyguardedthem.Butthen,therewasnoaccusationofweaknessinhisvoice.AndI’dfeltallofthatinhim,too.Justaspotentinhisheartastheywereinmine,albeitindifferentways.
“IfyouwintheKejari,”hewenton,“wouldyouaskNyaxiatochangeyou?”
Iunderstoodexactlywhathewasasking,andconsiderednotanswering.HeisRishan,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.Icouldn’ttellhimaboutbindingmyselftoVincent,becominghisCoriatae.Thosedetailswerefartoosensitive.
ButRaihn,damnhim,sawthecruxofmyansweronmyface,evenwhenIhadn’tsaidaword.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Youwill.”
Hesoundedoddlydisappointed,whichIhated.
“Whywouldn’tIaskhertomakemesomethingdifferent?”Ishotback,abittooquickly.“Doyouhaveanyideahowexhaustingitistolivethisway?Ican’tchangeanything,beanything,ifI’mjuststuckbeingprey.”Iclampedmyteethdownonmywords,thenshookmyheadonce.“No.Ican’tdothatlikethis.NothowIamnow.”
“Youcan’t?”
IhadtoforcemyselftomeetRaihn’seyes.Ihalfthoughthewasmockingme.Buttherewasnothingfeignedinhisstare,nothingingenuine.Onlysadness.
Inthattrial,hehadlookedatmelikeIcoulddoanything.LikeIwasmorepowerful,moreawe-inspiring,thanNyaxiaherself.Noonehadeverlookedatmethatwaybefore.
Andevennow,ashadeofitlingered.
“Don’tbesoquicktothrowawayyourhumanity,Oraya,”hesaid.“Youmightfindyoumissitonceit’sgone.”
Andmaybemyhumaneyeswereweakinthedarknesscomparedtohis,buttheshadowwasn’tenoughtohidethetwingeacrosshisfacethathepretendedwasn’tthere.
“Thosepartsofyourselfareneverreallygone,”Isaidquietly.
“Sometimes,I’mnotsureaboutthat.”
“Youdon’tthinkIseehowhardyou’veworkedtoholdontoyourhumanity?You’remorehumanthanIam,Raihn.You’vekepteverypartofitthatmakesyouvaluethethingsinthisshittyworldthatnooneelseheredoes.You’vekeptthecompassion.Itdoesn’tmatterifyourbloodrunsblacknow.Thathasn’tchangedyou.”
Sucharawcomplimenttastedstrangeonmylips.Itwassouncomfortablyearnest.ButIsaiditbecauseIknewheneededtohearit.
And…Isaiditbecauseitwastrue.
Raihnwentverystillandverysilent.Andslowly,soslowly,hisgazeliftedtome.
Before,hehadlookedatmelikeIwasagoddess,andIhadthoughtIcouldn’tfeelmorepowerfulthanIdidinthatmoment.
Iwaswrong.
BecausenowhelookedatmelikeIwasmorethanthat—likeIwashuman.Somehow,thatmeantmore.
Ihadtoforcethesmirktomymouth.“What’sthatfacefor?”
Iexpectedadrychuckle,averbalnudgetomyribs.Butheremainedstoneserious,awrinkledeepeningbetweenhisbrows.
Mysmirkfaded.“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Givemeonehonestthing,RaihnAshraj.”
Afteralongmomentofsilence,hefinallyspoke.
“I’velivedthroughsomeinjusticesinthelastcoupleofcenturies.Seensomefuckingtravesties.Butoneofthebiggest,Oraya,isthatanyonetaughtyouthatyoushouldbecomeanythingotherthanexactlywhatyouare.”
Myhandswentnumb.Myfingersweresotightaroundmymugthattheytrembled.Thewordssplitmefromthroattonavel,pulledmeopenandtouchedmymostfragileparts.
Mymindemptiedofthoughtforseverallongseconds.Andthenonlyonereturned:
Iwillneedtokillthisperson,andIdon’tknowifIcan.
ItwasamercythatRaihndidn’twaitforaresponse.Hejuststoodandextendedhishandtome.“Let’swalkforawhile.”
***
Theskywasgrowingfaintlyrosywiththepromiseofdawn.Wewalkedinthesouthernendofthedistrict,slowlywanderingcloserandclosertotheMoonPalace.
Ihatedtime.Ialwayshad—itwasforeveramarkerofthegulfbetweenmeandthevampiresthatsurroundedme—butnevermorethanIdidrightnow,asthisnightslippedthroughmyfingers.
Anyminutenow,Raihnwouldtrytokillme.OrIwouldhavetokillhim.Asourconversationgrewslower,thesilencebetweenourwordslonger,Iknewthatpromisewassinkingintousboth.
Finally,hestoppedinadarkenedsidestreet.RockystepsleddowntothebankoftheLituroRiver.Westoodexactlyontheboundarybetweenourworlds—theinnercitydirectlyacrossthewater,thehumandistrictbehindus—thesunwarningofitsarrival.Hepausedandlookedoutovertheview—firsttoourleft,totheskylineofSivrinaj,andthentheright,tothehumandistrictandthedunesrollingbeyondthem.
Thenhestretchedandreachedforthebuckleofhisscabbard,whichcutacrosshischest.
Itensedandsteppedback.Myhandreachedformyblade,stillstrappedtomythigh.Onethought:Thisisit.
Buthejustunbuckledthestrap.“Here.Putthisoverthereforme,willyou?Mybackisstillfuckingkillingme,andthisthingisheavy.”
Mybrowfurrowed.“What?Why?”
“Justputitoverthere.”
Hespokesocasually,liketherewasnothingatallunusualaboutwhathewasaskingmetodo.
Itookthescabbardfromhim.Ididn’tknowhowhecartedthisthingaroundallthetime—itwas,indeed,outrageouslyheavy,somuchsothatIhadtostrainallmymusclestokeepfromlettingitslip.
Ididasheaskedandlaiditagainstthewall.
Raihnwanderedtwostepsaway,leavingmeclosertohisweaponthanhewas.
Itwasallsononchalant.ButIknowthiswasaperformance.I’dspentmonthsnowstudyingRaihn’severymove.Thiswasjustlikehisfightingstyle.Themagichiddeninbrutishstrikes.
Ijustdidn’tunderstandwhy.Iwatchedhim,waitingforthetrick.
Heturnedtome,thenloosenedanothertwobuttonsofhisjacket,exposingseveralmoreinchesofhisbarechest.Heleanedagainstthewall,thenpulledapartthefabric,lookeddownathimself,andfrowned.
“Igotanastycutatthetrial.Eventhehealingdidn’thelpitmuch.”
“You…what?”
“DoyouthinkIshouldbeconcerned?”
Ididn’tmove.
Herolledhiseyesatme.“Honestly.Justcomehere.”
Idid.Heheldopenthelapelsofhisjacket,hisheadtiltedbackagainstthewall—abroadtriangleofbareskin,andhisthroat,completelyexposedtome.
Me,whowasarmed.
Whilehisswordwasoverthere,outofhisreach.
Allatonce,Iunderstoodwhatthiswas.Whatweweredoing.
Hewasofferinghimselftome.Hewaspresentingmeaperfectopening.Heknewit.Iknewit.Webothknewtheotherknewit.
Icouldkillhimrightnow.Itwouldtakesolittle.Iwouldplungethebladerightthere,rightinthecenterofthatperfectexpanseofskin.HisbloodwouldprobablybewarmerthantheothersIkilled—Ididn’tknowwhyIthoughtthat,onlythatIwasalmostpositiveitwouldbetrue.Iwonderedifhewouldclutchmeasitended.Howhisfinalbreathwouldfeelovermyface.
“Well?”hesaid.“Whatdoyouthink?”
Isteppedcloser.
Ourbodieswerenearlyflush.Thesmellofhimsurroundedme.Ithitme,whatthatelementofitIhadn’tbeenabletoplacewas.
Hesmelledlikethesky.Hesmelledthewayairfeltasitrushedaroundyou,freeingandterrifyingandthemostbeautifulfuckingthingyou’veeverexperienced.
Myfingertipstouchedhischest.Hisskinwaswarm.Hehadafewscarshere,too,andasmatteringofdarkhairthatwassofterthanIexpectedittobe.Thesuddenurgetoflattenmypalmagainsthisskin,runmyhandsacrossallthosedifferenttextures,nearlyoverwhelmedme.
I’denviedvampiresmyentirelife.Butnow,forthefirsttime,Ifeltasharppangofsympathyforthem.
Becausesuddenly,Iunderstoodwhatitwasliketobehungry.
Itwasfuckingexcruciating.
“Hm,”Isaidflatly.“Looksserious.”
“Iwasconcernedyoumightthinkso.”
Idraggedmystareawayfromhischest,uptheelegantcordsofmuscleofhisthroat,uptohislips—allpromise,etchedintothedelicatecurveofasmilethatcommunicatedsomanythingshedidn’tsay.
IimaginedthatifIkilledhimhere,thatsmilewouldlinger.
“Yourheartisbeatingfast,”hemurmured.“Youmustbeveryconcernedformywell-being.”
IletoutashakybreaththatItriedtopassoffasalaugh.
AndIdidn’tmove—couldn’tmove—myfingersstillbrushinghisskin,ashishandliftedtomyface.Ilethimtouchme,too.Lettheimmaculateroughbrushofhisknucklescaressmycheek,thenunfoldovertheangleofmyjaw.Histhumblingered,slowlymovingoverthecurveofmymouth,mylowerlip.
“Orareyouafraid?”
Thesmilehadfaded.Itwasarealquestion.
Andtheanswerpetrifiedme,becauseIwasnotafraid,andthatwasthemostterrifyingthingofall.
Icouldopenhisshirt,slidemyhandsovertheexpanseofhischest,andthrustmypoisonbladerighthere—rightintohisheart.Hecouldtearawaythisridiculousdelicatespiderwebofadressandcutmeopen.
Thetwoofuscouldburneachotherup.
Myeyesliftedtohis.Ihadneverlookedatthematsuchadistancebefore.Irealizedtheylookedredbecausetheywerecomprisedofsomanydifferentthreadsofcolor—near-blackandhoney-goldandcoffee-brownandevenlittleglintsofbrightcrimson.Somanydisparatepiecesthatshouldn’tfittogether.Justlikehim.Justlikeme.
Anditwasthere,inhiseyes,thatIfoundthetruththatshouldhavebrokenme.
Yes,wecouldkilleachotherhere.Wewereofferingourselvestoeachother.
Butneitherofuswould.
“No,”Iwhispered.“I’mnotafraid.”
Ididn’tnoticemylipshadcurleduntilhisthumbmoved,tracingtheshapeofthatsmileasifitwassomethingworthyofreverence.
“Areyougoingtokillme,Oraya?”
Ididn’trun.Didn’tmove.Instead,Ilaymypalmflatagainsthischest.
IsurprisedevenmyselfwhenIreplied,“Nottonight.”
Hishandslidfrommyfaceandsweptastraystrandofblackhairfrommycheek,smoothingittotheside.Butinsteadofwithdrawing,hisfingerstightenedaroundmyhair—clutchingit,butnotpulling,asifhewastryingtoconvincehimselftoletmegoandfailing.
“Youmightdestroymeanyway.”
Isawithere,inthismoment.Want.Desire.
AndIknewwhatitwasforvampirestodesiresomeonelikeme.Iknewitsowellthatitshouldhavesentmerunning.
Butevenmorefrighteningthanhisdesirewasmine.Ifeltthatcallechoinginmyownpulse.Itwassostrongthatwhenhefinallyreleasedme—whenIfinallybackedawayfromhimandturnedawaywithoutanotherword—Ihadtoresisttheurgetolickhistouchfrommyfingertips.
Maybeitwouldtasteasmetallicandhotasblood.CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Afterthefeast,RaihnandIreturnedtothesameapartment.Itwasoutofhabit,atfirst.Thenwehadstoppedatthedoorandlookedateachother,bothclearlythinkingthesamething.Itwasunwiseforustoremaintogether.
“Mightbesafer,”Raihnsaid,atlast.“Forustosticktogether.Ifyouwantto.”
Itoldmyselfhewasright.Toldmyselfthat,foronemoreday,itwouldbegoodtokeephimclose.Protectionfromtheothers.Protectionfromhim,whereIcouldkeepaneyeonhim.
Allbullshit,ofcourse.AtleastIwasself-aware.
Ithrewopenthedoor.“Ifyou’reafraidtosleepaloneinanemptyapartment,youcanjustsayso,”I’dsaid,andthatwasthelastwespokeofit.
Thetruthwas,Iwantedtostay.Thethoughtofleavinghimtogobebymyselfmadealonelyachethrobinmychest.AndIsawthatacheinhim,too,whenIwatchedhimpackuptherestofMische’sthingsthatnight,puttingawaythebloodstainedsheetsthatwehadn’thadtimetofoldupbeforetheHalfmoon,tuckingawaythebagshehadleftbehind.
Whenhewasdone,Istayedtherewithhiminthesittingroominsteadofreturningtomybedchamber,remaininginwordlesscompany.
Itwasworthsomethingtoknowyouweren’talone.AndIthinkhefeltitjustasIdid,becausehedidn’tleave,either.Wesleptthatdaysprawledoutovercouchesandarmchairs,butneitherofusutteredasinglewordofcomplaintwhenwewokeuptoasymphonyofachesandpains.
Ididn’tkillhimthenextnight,either.
Orthenightafterthat.
Ididn’tkillhimduringanyofthecountless,meticulouslytrackedmomentswhenhelefthimselfunguarded.
Ididn’tevenkillhimwhen,thenextday,Iwalkedbyhisbedchamberdoortofindthat,inastunningdisplayofeithertrustorstupidity,hehadleftitslightlyajar.
Ipeeredthroughtoseehimsprawledoutinbed,bodyilluminatedbythefaintflickeroflanternlightfromthehallandthesliverofdaylightthatslippedbetweenthegapsinthecurtains—distinctwarmandcoolshadeshighlightingeveryhollowandrippleofbaremuscle.Hesleptwitheverylimbsprawledinadifferentdirection,andyetitstillmanagedtolooksomewhatpoetic,likeamaster’ssculpture—albeitonethatsnoredloudly.
IwasstruckbyhowmuchitremindedmeofthepaintinginthegreathallofVincent’scastle.ThatoneRishan,falling,reaching.Morebeautifulnowthantragic.
Itisperfecttiming,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.IfIwasgoingtokillhim,nowwouldbethetimetodoit.
Hewasfastasleep.Icouldthrowopentheblinds.CouldletallthatsunlightkeephimfromretaliatingasIcrawledoverthatbeautifulnakedbody,grippedhishipswithmyknees,andplungedmyswordintohischest.Thesheetswouldbesoakedbythetimeweweredone.
Iimaginedmyselfdoingit—imaginedcrossingtheroom,pullingmyselfontopofhim.Iimaginedthewayhisbarebodywouldlookbeneathme,historsostretchedoutandhishairmessyaroundhisface—imaginedthewayitwouldfeel,hardandpowerful,likelimitlesspotentialencasedinskin,firmalongtheinsideofmythighs,alongtheapexofmycore.
Iimaginedliftingmyblade—
ButbeforeIcouldbringitdown,hiseyessnappedopen.Hishands,roughandcalloused,ranupmythigh,mywaist,mybreast,afamiliarcurvetohismouthashemurmured,“Areyougoingtokillme,princess?”
Andhedidn’twaitforananswerbefore—
Ijerkedawake,myfacehot,sweatplasteringmyhairtomyskin.Ittookalongtimeformyheartbeattoslow.WhenIgotoutofbedandpeeredthroughmydoortoseehisopen,Igazedathimforafewlongmoments,thenwalkedaway.
No,Ididn’tkillhimthatday,either.
Threedayspassed,andRaihnandIdidn’ttalkaboutleaving,andwedidn’tkilleachother,andIrealizedthatIdidn’twanttokillhimatall.
***
Raihnwascooking.
I’lladmitit:Ihadbeenvery,veryskepticalwhenMischehadsaidthatRaihnwas“averygoodcook.”ThethoughtofRaihn,hulkingandbattle-scarred,leaningoverastoveseemedridiculous.Well,itlookedjustasridiculousasIimagined.
Butitdidsmellfantastic.
Ididn’tknowwhathewasmaking,onlythathe’dassembleditfromacollectionofingredientshe’dhauledbackfromtowninaburlapbag,andthathemanagedtoconstructtheentiremealusingasingledentedpotinthefireplace.
“Comehere.”Hebeckonedtomefromthenextroom,whereIpracticedmystillwoefullyinconsistentmagicandtriedtopretendthatIwasn’tpayinganyattentiontohim.
Idid,andheheldoutawoodenspoon.“Ineedyourhelp.Taste.”
Ieyedthespoon.Itlookedlikesomekindofstew,withchunksofvegetablesandliberallyappliedspicessuspendedinathick,creamy-brownsauce.Iloweredmyheadandtastedit.
Fuck.
Mykneesalmostgaveout.WhateverwordsIwasabouttosaycollapsedintoajumbleonmytongue,meltingbeneaththe—the—Mother,thereweren’twordsfortheflavors.I’dnevertastedanythingsogood.
WhenIfinallycamebacktomysenses,IblinkedandlookedatRaihn,whowaswatchingmewithastrange,bemusedexpression.
“Thatwasn’thowI’dimaginedmakingyoucomeforthefirsttime,”heremarked.
Istoppedchewing.
Raihndidn’tsayanything,buttheflinchoverhisfaceasheturnedawaytoldmehe,too,heardthathisjokeimpliedmorethanhehadintended.
Imagined.
Firsttime.
Theairwentheavy.Iwipedabitofstewfromthecornerofmymouth.
“Ididn’tbelieveMischewhenshetoldmeyouwereagoodcook.”Ispokeverycasually.“But…it’snotawful.”
Itwasenoughtobreakthetension—oratleastenoughtomakeusbothpretendithad.
“It’safuckingtravestythatyougrewupeatingvampirefood.Vampiresdon’tknowhowtocook.”
“Youdo.”
“Onlybecauseit’sdeartomyheart.Noneofittastesthesameanymore.”
Right.Vampiresneverstoppedeatingfood,buttheirtasteswereverydifferentthanhumans’.I’dneverstoppedtothinkaboutwhatthatmightbelikeforTurnedvampires.
“Itchangedovertime?”Iasked,andhenoddedasheremovedthepotfromthefireandplaceditonthetable.
“Slowly,overtheyears.This?Thistastesveryblandtome,now.ButMischeisyoungerthanme,sohertastesaremorehuman.It’llbemorelikeitwasforyou.”
Myearsperked.“Mische?”Iglancedtothetable—tothelittlecoveredpotwaitingforthestew.“ThisisforMische?”
“Ifiguredsheearnedit.”
“You’regoingtoseeher?”
“Iam.Ifyoudon’tmindmesacrificingonetrainingday.”
Ididn’tthinkaboutthefactthathesoeasilyassumedwewouldstilltraintogether.
Instead,IwasthinkingaboutMische—Mische,andherbrightsmilesandeasylaughs,andthewayshe’dtreatedmelikeIwasanactualfriend.Theimagewassodifferentthanhowshehadlookedwhenshewastakenaway,justashellofherself.
Itouchedmywrist—thebandagefromthestill-not-quite-healedbitefromtheMinistaer—withoutintendingto.
IttookalongmomentformetorecognizethatthefeelingIwasstrugglingtoputintowordswasconcern.
“CanIcome?”
IblurteditoutbeforeIcouldstopmyself.
Raihn,whosebackwastomeagain,pausedlongenoughthatawaveofuncertaintyfloodedthroughme.Ofcoursehewouldn’twanttotakeme,anenemyineverysenseofthewordthatmattered,toseeMischeoutsidetheboundsoftheMoonPalace.Hell,ifsheevenwantedtoseemeatall.
ButwhenRaihnturnedaround,hewassmiling—no,grinning.
Hesaidsimply,“She’dlikethat.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
IwassurprisedthatRaihncouldalreadyfly.Vampireshealedveryquickly,andthewoundsonhisbackhadbecomescabbedoverandbumpywithfreshpinkscartissue.Still,Ihadthoughthewasweeksawayfrombeingabletousehiswings.Heinsistedhewasfine,butIdidn’tmissthewincewhenheconjuredthem,northewayhiswholebodyseizedupwhenhelaunchedusintothesky.
“Youalright?”Iasked,afterawhile.
“Perfect,”hereplied,likehedidn’tevenknowwhyIwasasking.
Weflewforalong,longtime—hours.ThefirsttimeRaihnhadflownwithme,theattackhadovershadowedallbutthefaintestglimmerofthejoyofit.Now,withnothingelsetodistractme,Icouldn’thelpbutrevelinit.Ilovedhowfastwemoved,theweightlessness,thefreedom.Ilovedthewaythelandscapespreadoutbeneathus,theworldthathadtrappedmenowreducedtonothingbutinconsequentialminiaturefigurines.Ilovedthewaytheairsmelled,thewayitrushedaroundmyface.
Ilovedeverythingaboutit.
IfeltRaihnshift—feltthewarmthofhisbreathagainstmycheek.Iglancedbackathimtoseehimtwistinghisheadtolookatme.Itputourfacesveryclose,hisnoseonlyafewinchesfrommine.
Hiseyessparkledwithamusement.“You’regrinninglikealittlechild.”
Iscowled,andhechuckled.“Oh,nevermind.Theresheis.”
Irolledmyeyesandlookedbacktothelandscapebelow.Wehadflownbeyondtheinnercity,nowouttothesprawlingsettlementsinthedunes.
“Youenjoyflying,”hesaid.
Icouldn’teventrytodenyit.“Ido.”
Understatement.Mother,ifIhadthosewings,you’dhavetodragmedown.
“That’sunusual,”hesaid.“Mostwhocan’tflyhateitthefirstfewtimes.”
“Youcarryaroundalotofwinglesswomen?”
“Afew.Mostofthemvomitedonme.”
“Stillcouldhappen.Don’tletyourguarddown.”
“Ifiguredyourstomachisprobablyasstrongasyourwill.”
Icranedmynecktoeyehim.“Andhowstrongisthat?”
Hegrinnedandleanedcloseashesaidintomyear,“Purefuckingsteel.Obviously.”
Obviously.
***
Welandedatafarmstead.ThesettlementwasbeyondeventhefarthestreachesofSivrinaj,outbeyondthedunes.Wehadpassedalittletownshipnotfarfromhere,butthehousethatRaihnbroughtustowaslongpastthenearestpopulatedstreet.Itwasasmallbutfinebuilding,craftedofsandy-graybrick.Grassspreadoutinalldirections,creamygoldevenbeneaththecoldmoonlight.Totheleft,horsesgrazed.Totheright,pasturesheldsheep,goats,andonemulethattrottedovertoinspectuswithobvioustrepidation.
WhenRaihnsetmedown,Inearlycollapsed.Mykneeswerewobblyanduncooperative.ButIpaidmoreattentiontoRaihn’swinceashespiritedhiswingsaway
Hecaughtmewatchinghim.
“Stopitwiththatface,princess.”
“I’mnotmakingaface.”
Heheavedalong-sufferingsigh.“Areyoureallynotawarethatyouarealwaysmakingaface?”
HestrodetothedoorandIfollowed,suddenlyveryconsciousofmyfacialmuscles.Hewaswrong.Iwasdefinitelynotalwaysmakingaface.
Thedooropened.Atall,slendermanwithamopofstrawberry-goldhairstoodthere,revealingsharpcanineswithabroadgrin.“Raihn!Whatanicesurprise.Mischewillbeelated.And—”
Hiseyes,blueasthesky,felltomeoverRaihn’sshoulder.Thesmileshiftedashesteppedasidetoletusin—shiftedintosomethingsurprisedandnotaltogetherfriendly.
“Oh.Well.Thisis…IthinkIknowwhoyouare.”
Whatagreeting.Ididn’tlikehistone.
Raihnshookhisheadandtouchedmyback.“Terrifichospitality,asalways,”hegrumbled,andmaybeIimaginedthereassuringstrokeofhisfingertipsasheledmeinside.
Theinteriorofthehousematchedtheexterior—simple,butclean.Well-made,butnotornate.Awomanwithash-brownhairboundinasweepingknotatopherheadapproachedthroughthedoortowhatlookedlikeakitchen,thenstoppedshort.
“Oraya,”Raihnsaid,“thisisCairis.”Hegesturedtotheblondman,whowavedwithahesitantsmile.Thenhemotionedtothebrunette.“AndthisisKetura.”
Heofferednofurtherexplanationofwhotheywereorwhathisrelationshipwastothem.
Keturadidn’tmoveorspeak.Didn’tevenblink.
“Where’sMische?”Raihnsaid.“Upstairs?”
Hewasalreadyonhiswayup,hishandonmyarm,puttingmebeforehim.Allsoverycasual,butIknewwhathewasdoing.GrowingupwithVincent,Iwasveryfamiliarwithwhatprotectionlookedlike.
“Secondroomtotheright,”Cairiscalledafterus,butneitherfollowed.
Thedoorwasslightlyajar.Raihnknocked,thenpusheditopen.Mischewasinbed,surroundedbyfluffywhitesheetsandblankets,gazingoutthewindowwithanuntouchedbookonherlap.
WhenshesawRaihn,herfacelitupwithaneffervescentgrin.Shesatupquickly,likeshewaspreparingtolaunchherselfoutofbed.Raihntooktwoquickstepscloser,asifhesawthesamethingIdidandwaspreparingtocatchherbeforesheaccidentallyhurledherselftotheground.
“Don’tyoudare—”hestarted,buttheminutehewaswithinreach,sheleaptupandthrewherarmsaroundhisnecksoforcefullyheletoutanoof
Hegrumbledsomethingunconvincinglydisapprovinganddidn’tpullaway.Shefinallyreleasedhim,andwhensheturnedtome,hersmilesomehowmanagedtogetwider.
Thelastremnantsofmyuncertaintydisappeared.Shejustlookedsohappy
Irubbedmywristwithoutmeaningto.
Mischelookedlikeshewasabouttojumpuptohugme,too,butthatwasasteptoofarforme.Isettledinsteadforanawkwardwave.
“Feelingbetter?”
“Well,Iamnow!”shebreathed.
Whileshewasclearlystillinsomepain,bubblyenthusiasmimbuedhereveryword.RaihnandIsatattheedgeofherbedwhileshetoldusallabouthertimehere—aboutCairis’sdailycardgamesandKetura’slessonsingardening,aboutthenamesshehadgivenallthechickens,aboutthewayshewassure,totallysure,shewasslowlywinningovertheheartofthecrankymuleoutinthepasture.
“Ihavenodoubts,”Raihnsaid,atthat,andItriednottobeoffendedwhenhegavemeasly,pointedsmirk.“Youseemtobegoodatwinningtheheartsofill-temperedcreatures.”
Goddess.Andtothinkhe’dactuallycomplimentedmejustanhourago.
MischeaskedusamillionquestionsabouttheHalfmoontrial,too,towhichIgavestiltedanswersthatRaihnenhancedwithfarmoreanimatedinterjections.Hereyesgotwiderwitheverysentence.
“Godsabove,”shegasped,whenwereachedtheend.“Thatshymagicofyourscamethroughforyou!Itoldyou!Itwasinyou.”
IwonderedifIimaginedthelittletwitchofsadness,hastilyhidden,whenshesaidthat.Mygazelingeredontheburnscarspeekingbeneathhersleeve.
Ishrugged.“Itwasluck.”
“No,itwasincredible,”Raihnsaid,asIavoidedhisgaze.
WesatwithMischeforalongtime,conversationwanderingpastthetrialsandtootherfrivolities.Ididn’tspeakmuch,leavingittoMischeandRaihn,whichwasfinewithme.Evenafterhavinglivedwiththem,Iwasstruckalloveragainbytheeasywarmthoftheirinteractions.Twopeoplewhowereutterlycomfortablewitheachother.
Eventually,Raihnlookedoutthewindowtothesky.“Gettinglate,”hesaid,soundingalittledejected.“Weshouldgo.It’lltakeawhiletogetback.”
Herose,andthistime,hedidn’tgiveMischeachancetothrowherselfathimbeforehesweptherupinanembrace,holdinghertight.
“Getbetter,alright?”
“Alright,”shesaidintohisshoulder.“Besafe.Kicktheirasses.”
“Youknowit.”
Ishiftedawkwardly,avertingmygaze.ItseemedlikethekindofmomentIshouldn’tintrudeon.
ThenRaihnpulledaway,kissedheronthetopofherhead,andbidheronemoregoodbyebeforegoingtothedoor.IchokedoutanuncomfortablegoodbyeofmyownandwenttofollowhimwhenMischesaid,“Oraya.”
Iturned.
“Youtoo,”shesaidsoftly.“Takecareofyourself,alright?Staysafe.”
Guilttwingedinmychest—becauseIhadjustwatchedRaihnmakethesamepromisetoher,andsoon,thetwoofuscouldnotbothkeepit.Watchinghimwithher,itwashardnottowonderifperhapshedeserveditmore.
“Ofcourse,”Isaid.
“Thankyouforcoming.It…reallymeantalottome.”Shegaveatinysmile.“Itmeantalottohim,too.”
Sheheldoutherhand.Itwasn’tahug—maybesheknewthatwouldbeasteptoofarforme.Still,Ifoundmyselfreachingback.Herfingerswerewarmforavampire,hertouchsoftandgentle.Shesqueezedmyhand.
Alumproseinmythroat.
“Ihopeyoufeelbettersoon,”Isaid.“I’mjust…I’mgladyoumadeitout.”
“Metoo.”
Shereleasedme,gavemealittlewave,andIclosedherdoorbehindme.WhenIreachedthetopofthestairs,Ipaused.Hushedvoicesrosefrombelow.Seriousvoices.
Icouldn’thelpmyself.ItoldmyselfIwasn’teavesdropping,exactly.Iwasjust…failingtoannouncemyself.
Imovedvery,veryslowlydownthesteps,stayingneartothewalltokeepthemfromcreakingundermyweight.Istoppedjustoutofviewofthedoortothediningroom.IcouldjustglimpsetheshapeofRaihn’sshoulderattheedgeofthedoorframe.
“Valeisonhiswaynow,”Cairiswassaying.“Evenbringinghisnewwife,ifyoucanimaginethat.”
Hesoundedlikeagossipinghousewife.
“Wife?”Raihnseemedsurprised.“FromDhera?Who—”
“Human.Orwas,atleast.”
Cairissaiditinatoneofvoicethatimpliedapointedlookandalongsipoftea.
Alongsilence.IcouldbarelyseeRaihn,andyetIknewhestiffenedatthat.Hisdisapprovalwaftedthickassmoke.
“Interesting,”hesaiddryly.
“Interesting,indeed,”Cairischirped.“Don’tyouthinkso,Ketura?”
Silence.
Then,soquietlyIbarelycouldhearit,“Sheshouldnotbehere.”
“She’safriend,”Raihnsaid.
“No,sheisn’t.”
“Sheisafriend,Ketura,andyouneedtorememberthat.”
Mybrowtwitched.ThatwassomethingI’dneverquiteheardinRaihn’svoicebefore—command.
“Doyouknowwhathe’sdoingoutthererightnow?”Keturahissed.“Youshouldseeit,Raihn.Whathe’sdonetoGenraandIsca.Youshouldseehowmanypeoplehe’skilled.”
Mymouthwentdry.GenraandIsca—Rishancities.OnewasevenclosetothedistrictIhadbeenbornin,Salinae.Theonethatmightstillholdsomeofmybloodline,ifanyonefrommyoldlifehadsurvivedthenightVincenthadfoundme.
CairisandKeturawereRishan,then.Ididn’tneedtoseetheirwingstoknowitfromthewaytheyspoke.
“I’maware.”
“Andyetyoustillwalkthroughthatdoorwithher?BringingVincent’shumanwhoreto—”
“Donot,”Raihnsaidsharply,“speakaboutherthatway.”
Immediatesilence.
“Iapologize.”Shedidnotsoundverysorryatall.
Itookonemorestep,andthefloorboardgroaned,givingawaymypresence.Allthreesetsofeyesturnedtome:Raihn’spleasantlycasual,Cairis’sblatantlycurious,andKetura’srazor-edged.
Iclearedmythroatandhurrieddowntherestofthestairs.
“Weneedtogetback,”Raihnsaidtome.“Makesurewedon’tgetstuckonthewrongsideoftheMoonPalacewhendawncomes.”
Then,toKeturaandCairis,“GiveMischethefood.I’llbebacksometimesoon.”Andheofferednothingelsebeforeheusheredmeoutthedoor,scoopedmeupinhisarms,andlaunchedbothofusintothesky.
Weflewinsilenceforsometime.
“Youwerelisteningtoallofthat,weren’tyou?”hesaid,atlast.
Ofcourseheknew.Ididn’tbotherdenyingit.“Youmadeiteasy.”
“Keturaisworriedandangry.Likemanypeopleare,rightnow.Soshe’sabit…sensitive.”
Hesoundedlikehewaschoosinghiswordsverydeliberately.
“IfIgotallupsetaboutbeingcalledVincent’spet,orwhore,orwhateverelsetheywanttocallme,I’dhavenoonetoblameforitbutmyself.Hell,youcalledmethat.”
Raihnwasquietforalongmoment.Webothknewhecouldn’targue.
“Ketura’swifeisinSalinae,”hesaid.“She’sscaredforher.Theseareuncertaintimes.”
Salinae.Thementionofthenamemademychestache—sympathy,followedbysomethingmorebitter.
I,too,worriedforSalinae.
“I’mfromthere,”Isaid.“Salinae.”
“Youare?”
“That’swhereVincentfoundme.Inthehumandistrictsthere.Itwaswhenhewasputtingdownarebellion.I’dlike…”Ipaused.I’dnevervoicedthisaloudbefore.NottoanyoneotherthanVincent.NotevenIlanagotthisnaive,fragilelittledreamofmine.
Irubbedtheringonmylittlefinger.
“I’dliketogobackoneday,”Isaid.“Seeifanyonethatknewmethenisstillthere.Family,or…whoever.Idon’tknow.”
Amomentarysilence.Icouldn’tbringmyselftolookathim.“What?”Isaid.“Youthinkit’safairytale?”
Fairytale.JustlikeIhadsaidabouthishopesforthelittlegirlhehadsaved,theonewhoremindedmesomuchofmyself.
“No,”hesaid.“Ithinkwhateverfamilyyouhaveleftwouldbedamnedluckytohaveyou.”
Mycheekstightened.ButIshruggedawayfromtheuncomfortablecompliment.
“Whoarethey?”Iasked,changingthesubject.“CairisandKetura?”
“Friends,”hesaid.
Icranedmynecktogivehimaskepticallook,whichhemusthavefelt,becausehereturnedit.“What?”
Theyweren’t“friends.”Iknewthatrightaway.AtfirstIwasn’tsurewhy,untilIrealizedthatInowknewwhatRaihnlookedlikewheninteractingwithpeopleheconsideredfriends.Mische.Even…even,maybe,me.
Atmyflatstare,hechuckled.
“Alright,fine.They’re…maybeabettertermwouldbeoldcolleagues.Iwouldn’twanttodrinkabeerwiththem,butIdotrustthem.”
That,Ibelieved.Icouldn’timaginehimsendingMischeoffinsuchavulnerablestatetoanyonehedidn’ttrustabsolutely.
Still…colleagues.Wasthattherightword?Keturahadapologizedsoquickly,evenwhensheclearlywasbegrudgingit.
“Didyoucommandthem?”
Raihnseemedabitstartledbythat,andIfounditsatisfying.ItwasnicethatIcouldstillsurprisehimthewayhecontinuedtosurpriseme.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Idid.You’regood,princess.”
“When?”
“Longtimeago.Wewere…ah…privateguardsofasort.”
Nowthatwasaninterestingthought.Iknewmanyvampirelordswhohadtheirownpersonalmilitaryforces.Theywenteverywheretrailedbyaseriesofstone-faced,hulkingwarriors.IcouldhardlyimagineRaihnasoneofthem.Theyweresoblanklygeneric,andhewasso…not.
“Ofasort?”Ipressed.
“ClosesttermIhaveforit,”hereplied,inawaythatshutdownanyfurtherquestioning.
Welapsedintosilence.Iwatchedthedunesandtinytownsrollbybeneathus,glisteningsilverunderthecaressofthemoon.
Eventually,Raihnsaid,unprompted,“Idon’tthinkthataboutyouanymore.”
“Hm?”
“Thatyou’reVincent’spet,orwhore,orwhatever.MaybeIdidinthebeginning,butnotanymore.Ijust…Iwantyoutoknowthat.”
Mythroatthickenedabit.
Suchastupidthing,yetitwasoddlyvalidating—oddlycomforting—tobedefinedbysomethingotherthanmyrelationshiptoVincent.AndIknew,forbetterorworse,thatRaihnmeantwhathesaid.
“Youwantmetothankyoufornotcallingmeawhore?”Isaidflatly.
Hescoffedandshookhishead.“Fuckyou,too,Oraya.Ix’stits.Itrytosayanicething.”
“Socharming.”
“Iwon’tdoitagain,Ipromise.”
Imadeashowofrollingmyeyes.Butasourconversationfaded,InestledalittledeeperintoRaihn’sembrace.CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Thenextnight,thedoorstotheMoonPalacewerelockedfromtheoutside.
Vincentwastraveling,soinlieuofhisgifts,Ihadintendedtogooutintothecitytofindsomeextrapoisonformyblades,justincase.ButwhenIattemptedtoleave,thefrontdoordidnotsomuchasrattle.SoItriedanother,andanother.Nodoorwouldopen.Nowindow,either.
WhenIreturnedtotheapartmentsosoonafterleaving,Raihn,whowascleaninghissword,gavemeaquestioninglook.
“Everything’slocked,”Isaid.“Doors.Windows.”
Hisfacehardened.Thenhesheathedhisswordandlefttheapartment.Hereturnedafewminuteslaterwithasinglecarafeandabasketoffruitandbread.
“Feasthall’sempty,”hesaid,“exceptforthis.”
Thebreadandfruit,pluswhatwehadstoredinthisapartment,wouldatleastbeenoughtogetmeby.Buttheblood?Thecarafeheldlessthanasingleglass.
HeandIexchangedaglance,clearlythinkingthesamething.IftheMoonPalacehadlockedusin,itmeantthatitintendedtostarveus.Andstarvationwasterrifyingtobothofusforverydifferentreasons.
“Youhavemore,right?”Isaid,noddingtothecarafe.HeandMischehadbeenhoardingbloodsincethebeginningofthetournament,but…Iwasn’tsurehowmuchofithadsurvivedtheattack.
“Enough,”hesaidtightly.“Welostsomeofitinthefirebut…Ihaveenough.IfIration.”
Myshouldersloweredinrelief.AtleastifRaihnhadenoughbloodtogethimby,Iwouldn’tbelockedupinanapartmentwithapredator.Still,beingconfinedtoacastlewithnearlyadozenmoreofthemdidn’tfeelmuchbetter.
Mostofthetrialswereheldinequalintervals,exactlythreeweeksapart.ButtheCrescenttrialwassometimes—notalways—anexception.Someyearsitwasalongertrial,spanningseveraldays,andoccasionallyheldatalocationoutsidethecolosseum.
IfNyaxiawasgoingtostarveusuntiltheCrescent,thatcouldbeaslongasthreeweeks,oraslittleasone.Eitherwasdangerous.Someofthevampiresherehadnothadanybloodsincethefeastfourdaysago.
Raihnmovedadresserinfrontofthedoorthatnight.
***
Thedoorsandwindowsdidn’tunlock.Thefooddidnotreplenish.Therewasnomoreblood.
Onthefifthday,ingrowingdesperation,oneoftheHiajcontestantstriedtoflyuptothetopofthetowerandsmashthroughanupperwindow.Theglassshattered,butthemomentheattemptedtoflythrough,hewascastbacktothegroundwitharaggedshriekofpain.Hisentirebodyhadbeencutupasifbyathousandminusculerazorblades,shreddinghisskinandhiswings.RaihnandIwatchedfromadistance,butevenfromacrossthehallitwasclearhe’ddie,whetheritbeofbloodlossorstarvation.Abreezeflowedgentlythroughthatopenwindow.Itrevealednothingbutthesky,theMoonPalacehidingitsdeadlinessininnocence.
Noonetriedtobreakthewindowsagain.
Notevenasthehungergotworse.
***
Anotherweekpassed.
Istoppedleavingtheapartment.Thevampireswhohadn’tbeenabletogetanybloodrightbeforethesupplydisappearedwouldnowbeexperiencingintensehunger—notenoughtokillthem,notyet,butenoughtodrivethemtodesperation.
First,westartedhearingfootstepspacingthehalloutsidetheapartmentdooratnight.Thentheycontinuedduringthedaylighthoursashungerledtheinstinctualdesireforfoodtooutweighaversiontoburning.Theyprobablydidn’tevenknowtheyweredoingit.Iftheywerestarving,theirlegswouldjusttakethemtowherevertheysensedthegreatestpotentialtofeed.AndIhadbeencarefultohealallmywoundsfromthelasttrial,butIstillprobablysmelleddelicious.
Throughallofthis,RaihnandIsomehowmanagedtomaintainourlittlebubbleofnormalcy.Wetrainedtogetherintheearlynights,thenhewouldhelpmepracticemywoefullyunpredictablemagiclater.Wespentthepre-dawnhourscurledupinthesittingroom,andeverydayIwatchedhimlingeratthecurtains,peeringatthehorizonuntilthesunleftlittleangryclawmarksonhisskin.
Oneday,whenRaihnwasasleep,Ihadanidea.Ipulledthehugemirrorfrommybedchamberoutintothesittingroom,proppingitupabitprecariouslyagainstthecouch.Ieyedit,fussedwiththecurtains,checkedmyanglesandthencheckedthemagain.WhenRaihnwokeupatsundownandcameouttoseethemessI’dmadeofthelivingroom,hehalted.
“Oh,”hesaid.“Well,itfinallyhappened.You’velostyourmind.”
Iscoffedandofferednoexplanation.Notuntiltheendofthenight,whenthesunbegantoriseandRaihnwenttotakehisusualspotnearthecurtains.Then,Icalledhimbackintothelivingroom.
“Watch,”Isaid,pointingtothemirror.AndthenIwentintomybedchamberandthrewopenthedrapes.
Heflinched,shrinkingback.Butthesharpcornerofthehallshieldedhimfromtheraysofsunlight—whilethemirrorstillofferedhimafullviewofthesky.
“Itestedit,”Isaid.“Aslongasyoustaybackhere,evenathighnoon,thelightwon’tfloodintothisroom.Butyoucanstillseethesuninthemirror.It’s…it’sniceinthemiddleoftheday.Thesunreflectsoffthechurchspires.”
Isaiditsocasually,asifIhadn’tspenthoursperfectingtheplacementofthatmirror,makingsureitframedeverythingIfoundsobeautifulaboutthesleepingcityindaylight,thewaynoonebutmecouldseeit.Untilnow.
Raihnwasquietforalongtime.
“Careful,princess,”hesaidatlast,hisvoicerough.“Someonemightthinkyou’reactuallynice.”
Buthiswordsmatteredsomuchlessthanthepersistenttugofthesmileacrosshislips.Andeverydayafterthat,hedraggedachairtothatturnofthehallway,andhewatchedthesunriseandfalloverSivrinajasifitwasthemostpreciousgiftintheworld.
Intimeslikethat,itwastooeasyformetoforgetthegrimrealityofoursituation.
Butthedarknessofitslippedthrough,anyway.
***
Onenight,inthethirdweek,Raihnwasonedge.Heseemedtense,hisusualsmooth,casualdemeanorreplacedwithperpetuallytappingfeetandgrindingteethandfingersthatwouldclench,unclench,clench,unclench,overandover.Everymuscleinhisexpressionwastight.
“What’swrongwithyou?”Iasked,eventually,whenhewassodistractedwhiletrainingthathenearlyletmetakehisheadoffwithNightfire.
“Nothing,”hesnapped.
“That’sconvincing.”
Hedidn’tevenhavearetort,whichmayhavebeenthemostworryingthingofall.
Heexcusedhimselffromourtraining,andIdidn’targue.Iwasn’tabouttoshowhimthatIwasworriedabouthim,butIalsocouldn’tshakethenaggingknotofanxiety.WhenIheardfootstepsinthecommonroom,Icreptsilentlyfrommyroomandpeeredathimaroundthecorner.
Hewasstandingatthediningtable,aglassinhishand.Ithoughtitwasemptyatfirst,thenrealized,asheliftedit,thatitheldjustatiny,tinypoolofblood—barelyenoughtocoverthebottom.
Raihngazedatitlikehewassayinggoodbyetoaloverbeforethrowingitback,savoring,andthenswallowing.
Everythingwentnumbandcold.Theexpressiononhisface…thewayhestareddownattheemptyglassnow…ittoldmeallIneededtoknow.Ifeltlikeafool.
“So,”Isaid,emergingfromthehallway.“That’sit,isn’tit?”
“Hm?”
Mother.Iwassofuckingstupid.Raihnwassofargonethathedidn’tevenhaveitinhimtoconvincinglyfeignignorance.Ithrustmypalmtotheemptyglass,stillinhishand.“Youtoldmeyouhadenough.”
“I—”Heavoidedmygaze.Swallowed.“Ididhaveenough.”
“Thatdoesn’tlooklikeenough.”
“TheCrescenttrialwillbehappeninganydaynow.It’sfine.I’mfine.”
Hesetdowntheglassalittletoohard,andacrackspiderwebbedupitsside.Ifhenoticed,hedidn’tshowit.Hisknuckleswerewhite.
Somethingaboutthatsound—thesoundoftheglasscracking—crackedsomethingopeninme,too.Allatonce,allthosesignsofhungerthatIhadn’twantedtoseestruckme.Itwaseverywhere.HowhadInotnoticed?WheneverIaskedifhehadenough,hetoldmehedid.AndIhadtakenhimathiswordwithoutevenquestioningit.
Raihnwashungry,andnotonlyhungry,butonthevergeofstarving.
AndIhadbarricadedmyselfinaroomwithhim.
Whyhaditbeensohardformetoconfronttherealityofthosetwothings?
Itwasn’tthatIwasafraidofhim.ItwasthatIwasn’t,andIshouldbe.Ishouldbe.Thatwasnature,andthatdidnotchangebecauseofwhateverImayhavecometofeel.
Youhavebeenmakingsomanymistakes,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.Ihadn’tnoticedhowlongithadbeensinceI’dheardhim.
“Ishouldgosomewhereelse,”Isaid.“Adifferentapartment.”
Ileveledmyvoice,butIhadtotryharderthanIexpected.AndIcouldtellthatRaihnhadtotryjustashardtokeephisfaceneutral,anddidn’tquitesucceed.Therewasaslighttwitchtothemuscleinhisjaw,likehehadtodampenaflinchfromablow.
Ifeltthatblow,too.LikeIhadjustslappedhimacrosstheface.
“Why?”hesaidtightly.
“Why?”Imotionedtotheemptyglass.Thecrackshadgrown.NowRaihn’sfistedgripwastheonlythingkeepingitfromshattering.“Raihn,don’tbea—”
“There’snoreasonto.”
Hewasnotgoingtomakemesaythis.Hecouldn’tpossiblybesonaive.
“Yes,thereis.Youknowthereis.”
“Itoldyouthat—”Hepaused.Tookabreath.Letitout.“Ihopeyouknowbynowthatyoudon’thavetoworryaboutthat.”
“Ialwayshavetoworry.”
Youareneversafe,Vincentwhispered.
“Notwithme.”
“Evenwithyou.”
Especiallywithyou,becauseyoumakemefeelatease.
Andthistime,hedidactuallyflinch.Theglassshattered.
“Aftereverything,you’restillafraidofme?I’mnotafuckinganimal,Oraya,”hesaid,wordssolowandroughthattheydid,indeed,resembleagrowl.“Givemealittlemorecreditthanthat.”
Somethinghardenedinmyheart,proddedbythehurtIfeltonhisbehalf.
“Youaren’tananimal,”Isaid.“Butyouareavampire.”
“Iwouldn’thurtyou,”hesnapped.
No.Thatwasalie.Itwasaliethelasttimesomeonehadsaidittome.ItwasalieevenifRaihncompletelybelieveditwasthetruth—andifhedid,maybehewasmoreofafoolthanIrealized.
Hell,maybeIwas,too.
WewerefinalistsintheKejari.Wewouldneedtohurteachother.Andthatwasevenifwemadeitthatfar.
“Whatareyousooffendedby?”Ishotback.“ThatI’mstatingtheobviousaloud?Youareavampire.Iamhuman.Maybewedon’tliketosaythosethings,butthey’retrue.Lookatyourself.YouthinkIdon’tseerightfuckingthroughyou?”
Iwasupset.Myheartbeathadquickened.Amusclefeatheredinhischeek.Hisnostrilsflared.Evennow,Icouldseeit.Thehungerlingeringbeneaththehurt.
“Ourdreamworldisnice,butit’snotreal,”Isaid.“AndIdon’twanttobewokenupfromitbyyoutearingopenmythroat.”
Iregrettedmywordsimmediately.ButIregrettedthembecausetheywerecruel,andbecausetheterrible,childlikehurtonRaihn’sfacemademysoulache.
Ididn’tregretthembecausetheyweren’ttrue.Theywere.
Didhethinkhewastheonlyonewhowantedtopretendotherwise?Inthismoment,Iwantednothingmorethantolivemyentirelifethewaywehadbeenovertheselastfewweeks.Buildingsomethinglikeahomeinthisshitty,darkPalace
IwanteditsomuchthatIeven…evenconsideredifImightbeabletohelphim.Eventhoughitwasafoolishthought.Eventhoughahumanofferingthemselvestoavampiredeprivedoffoodforthislongwouldmeannear-certaindeath,nomatterhowgoodtheirintentionswere.Andyet,whenIsawthatlookonhisface,thatdesperation,Iwaswillingtoconsiderit.
Stupid,naive,childish.
ButRaihnhadalreadybackedup,hisbackstraight,knuckleswhiteathissides.Hehadtakenseveralstepsaway,asif,eveninhisanger,herecognizedthatIneededhimtoputmorespacebetweenus.
“Fine,”hesaidcoldly.“You’reright.We’vebeenstupid.Ifyouwantmegone,I’mgone.Youshouldn’tbeanywherenearthathallway.I’llgo.”
Ialreadywantedtotakeitback.Thefamiliargripoffearhadbeguntotightenaroundmyheart.NotfearofRaihn,butfearofbeingwithouthim,andthethingsImightfeeloncehewasgone.
“Alright,”Isaid,againsteveryinstinct.
Neitherofusseemedtoknowwhatelsetosay.
Sohewenttohisroom,gatheredhisbelongings,pushedasidethebureauinfrontofthedoorjustenoughtoslipthrough,andthenturnedtome.
Amillionwordshungthere.
Hejustsaid,“PushthisbackwhenI’mgone.I—”
Hebitdownonwhateverhewasabouttosay.
Iknewthatfeeling,becauseIfoundmyselfdoingit,too.Swallowingdown,Don’tgo’sandI’llmissyou’sandI’msorry’s.
Thisisfuckingsilly,Itoldmyself.He’sjustgoingtoadifferentroom,andit’stheonlythingthatmakessense.
ButIknew—webothknew—thatonceRaihnleft,oncehebecamejustanothercontestantintheKejari,somethingwillhavechangedbetweenusirreparably.
“I—”Hetriedagain,gaveup,andsaid,“I’llseeyouatthenexttrial.”
AndhewasgonebeforeIcouldsayanotherword.CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Thatnight,forthefirsttimeinalongtime,Idreamedofthemoonabsentfromthesky.
Thebed,ricketyandcheapasitwas,wasstillenormouscomparedtomytinybody.Inestleddeepunderthecovers,pullingthemuptomynose.JonaandLeesanwereasleep,orpretendingtobe.Mommawaswhisperinghurriedly—Getthatlanternoffrightnow,youknewthey’dcome,youknew—
Iwasscared,too.ButIthought,Ishouldneverbeafraid,andslippedfromthecovers.Iwalkedvery,verysoftlytothewindow.Iwasbarelytallenoughtoreachthesill.Igrippedthesplinteringwoodandpeeredintothesky.
OnceIsawadeadwormwithsomanyantsalloveritthatitturnedintoonebigwigglingmassofblack.Nowtheskylookedlikethat.Justapulsatingblanketofdarkness.
Exceptitwasn’tantsinthesky.Itwaswings.
Oraya!
Mymommasaidmynameinthatwayshedidwhenshewasfrightened.
Oraya,getawayfrom—!
***
Theairhitmylungstoohard,likeagulpofsaltwater.Butworse,becauseitseemedlikeitwaseatingmefromtheinsideout.
Thecoughsseizedmyentirebody.IhadbarelygainedconsciousnessbeforeIwasonthevergeoflosingitagain,rollingoverontoallfoursasIconvulsed.Myeyesweredripping,mystomachaching,myvisionsoblurryIheard,morethansaw,thestringofvomitfalltotheground.Iblinkedrapidlyinapoorattempttoclearmyvision.
Iliftedmyhead.
NowonderI’ddreamedaboutthatnight,becausethisonelookedjustlikeit.Justwrithing,indistinctmovementinaspine-chillingmassofdarkness.
Treessurroundedme—tall,sparse,andnarrow,withonlyafewlongneedle-tippedbranchesneartheirtops.Thegroundbeneathmypalmswasroughandsandy.Rockspiledeverywhere.Allofit—thedirt,therocks,thetrees—wasblack,moonlitoutlinesrenderedontoshadesofdark-ashgray.Plumesofsmokerosefromtheground,hotandgritty.Whenagustofwindrolledapuffofitoverme,Igaspedinpainandshrankaway.Itburnedmyskinlikeacid.
Igrabbedmybladesandhadthemattheready.Movementpuncturedtheforest—toodistantformetomakeoutwhatIwasseeingatfirst,butthesoundwasunmistakable.Wet,heavybreathing,andhigh-pitchedshrieks,andthenauseatingsoundoffleshtearingopen.
Mymindwasaddled,maybefromthesmokeorfromwhatevermagichadbroughtushere,butIforcedmyselfthroughthehazetoputtogetherwhatwashappening.
ThiswastheCrescenttrial.Ithadtobe.Weweren’tinthecolosseum—weweren’teveninSivrinaj,atleastnotanypartofitthatI’dseen—butthetiminglinedup,andtheCrescenttrialwasoftenthemostunique.
Butwhatwastheobjective?
Footsteps.Iturned,andimmediately,somethingslammedintome,knockingmebacktothestones.Icouldn’tmakeoutthefaceofmyassailant—notwitheverythingsodarkandblurryandthesmokepumpingupfromtheground,eachpuffbubblingmyarmor.Istruckwildlywithmyblades,hittingflesh.
Normally,thepoisonwouldbeenoughtoatleastslowthem,butmyattackerseemedutterlyunconcernedwithpain.Bloodlust?SomeoftheworstI’deverseen,ifso,tobesodisconnectedfromone’sownbody.
Idrovemybladehardintomyattacker’sside,andthat,finally,madehimfalter.Hestaggered,fallingtothegroundlikehiswoundshadcaughtuptohimsimultaneously,andIpressedoverhim.
Hewasn’tdeadyet.Andsoonhewouldwakeup.Istabbedhimthroughthechest,barelyavoidingthewildflailofhislimbsasIfinishedthejob.Likeastarvingwolflashingoutonelasttime.Theyreallydidbecomeanimalswhenthingsgotthisbad.
Iyankedmybladefromhiscorpsewithawetcrunch,justasawaveofthattoxicsmokerolledtowardsme.Ihadtolurchaway,leavinghislimpbodytobeconsumedbyit.
IneededtofigureoutwhereIwas.Ineededto—
Movementrustledthebrushbehindme.Ispunaround.Myeyesgropedinthedarkness.Icouldonlyseesilhouettesinthedistance.Vampires,fighting.Andsomethingfour-legged.Demons?I’dbeensotrainedtoexpecttheworstthatmymindimmediatelywenttothreats.WhenIcreptcloserandrealizedthattheyweren’tpredators,butprey—deer,thrashingagainsttheshadowyfiguresofthevampiresthatpinnedthem—Iwasrelieved.
Good.Deerwereperfect.Theidealmealtodistractthestarvingvampires.Thestarvationhadgoneonlongenoughthattheywouldn’thaveachoicebuttoleaponwhateverbloodtheysmelled.AndIwasgladthattheseoneshadsmelledthedeerfirst.
Ineededtogetawayfromhere,andfast.Then,whenIwasalone,Icouldfigureoutwhatmyobjectivewas,findRaihn,and—
Istoppedmyself,swallowingasadpang.Raihn’snamehadflittedthroughmyheadwithoutmypermission.Butwehadseparated.TheHalfmoontrialwasover.Icertainlywouldn’tgooutofmywaytofighthim,but—
Iwasn’tquiteoutoftheclearingyetwhenarepulsivesoundrangoutbehindme.Itwassomethingbetweenagroanandagurgle—anuncanny,unnaturalblendbetweenanimalandvampire.
Iquicklyloweredintotheunderbrushandwatchedthecreaturesinthedistance.
Myeyeshadadjustedtothedarkness,andthemoonhadreappearedfrombehindamistycloud.Thecoldlightilluminatedthesceneofbloodyruinbehindme—thetwovampirescrouchedbetweenjaggedrocks,thedeercarcassnowopenbeforethem.Oneofthemwastryingandfailingtostand,theirlimbsspasmingwildly.Theotherseemedtobetryingtoreachfortheircompanionandfailing,asiftheirmusclesrefusedtocooperate.
Thefirst,instrange,lurchingmovements,jumpedontheother.Feralshriekscutthroughthenight.
Ishrankback.
This…thiswasn’thunger.Bloodlustmadevampiressloppy,butitdidn’tturnthemintomindlessbeasts.Thesepeoplelookedliketheydidn’tevenhavecontrolovertheirownbodiesanymore.
Thetwovampireswailedastheytoreeachotherapart.Unhinged,senseless,animalistic.Fuck.Theyjustwentateachother,notlikewarriors,butlikeanimals,thedeercarcassforgottenattheir—
Thedeercarcass.
Realizationsnappedintoplace.Ilookedaroundinhorror.Lookedaroundatthisplacethatreekedofdeath,andyetheldsuchastrangelyabundantamountofsoft,easy-to-catchprey.
Poisoned,trappedprey.
Nyaxiahadstarvedthem,andnowsheofferedthemtaintedgiftstheywouldbepowerlesstoresist.
Raihn.
Myheademptiedsaveforhisname.EverythingIhadtoldmyself,everylieI’dhidmyconcernbeneath,witheredaway.
Ididn’tthinkanymore.Ijustran.
***
Itwasn’thardtofindthevampires.Wehadbeenscatteredthroughouttheforest,buttheywereloud—bloodlustmadethemcareless,andwhateverpoisonwasintheseanimalsturnedthemintosomethingevenworse.
IfoundRaihnnotfarfromtheclearing.Irecognizedhimimmediately,eveninthedark,evenfromsuchadistance.I’dlearnedtheshapeofhimsowellthateveryanglewasanativelanguage.
Yet,forallhisfamiliarity,somethingwasalsoforeignabouthimrightnow.Thewayhemovedwasn’tthedeliberatepoiseofthemanwhosharedmyhome.Itwasferal,uncontrolled.Stillgraceful—thatwastheonlythingthatmademeexhaleinrelief,becausetherewasnothingofthattoxic,lurchinginsanity—butthemovementofapredatorreleasedfromitscage.
Hiswingswereout.Alimpbodyslumpedagainstanoverturnedtreetrunk—aShadowbornman,whom,apparently,Raihnhadjustfinishedkilling.Nowhesoaredthroughthetreesanddebrisinhunt.
Andthen,amomentlater,sawwhathewaschasing:thedeer,crashingthroughtherockybrush.
No.IdoveafterhimbeforeIcouldtalkmyselfoutofit.
Hemovedimpossiblyfast,weavingthroughthetreeslikealeafcaughtinagustofwind.Hewasswifterthanthedeer,whichdartedthroughthesparseforestinablindpanic.
Itwasonlythepanicoftheanimal,whichpracticallyranincircles,thatsavedusboth.Itcametooclosetoanimpassablepileofrocksandhadtoveerleft.Itrackedthemovementtocutitoff,puttingmyselfrightinRaihn’spath
IheardVincent’svoiceinmyhead:You’reabouttogetyourselfkilled,youstupidchild,throwingyourselfinfrontofavampireinbloodlust.
ButImovedanyway.
“Raihn!”IshriekedasIleaptinfrontofhim,hoistingmyselfupononeoftherocks,armsspread.“STOP!”
Itwasastupidplanforsomanyreasons.Firstofall,anyothervampirewouldhavegladlyreplacedthedeerwithme.Andsecondly,hehadwings—hecouldhavejustsoaredoverme,whetherIwasstandingontopofastupidrockornot.
ButRaihndidneitherofthosethings.Instead,hisgazefelltome,andhefaltered.Justforasecond.Andforthatmoment,IthoughtIglimpsedmyfriendthere.
Butotherwise,helookedsodifferent.Hisstarewashardandglassy.Astreakofharshmoonlightfellacrossonesideofhisface,andhiseyeswereevenredderthanusual,thepupilnarrowedtoaslit.
Thehairsstoodonmyarms.Everyinstinctscreamedatmetorun,run,run
BecauseRaihninbloodlustwasterrifying.Thekindofterrifyingthatmadeeverylivingthinginaten-mileradiuscower.
Instead,Iranathim.
ThrowingmyselfagainstRaihnwaslikehurlingapebbleagainstabrickwallandexpectingittocrumble.Still,Ihithimwithenoughforcetoknockhimoffbalance.Wetangledinamassofflailinglimbs.Heletoutawordlesssnarlandfoughtagainstme.PainsnakedacrossmycheekasIwasslightlytooslowdodgingoneofhisstrikes,butIslippedeveryother.IknewhowRaihnfought,andthosereflexesstillremained,evenwhenhewashalfoutofhismind.
JustasIknewhowpowerfulafighterhewas,Ialsoknewhisopenings.Iknewhisleftsidewasalittleweaker.Andjustashefalteredbetweenblows,IhithimrightwhereIknewhewouldstrugglemosttocounter,righttothatknee,forcinghimtotheground.
Iclimbedoverhim,pinninghisbodydownwithmine.
“Raihn!Getafuckingholdofyourself!”
Mother,hewasgoingtokillme.Iwassureofitwhenhishandsgrippedmyshouldershardenoughtoleavebruises.Thathorribleglazed-overlookinhiseyeshadn’tfaded.
Comebacktome,Raihn.Comeback.
“Iwillfuckingstabyouagain,andyouknowIwill!”Iroared.“Snapoutofit!”
Heblinked.
Hisfingersloosened.Hisnosetwitched—amovement,howeversmall,thatmademetense—butthenheclosedhiseyesanddrewinadeepinhale,andwhenheopenedthemagain…
Itwashim.Itwashim
“Oraya.”
Hesaidmynamelikeitwastheanswertoacrucialquestion.Hisvoicewasthinandhoarse.
Icouldhaveweptforit.
Butnotimeforpleasantries.CertainlynotimetoshowhimhowgratefulIwasthatIhadfoundhim.Ispokeinquick,clippedsentences.“Welcomeback.We’reinatrial.Theanimalsarepoisoned.Idon’tknowwhattheobjectiveis.Everyonewhodrinksisgoinginsane.Wehavetogetthefuckoutofhere.Let’sgo.”
Istartedtopushmyselfup,buthestillheldmyarms—gently,now.Awrinkledeepenedbetweenhisbrowsashetouchedmycheek.Thescratch.
“DidIdothis?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter,Raihn.Wehavetogo.”
Hisexpressionsaiditdidmatter,butIdidn’twanttothinkaboutthatrightnow,either.
“IfIgetoffofyou,”Isaid,“willyougorunafterasquirrel?”
Iwasgratefultoseethatfamiliar,long-sufferingannoyance.“Oh,fuckyou,princess.”
Itwasabitofarelieftohearhimcurseatmeagain.
IdecidedIacceptedthatanswerandpushedmyselfup.Raihngottohisfeetrightafter.Hemovedslowlynow,jerkingashisleftlegthreatenedtocollapseunderhim.Inmovement,Ihadn’tnoticedthebloodalloverhim.
Myheartstopped.TheShadowbornhe’dbeenfightingbeforehad,apparently,gottenafewhitsin.
“You’rehurt.”
“Seemsthatway.”
Ilookedtothesky.Dark,butever-so-faintlyrosy.Dawnwasn’tfaroff.
“Let’sfindsomewheretorest,”Isaidaswebegantowalk.“Thenwe’llfigureoutwhat’snext.”
Raihnmadeawordlessgruntofagreement.Butafterthreesteps,itbecameobviousthathewasstrugglingtomove.Ibacktrackedandtuckedmyselfunderhisarm.
“I’mfine,”hegrumbled.
“You’reclearlynotfine.”
Hisjawclenched,likehewantedtoarguethisandknewhecouldn’t.
Anditwasn’tjusttheleg,Iknew.Icouldhearitintheweaknessofhisvoice.Hewasinjured—andstillstarving.
No,Raihnwasvery,verymuchnotfine.Butheacceptedmyhelpwithoutcomplaint.CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
Wefoundshelterinacavecreatedbysomeofthecollapsedstones.Itcertainlywasn’ttheopulenceoftheMoonPalace,butitwasdarkanddeep,withplentyofplacestohideandonlyoneentrancetoguard.Iwonderedhowmanyofthecontestantsalreadyfellvictimtothepoisonedprey.Wedidn’tpassanotherlivingsoulonourwaytothecave—onlyoneconvulsingrabbit.
Ibroughtusdeepenoughintothecavethatnolightreachedusfromtheoutside.Wereachedshelterjustintime.Theskywasnowfaintlypinkwithdawn.ThecavewassodarkthatRaihnhadtomutterguidancetomeaswewent,becauseIcouldseenothing.Bythenhewasleaningheavilyonme.Whenwefoundourplacetostop,hepracticallycollapsedagainstthewall.
“Giveussomefire.Goodthingyou’vebeendoingallthatpracticing.”
Icouldhearthesmirkinhisvoice.Couldalsoheartheexhaustion.
Practiceorno,I’dbeenstrugglingtousemymagicconsistently.ButwhenIthoughtaboutthewayIfeltwhenconfrontedwithRaihn’sobviousweakness,theNightfirecametomyfingertipseasily.Raihn’sface,hollowedanddrawn,bloomedfromthedarkness.
Ilookedawayandfocusedveryhardonsculptingmylittleorbsoflight.
“Didn’tthinkI’dseeyouagain,”hesaid.
“Mm.”
Ididn’tevenknowhowtoexplaintomyselfwhyIwentafterhim,nevermindexplainittohim.
Itwasastupiddecision,Vincentsaidinthebackofmymind,andfrankly,Iagreedwithhim.
Ididn’tregretit,though.
“Thankyou,”hesaid.
IshifteduncomfortablyandwasgratefulIhadsomethingtodowithmyhands.WhatwasIgoingtosay?You’rewelcome?
“Iwouldhavebeen…”Heswallowedthickly.ImadeanotherlittleballofNightfire,soitwasnowlightenoughformetoseeeverymovementofhisexpression.
Andtoseeeverysignofweakness.
Hegavemeapainedsmile.“Youwereright,princess.”
“Wedon’thavetodothis.”IsaiditmoresharplythanImeantto.
“Wedo.Ido.Ijust…Ioweyouthat,don’tI?”
“Youdon’towemeanything.”
“Ix’stits,Oraya.Letmefuckingtalk.”
“Youcanbarelytalkasitis.”
“Neverstoppedmebefore.”
Imanagedalaughdespitemyself.Itsoundedmorelikeagaspofpain.Feltlikeit,too.
“I’msorry,”hesaid.
Myhandsfrozemid-movement,hoveringaroundthatsphereoflight.
“I’msorry,”hesaidagain.“Youwererighttotellmetoleave.”
Theapologyhitmelikeastrike.Sobluntanddirect.Nobattleofwillsoregos.
“Ididn’twantyoutoseemethatway,”hewenton.“SoIpretendedthatversionofmyselfdidn’texist.Itdoes.AndI’m—Idon’tlikepeopletoseeit.Ididn’twantyoutoseeit.”
I’mnotafuckinganimal,hehadspatatmeyesterday.Andsuddenlytheangerinhisvoicethensoundedsosimilartotheshameinitnow.
Ididn’tlikefeelingthings.Emotionswereever-shiftinganddevoidoflogic,andtheygavemenowaytosinkmybladeintothem.ButIfelttoomanyofthemnow,bubblingupunderthesurfaceofmysteelexterior.
Ididn’tsayanything.TheNightfireglowedalittlebrighterinerraticspurts.
“Weneedtodosomethingaboutyourinjuries,”Isaid.
Hewasmorethanhurt.Hewasstarving.Vampirescouldhealextremelyquickly,buthewouldn’tbeabletoifhedidn’tgetblood.
Iglancedathim.Hiseyeshadslippedofftothedistance.Icouldseelittleinthedarkness,buthissuperiorsightwasprobablylookingtothepathleadingoutofthecave.
“Ineedtogobackoutthere.”
Iscoffed.“Don’tbeafuckingidiot.”
Healthy,hemightbeabletosurviveanhourinsunlight—perhapsmoreiftherewascloudcover,thoughitwouldbepainful.Inthisstate,though?Therewasnoway.
“Then…Imightneedtoaskyoutohuntforme.”Hesaidthisasifitphysicallypainedhimtodoso.
“Thoseanimalsarepoisoned.Yousawwhattheydidtotheothers.”
“Thenmaybeit’sbettertodiehere,”hesaid,“thantodieoutthere,outofmymind.”
Abeatofsilence.Andinthatsilence,mymindranthroughoursituation,tracingthepathsbetweenouroptions.Thedecisionsnappedintoplace,anewimmovabletruth.
Istoodandfacedthewallofthecave.Unbuttonedthetopbuttonofmyleathers.Thenthesecond.
ImadeithalfwaydownbythetimeRaihnnoticedwhatIwasdoing.
“No.No,absolutelynot.”
“Yousaidityourself.Youdon’thaveachoice.”
Myvoicesoundedlikeitwascomingfromastranger.LikeIwaswatchingmyselffromtheoutside.Icouldn’tbelieveIwasdoingthis.Myhandswereclammy—myheartabeattoofast.
AndyetIhadnodoubtsaboutit.Noneatall.
Iunfastenedtherestofmyleathers.Coolairrushedagainstmyflesh,chillingthesweatycamisolebeneath.
Iturnedtohim.Histhroatbobbed,eyesdarkening.
Iknewthatlook,too.Adifferentkindofhunger.Itpassedquickly,butIstillfeltitlingeronmyskin—makingmesuddenlyself-consciousoftheamountofmybodythatwasnowexposed.
Herasped,“Ican’tdothat,Oraya.”
“Whatareyouralternatives?Youdieinthesun.Youdieamindlessbeastfrompoisonedblood.Oryoudiebeforethesunsetshere,doingnothing.AndI’mnotgoingtojustsitnexttoyouwhileyoudie,Raihn.I’mjust—I’mjustnot.”
Neitherofusacknowledgedtheslightcracktomyvoice.
Iapproachedhim.Ifelteverystep—everyincreaseinourproximity.Heleanedagainstthewall.Ikneeledbeforehim,soourgazesaligned,andhiseyessearchedmyface.
“YouthinkIdon’tknow?”hechoked.“YouthinkIdon’tknowwhatthismeansforyou?Ican’t.”
MaybeIshouldhavebeensurprisedthatRaihnunderstoodwhatI’dnevertoldhim—thathe’dpiecedtogetheraportraitofmypastfromeverymomentofangerorfearIletslipthroughmywalls.
MaybeIshouldhavebeensurprisedwhenhisfingertipgentlycaressedmythroat,notinhunger,butinsadness—atthescarthere,thosetwolittlejaggedwhitelines.
MaybeIshouldhavebeensurprisedthatheknewmemorethanIwantedhimto.
ButIwasn’t.
WordsweretooweaktoconveywhatIwantedtotellhimnow.
PerhapshethoughtthatIwouldthinklessofhimafterseeinghiminbloodlust.ButIdidn’t.Hehadbeenterrifyingthen,yes.ButnowIunderstoodexactlyhowhardhehadbeentrying.ItwouldhavebeensoeasyforhimtosuccumbtoitintheMoonPalace,taketheeasysolution.AftertheHalfmoon,Iwasnothingbutaliabilitytohim.Noonewouldhaveblamedhimfordoingwhathehadto.Andyet,he’dratherhaveremainedinthatapartment,windinghimselftighterandtighter,ratherthanleavemeorhurtme.Itmusthavebeenagonizing.
Offeringmyselftoastarvingvampirewasmorethandangerous.Practicallysuicide.
Andyet…Itrustedhimabsolutely.
Ididn’tknowhowtosayanyofthat.SoIsettledon,“I’mnotafraidofyou,Raihn.”
AndIsawinhiseyeshowmuchthosewordsmeanttohim.Likehehadbeengivensomethinghehadbeenwaitinghisentirelifefor.
Iswallowed.“So.What’s—what’sthebestwaytodothis?”
Hewouldneedmythroat.Sometimeswristsorarmsor—Ishiveredatthethought—innerthighsworkedwell,too,butheneededalotofbloodfast,andthethroatwouldbethebestwaytodoit.
Ithoughthemightstillprotest.Butafteramoment,hesaid,“Comehere.Leanoverme.”
Iinchedcloser,thenswungmylegsoverhisthighsandaroundhiships,straddlinghim.
ItriednottothinkaboutthefactthathefeltbeneathmeexactlyhowI’dimaginedhewould.Triednottothinkabouthowgood,howright,itfelttofeelthewarmthofhisbodypressedagainstmine,myinnerthighs,mystomach.
AndItriednottonoticethatheclearlynoticedallthesethings,too.Thatthemusclesofhisthroat,soclosenow,flexedwithaswallow.Thathishandsfelltomywaistimmediately,liketheyhadalreadybeenwaitingforme.
“Likethis?”Iasked.
“That’sperfect.”
Itwasn’tquiteperfect,actually.IwassomuchshorterthanRaihnthatevenwiththeextraheightofhislap,Ineededtopushmyselfupabit,andhewouldhavetocranehisnecktoreachmine.
Hisfingertipsbrushedtheangleofmyjaw,andforoneterrifyingmomentIthoughtthathewasgoingtokissme—itwouldbesoeasy,barelyatiltofhishead.Butinstead,hisfingersmoveddown,grazingmyshoulder,thenmywaist,thenreachingformydaggeratmybelt.Heunsheatheditandwrappedmyfingersaroundthehilt,thenangledthebladesoitpointedtohischest.
“Youareincontrolofthis,”hemurmured.“Alright?”
NowIunderstood.Hewantedmehere,inthisposition,becauseIcouldpullawayifIwantedto.
Inodded.Mygriparoundthatdaggerwassweaty.Iwonderedifhecouldhearmyheartbeat.
Thatwasastupidthought.Ofcoursehecouldhearit.Smellit.
“Youcanstillsayno,”hesaidsoftly.
“Stoptellingmethat,”Ibarked.
Heletoutaweaklaugh.“Theresheis.”
Andasifhetookthatashiscue,hepulledmecloser—hisarmsslidingovermyback,tuggingmeforwarduntilourbodieswerepressedtogether,saveforthedaggerthatIstillgrippedbetweenus.
I’dthoughtIwaspreparedforthis,butIwasn’tpreparedforhowgentlethemovementwas.Likehewascradlingsomethingprecious.
Itiltedmyheadback,staringhardatthedarknessofthestone.Harderstill,asIfelthisbreathagainstthesensitiveskinofmythroat.
“Itwon’thurtmuch.Butyoumightfeel…ah…”
“Iknow,”Isaid,toosharply.
Horny.Thatwaswhathewastryingtoexplaintome.
Vampirevenomhadanoverwhelmingeffectonhumanprey.Thebiologicalintentwastomakethemsoftandpliable.Sometimesthatpresentedasamuddled,intoxicatedhaze,asithadwiththeMinistaer’sbite—givenhisage,thelocationofthebite,andmydistasteforhim.Butmorecommonly,itmanifestedasintensearousal.
Andespeciallyifonealreadyfelt…
Ididn’tfinishtherestofthatthought.
“Justdoit,”Isnapped.
Hechuckled.“Asyouwish,princess.”
Andthenhislipswereonmythroat.
Everymuscletensed.Ibracedmyselfforpain.Instead,though,Ifeltonlyacaress.Justthesofttouchofhismouthagainstmyflesh,thefaintestbrushofhistongue,asifaskingpermissiontoenter.
Mycringemeltedintoashiver.
“You’resafe,”hewhisperedagainstmyskin.
Andthenhebit.
Hewasquickandforceful,hisfangsstrikingdeeponceandhittingtheirmarkimmediately.
Heletoutaninvoluntarygroanthatvibratedthroughmyentirebody.
Thevenomcouldnotpossiblyhaveworkedthatfast.Yet,myeyelashesfluttered.Everything—everyremainingdoubt—witheredawaybeneaththewarmtouchofhismouth,thepressofhisbodyagainstmine.Mybreasts,suddenlysensitive,peakedbeneaththetoo-thinfabricofmycamisole—sotightagainsthischestthatIcouldfeeleveryinhale,raggedandquickening.Histonguerolledagainstmyskinashetookhisfirstswallow,onelanguid,slowmovement.
Iimaginedthatthisiswhathewouldfeellikeinsideme,too.Thisdeepandall-consuming.
Unmistakablehardnessformedbeneathme.
Mypalmpressedflatagainstthewallbehindhisshoulder,theonelastholdoutinkeepingmeproppedupagainsthim.AndIstillclutchedthatdagger,thoughI’dletitslacken,nolongerbracedsotightlyagainsthischest.
Myhipsrolled—Icouldn’thelpit,notwiththerigidlengthofhisdesirerightthere—andRaihnletoutaserratedhissagainstmythroat.
ThistimeIechoedit,themoanescapingmeinachokedexhale.WewerealignedsoperfectlythatwhenIshiftedmyhips,Ipressedagainstthefull,thicklengthofhim,eventhroughtheheavyfabricofhispants.Andeventhatstroke,withsomuchbetweenus,sentsparksupmyspine.Senteverynervebegging,pleading,demanding,More
Itwasn’tenough.
Thevenomateawaythefinaldregsofmyself-control,unleashingawaveofdesirethatutterlyravagedmeandleftnothingbehind.
Iwantedeverylayerbetweenustornaway.Iwantedtorunmyhands,mylips,mytongueovereveryinchofhisskin,tasteeveryscar.Iwantedtooffereveryexpanseofmyfleshtohim,lethimdothis—this,thisfuckingamazingthing—toeverypartofme.Iwantedhismagnificentlengthinsideofme,takingmesodeepIcouldn’tremembermyownname,andIwantedhimtoremindmeofitwhenhecame.Iwantedtowatchhimgo.
Hisarmsgrippedmetight,pullingmecloserinonedesperatelurch,likehe’dbeentryingtoholdhimselfbackandfailing.Mycamisolewasgrippedinafistinoneofhishands,likethatwasallhecoulddonottotearitoffofme.Hedrankdeeper,histonguemovingagainstmyskinlikehewasmakinglovetome.
Ididn’tknowwhatIwasdoinganymore.Irolledmyhipsagain,andnow,therewasnothinghiddenaboutmymoan.
Andthistime,hemovedwithme.
IletthedaggerfalltothegroundwithadeafeningclatterIdidn’thear.Ipressedmyhandinsteadstraighttohischest,becauseeventhroughtheleatherofhisarmorIwantedtotouchmoreofhim,sensehisheartbeatquickeningintimewithmine.
Ididn’twanttostop.Iwantedtogiveallofmyselftohim.
Andthemostfrighteningpartofall—thepartthatwouldhavescaredmeaway,ifmylogicalmindhadbeenatallfunctionalinthismoment—wasthatitwasn’tthevenom.No,allofthishadalreadybeenthere,simmering.Thiswasonlywhatmadeitbubbleover.
Iabandonedmyholdonthewallforhisshoulder,grippinghimtighter.
Imovedagainsthimagain—Icouldn’thelpitanymore.Mybodywasnothingbutnervesandrawwant,exposedandtenderanddesperate—desperate—forhim.
Thelowgrowlinhisthroatechoedthroughallofme.AndIknewIshouldbeafraidofhim,ofhowmuchIknewhewantedme.JustasmuchasIdid.HewantedmorethanIwasgivinghimnow.
ButIwasn’tafraid.
You’resafe,Oraya,hehadwhisperedtome,andIbelievedhim.
Andevennow,hedidn’ttouchmemore,noteveninalltheplacesIblindlywantedhimto.Icouldfeelhimtensinglikeadrawnbowstring.Couldfeeltheurgencybuildinginthewayhistonguemovedagainstmythroat.
Iwantedit.Ispreadmythighswider,openedthesensitivepassagebetweenusmore.
Ididn’tmeantosayhisname.Didn’tmeantothrowmyselfagainsthim,starvingforasmuchofhisbodyasIcouldget,selfishlytakingeveryinchofthathardlengthbetweenusagainstmycore.
Starsexplodedovermyvision.Hisnamefellfrommylipsinagasp.Everymusclecoiled,andthenreleased.
Nothingexistedbuthim.
HimandeverythingthatIstillwanted.
ThefirstthingIbecameawareofwhenthesparksofmyclimaxfaded—oh,Mother,Ihadactuallyjustdonethat—washismusclestrembling.Hishandsweredrawnintofistsagainstmyback,grippingmycamisolesotightlythatIwascertainithadripped,butnotpullingmecloser.
Hewasbeingcareful,Irealized.CarefulnottopullmesocloseIcouldn’tgetaway.
Hewasnolongerdrinking.Instead,hislipsghostedovermyskin,overthewoundhehadopenedthere,intiny,gentlekisses.KissesoverthefreshscarIhadaskedfor.KissesovertheoldoneIhadnot.
Ifeltdizzy,boneless,mymindcoatedinablurofwant.Myorgasmhadn’tsatedme.Ifanything,itremindedmeofeverythingIstillwanted.Iwantedhisskin.Iwantedhiminsideme.Iwanted—
Hepulledaway.Hischestwasrisingandfallingheavilybeneaththepressofmypalm.Whenhemetmyeyes,thesightofhimcutthroughthehazeofmydesire.
Helookedlikeamanundone.Destroyed.
Atrickleofredfellatthecornerofhismouth.Iwantedtotasteit.Tastemyselfonhim.
Hislipsparted,andIkissedhimbeforewordscouldcomeout.
Mybloodtastedlikewarmiron.Butthatwasnothingcomparedtothewayhetasted.Hesmelledlikethesky—hetastedlikefalling.Hislipsmetminelikehe’dbeenwaitinghisentirelifeforthiskissandhadknownexactlywhathewoulddowhenhegotit.Wekissedlikewefoughttogether,respondingtoeachtouch,eachmovement.Weunderstoodeachotherbynow.
Buthejerkedbackabruptlyaftertoo-fewseconds.Ibarelyrecognizedmyownvoicewhenafrustratedwhimperleftmythroat.
“No.”Hepantedtheword.“No,that’senough.”
Thatwasinsulting.Itwasn’tenough.Notforeitherofus.Thewayhiscockstrainedbeneathmewasevidenceofthat.
Isawnoreasonnownottotakewhatwewanted.
“Youaren’tyourself,”hesaid.
“Don’tpretendyoudon’twantto.”
Mother,Ididn’tevenknowwhothisversionofmyselfwas.
Hemadeasoundbetweenanexhaleandascoff.
“Youdon’tevenknow,Oraya.”Thecornerofhismouth,wherealittlesmudgeofmybloodremained,curledasheshookhishead.“ThethingsI’vethoughtabout.‘Want’doesn’tevenfuckingcoverit.Ihavealist.”
Achillranupmyspine.I’dknownhedesiredme,evenifIdidn’twanttoacknowledgethat.Butitstillfeltstrangetohearhimconfirmitaloud.
Ilikedit.
“ButIwantyoutowantthosethingstoo.You.Notthevenom.”
Therejectionstungalittle.Ipulledawayfromhim.
Hechuckled.“Thatface.Theresheis.”
“Fuckyou,”Imanaged.
“YouwishIwould.”
Hissmilefaded.Myscowlfaded.Itwasn’tbanteranymorebecausewebothknewitwastrue.
Raihnstaggeredtohisfeet—hewasunsteady,butalreadylookedsomuchbetterthanbefore.Meanwhile,whenIstood,Inearlyfellbacktomyknees.
Hecaughtme.“Easy.You’velostalotofblood.Yourbodyisabitshocked.”
Hewasright.Ihadlostalotofblood.Givenhimsomuch.Andyet…nottoomuch.Eveninstarvation,eventwostepsfrombloodlust,hehadstoppedlongbeforeheriskedme.
“Sleep,”hesaid.“Letyourselfrecover.”
Sleep.Sleepsoundedgood.Notasgoodassex.Butgood.
IallowedRaihntolowermegentlytotheground.AndIallowedhimtolaydownbesideme,thewarmthofhisbody,bigandsolid,curlingaroundmine.
Myeyelidsimmediatelybegantoflutter.Hishandrestedonmywaist,offeringquietstabilityandnothingmore.
Butthenhishairtickledmyface.Hismouth,warmandnowtoo-familiar,brushedagainstmycheek.Andhiswordsshiveredoverthecrestofmyearashewhispered,“Thankyou.”
“Itwasthepracticalthing,”Ichoked,likewewerejusttalkingaboutthebloodandnotthe—the—everything.
Helaybackdownbehindme.Theworldstartedtoblur.AndthelastthingIheardassleeptookmewasRaihn’svoice,soquietitseemedlikehemightbespeakingtohimself.
“YouarethemoststunningthingI’veeverseen,Oraya.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Iwokeupwarm.Unusuallywarm.Pleasantlywarm.ThesortofwarmIdreamedaboutinthecrookedbedwiththescratchyblanket.
Safewarm.
ExceptIwasn’tinabed,Iwaslyingonhard,grittystone.Andthesourceofthewarmthwasn’tablanketbutawallofaman,whosechestwaspressedtomybackandchinrestedonthetopofmyhead,armslooselyholdingme.
Theeventsofthedaybeforecamebacktomeslowly.Raihn’sbodyundermine.Hismouthagainstmythroat.Myhipsrollingagainsthimand—
Aflushrushedtomyface.Istirred,suddenlytooconsciousintoomanydifferentwaysofRaihn’sarmsaroundme.
Apparently,hewasalreadyawake.Irolledovertoseehimlookingdownatme,hairhangingaroundhisfaceinred-blacktendrils,asmirkathislips.
“Didyouknowthatyousnore?”
Spokenwiththecasualliltofourusualbanteronthesurface,butIheardthenoteofawkwardnessbeneathit.Likehedidn’tquiteknowhowtointeractwithmeafterthat,either.
Iclearedmythroatandsatupashestood.Iwas…disheveled.Iranmyfingersthroughmyhair,whichIwascertainlookedasmessyandundoneasIfelt.Theeffectsofthevenomhadwornoff,leavingmestrangelywell-rested,slightlygroggy,andextremelyself-conscious.
“Well.”Ieyedhimupanddown.“Youseembetter.”
Thatwasanunderstatement.Helookedlikehimselfagain,ratherthantheshadeofapersonhehadbeenthenightbefore.Hiswoundshadalreadyhealeddramatically,andhemovedaroundunencumbered.
“Ifeelit,”hesaid.
Istood,andthesilencestretched.Raihnlookedlikehewasgettingalittletooclosetogivingmeanother“thankyou”thatmeanttoomuchandlingeredtoolong.
Whoknewthemanwassuchasap.
“I—”hestarted,rightoncue.
“ThisismeanttobeNyaxia’srescueofAlarus,right?”Icuthimoff,curtandbusinesslike.“Whentheycapturedhim.”
ThedarkestpartofNyaxia’sstory.Sheandherhusbandhadbrokenoutofprisononce,butAlaruswasluredbacktotheWhitePantheonwiththepromiseofamnestyforNyaxia.Instead,theothergodsdraggedhimouttotheemptyplanebetweenthedivineandmortalworlds.WhenNyaxiarealizedwhathadhappened,shetoreapartthedeadlandslookingforhim.
Butshewastoolate.Bythetimeshereachedhim,herhusbandhadbeendecapitatedandlefttorot.
“Thesearethedeadlands,”Isaid.“Theremustbeanendpointthatweneedtoreach.”
Raihn’sfaceshifted.Foramoment,Ithoughthewasgoingtotryyetagaintotalkaboutwhathadhappenedbetweenusthenightbefore.
Ibreathedasighofreliefwheninstead,hejustnodded.“Probably.”
Thetwoofuswenttothemouthofthecave,ourweaponsdrawn.Unlikelastnight,itwasnoweerilyquiet—soquietIquestionedwhetherthepoisonedcontestantshadalldiedoff.Therewerenovoicesorscreams,onlydistantwailsofanimalsandahissssthatslitheredthroughtheairassmokerolledinwavesoverthegraydirt.Thatdeadlymistwasworsethanlastnight—soupyandthick,stingingmyeyesevenfromthisdistance.Itevenpooledinthesky,ablanketcoveringthestarsandmooncompletely.
Afewminuteslater,itdissipatedjustenoughtorevealtheghostlysilhouetteofthelandscape.Notthattherewasmuchtosee.Onlyafewgnarled,brokentreesdottedtheland,emerginglikesilent,mournfulsentinels.Jaggedrocksdottedtheemptyexpanse,viciousasbaredteeth.
Lastnight,thisplacehadseemeddead.Now?Itseemedmorethanthat—notjustdeadbutmurdered,grievinginviolentdeaththroes.
Astrangesensationprickledatthebackofmyneck.Anaggingthoughtthatlingeredjustoutofreach.
“There.”Raihn’svoicewasveryclosetomyear.Ifollowedhispointinghand.“There’ssomethingoverthere.Gold.Seeit?”
Icouldn’t.“Youreyesightisbetterthanmine.”
“It’sthere.Itmustbetheend.”
“Howfar?”
“Miles.”
Fantastic.
“Thesmokeis…”Irubbedmyarm,wheretheleatherbubbled.“Idon’tknowwhatitis,butithurts.”
Andworse,therewasnowsomuchmoreofitthanthenightbefore.
“Iremember,”Raihnsaid,touchinghisownburntarmor.
“Sowecan’tjustwalkthroughthecenter.Andyoucan’tflyaboveit,becauseitjustcollectsupthere.”
Icranedmyneckaroundtheopeningofthecave.Thecliff—ifthatwasevenwhatthisplacewas;itwassohardtotellwheneverythingwassojaggedandformless—extendedstraightinbothdirections,beforedevolvingintoanunstable-lookingpileofrocks.But,thelandwasraisedalongitsedge—asifthebrokenforestbeforeuswasacrater,andwehadfoundshelterattheedgeofitsrim.Theridgecurvedinbothdirections,graduallyclimbingup,beforemyweakhumaneyeslosttrackofitinthedarkness.
“Couldweclimbalongthat?”
Raihnfollowedmygaze.“It’slessdirect,butitwouldtakeustothegate.Andtherewouldbelesssmoke.”
Less,butnotnone.Iwatchedthesmokebillowupfromthegroundinpuffs.Thickerforseveralseconds,thenthinningasthebreezeshiftedit.Thenthickeragain,asanewwaverosefromtheearth.
Istartedcountingsilently.
“Whatif—”Raihnstarted,butIbarked,“Shh!”andtriednottolosemycount.
There.
Ninetyseconds.
“It’spredictable,”Isaid.“Thewaythesmokemoves.Look.”
Thistime,Raihnwatchedwithme.
“See?”Isaid,whenthebillowswelledagain.“Ninetyseconds.It’spredictable.Andittakesalongtimeforthecloudtogetupthere.”Ipointedtothecrestoftherim.“Wewouldbeabletoseethewavecoming.”
“Anddowhat?”
“Hide?”
“Wheredoesonehidefromsmoke?”
“Behind…arock?”
IknewevenasIsaiditthatitwasastupididea.
Raihngavemealookthatsaid,That’sastupididea.
Ithrewmyhandsup.“Well,what’syourbrilliantsuggestion,Raihn?”
Hewasquietforalongmoment,thinking.Thenhismouthcurled.“ThemanIkilledyesterdaywasShadowborn,wasn’the?”
***
Icouldn’tbelievewewereriskingourlivesforafuckingcloak.
TheonlyreasonIdidn’tobjectmoretothiswasbecauseRaihn’sfighthadnotbeenfarfromhere.Still,wehadtodosomestrategicguessingtofigureoutwherethebodymightbe—ifitwasevenstillthereatall—andtheconsequencesofbeingwrongweredire.
WedecidedRaihnwouldgoalone.HecouldflyfasterthanIcouldrun,andthesmokewouldaffecthimlessthanme.
“Waituntilit’sthinnest,”Itoldhim.“Andifyoudon’tfindhim,comebackrightaway.Don’twastetime.”
“Iknow.”
AllIcouldthinkaboutwashowweakRaihnhadbeenjusthoursago—how,evennow,Icouldseetheremnantsofit.
Iswallowedandsaid,ascoldlyasIcouldmanage,“Don’tdoanythingstupid.”
Helookedback,narrowinghiseyesatme.“IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dthinkyouwereworried,princess.”
“Idon’twanttohavetomakethatclimbaloneonfoot.”
Hejustchuckled.“SometimesIhavemydoubts,butyoureallydolikeme,don’tyou?”
AndbeforeIhadtimetosnapathimagain,hewasgone.Hismagnificentwingsspreadasthesmokethinned,andhesoareddownintothepit.
Tensecondspassed.
Twenty.Thirty-five.
Iunsheathedmyblade.
Ifhewasn’tbackbysixty,Iwouldgo,Idecided.
MyeyesachedfromnotblinkingasIstaredintothatsmoke.
Forsomereason,mymindwenttoNyaxia.Howshemusthavefeltfightingherwayacrossthedeadlands,allalone,desperatetosaveherhusband.Itstruckmewithsuddenclarityjusthowterribleitmusthavefelttobeoutofreachofsomeoneyoucaredfor—tofeelutterlypowerlesstoprotectthem.
Fifty-fiveseconds.
Thatwasit.Iwasgoing.
Idrewinadeepbreathandheldit.Asifthatwoulddoanything.
Istartedrunning—
—Andthensomethingknockedmeaway.Iwasreadytofight,butalowlaughandanow-familiarholdonmyshouldersstoppedmyhandbeforeitmoved.Raihnhadyankedmebackawayfromthesmoke,asmilecrinklingthecornersofhiseyes.Hiswingswerestillout,glisteningeveryshadeofnightlikemeltedpaintinthedarkness.
“Wereyoucomingtorescueme?”
“Forasecondtime,”Imuttered,andsheathedmyblades.
“I’mtouched.Noneed,though.Look.”
Hereleasedmeandgrabbedthefabriche’dbunchedupinhisotherhand,lettingitfall.Itwasdarksilver—afavoriteoftheHouseofShadow—andlookedaslightasair.Itshimmeredandrippledlikemoonlightitself.
“Avathriansilk,”Raihnsaid.“JustlikeIthought.OneoftheShadowborn’sfinestcreations.Looksfragile,butthisshitfiltersouteverything.Abitchtocutthrough,too.”
IthoughtoftheShadowbornman’scorpse,practicallysplitintwo.Hadn’tstoppedRaihnlastnight.
“Whydon’ttheymakealltheirclothesoutofit?”
“It’sexpensiveandveryhardtoworkwith.Sotheytendtouseitforsimplethings.”Raihnaffixedthecloaktohisshoulders,thenraisedthehood.Helookedasifhewascoveredinmoltensteel.Evendirtyandwounded,hewasasighttobehold.Fearsomeandmajestic.
“Willitbeenough?”Iasked.
Heshrugged,makingthesilkenfabricripple.“Let’shopeso.”
“Thatinspiresconfidence.”
“Oh,right.Myideaisthestupidone.Let’shidebehindarockinstead.”
Ipursedmylips.Fair.Itwasthebestoptionwehad.
So,wedecided,Raihnwouldwearthecloak,carryme,andmoveusbothasquicklyaspossibleacrosstherockycrestinninetyseconds.Thenwewouldstop,takecoverbeneaththecloak,waitthenextninetycountsforthewaveofsmoketodissipate,andcontinue.Wehadnoideawhatwewouldencounterupthere—monsters,competition,orboth—andRaihnwouldbeunabletodefenduswhilemoving.Thatwouldbemyjob.He’dbethewings.I’dbetheteeth.
Repeat,untilwearrivedatthegate.
Oruntilsomeoneelseattackedandkilledus.
OruntilthesmokepenetratedtheShadowbornfabricandateusalive.
Fabulous.
Wepreparedourselves,andRaihnscoopedmeupinhisarmsagain,holdingmetighttohischestwhileIreadiedmyblades.Fromthefirsttimeheheldmethisway,ithadfelt…differentthanIexpecteditto,evenifIwasn’treadytoadmitit.Now,inthewakeoflastnight,Iwasveryconsciousinaverydifferentsortofwayofalltheplacesourbodiestouched.
Hislipsduckedclosetomyear.“Ready?”
Notreally.ButascloseasIwasgoingtobe.
“Ready.”
Andthenwewererushingintothedeadlymist.CHAPTERFORTY
Thiswasn’tflying.Thiswasjusthurtlingourselvesthroughtheair,allfinessestrippedawayinfavorofspeed.Myeyesburnedandfacestungasbugs,dust,andstraybranchesclawedatus.Raihnhadtomoveerratically,notingracefularcsbutmessyjerkstododgetreesandpilesofrockwhilekeepinguslowenoughtoavoidthecloudofacidicsmokeaboveus—andallwhilefightingwiththeflowingfabricthatthreatenedtotangleinhiswings.Istruggledtokeepmyeyesopenandweaponsready,barelyblinking.
Thirtycounts,forty,sixty-five,seventy—
“Now!”Ishouted.
Raihnheldmetighter,andweslammedtotheground.Hepushedmedownfirst—hardenoughthatIletoutastrangledoof—andbracedhimselfaboveme,throwingthecloakoverusboth.
“Smaller,”hegrunted,andIpulledmylegsuptighttomytorsoandrolledtotheside,makingmyselfastinyaspossiblebeneathhim.
I’dneverbeensogratefultobeasshortasIwas.Itwastheonlyreasonwhythisworked.Raihnhadsaidthathewouldmagichiswingsawaysotheydidn’tgetintheway,buthemustnothavehadtime,becauseheendeduppressingthemdowntighttooursides,thecloakcomingdownaroundus.Myheartbeatquickenedatthesuffocatingcloseness—Iwaspinned,theashygroundbeneathme,Raihn’sbodyabove,hiswingsoneitherside.
Icouldn’tseeanything.ButIfeltit,whenthesmokerolledin,becauseRaihntensed.
Ipressedmyhandtohischestinawordlesscomfort.
“Shutyoureyes,”hecommanded,justbeforetheburningstarted.
Isqueezedthemshuttight,butIstillfeltit.Onmyflesh,too—firstintheexposedskin,likemywristsandhandsandneck,andthentherestofme.
Tensecondsin,Ithought,Maybethiswillkillus.
Butitdidn’t.Thepainremainedunpleasant,butfarfromdeadly.
Ninetyendlessseconds.
WhenRaihnfinallyliftedoffme,myskin,lungs,andeyesstung,butIwasotherwiseunhurt.Hewouldhavegottentheworstofit.Ihadnotimetoevenlookathim,though,beforehegrabbedmeandwewereflyingoncemore.
Mymindemptiedofeverythingbutcounting.Wehadtomakeitmileslikethis,inninety-secondspurts.Ilosttrackofhowmanytimeswerepeatedit,mybodyslammingagainstthegroundagainandagain.
Wewereluckyatfirst,encounteringnodangerotherthanthatsmoke.Butthen,abouthalfwaytoourdestination,Raihnthrewbackthecloakandwewereimmediatelyattackedbythreewolves,foamy-mouthedandvisiblystarving.Raihndidn’thavetimetograbhissword,insteadunleashinganimmediateburstofmagictoforcethemback—farweakerthanusual,consideringhisstill-freshinjuries.
Fifteenseconds.
Ihadtoreactfast.IguttedonewhileitwasstillstunnedfromRaihn’sblast,andtheotherwhenitexposeditsthroattomeasitdove.
Fortyseconds.
Thethirdrefusedtodie.ItlungedformewhileIwasstillpullingmybladefromitscompanion.
Fifty-five.
Ifought,andIcounted.Raihnleaptintohelp,takinganastybiteintendedforme.Thewolfclungtolife,thrashingbackateverywound.
Sixtyseconds.Seventy.
Eighty,asIfinallykilleditwithastrikeandaburstofNightfire—justintimetolookdownthesteepinclineofthecraterandseeawaveofmistyblackcomingforus,tensecondsearly.
Raihnthrewmedownroughly.Isawhimwinceasthesmokerolledoverus.Wewerenosetonose.Thefabricdidn’tcoverallofhim.
“Youweretooclose,”hewhispered.
“Blamethewolf.”
Thistime,whenthoseninetycountswereup,Raihndidn’tmovequiteasquickly.Ashescoopedmeupagain,Ieyedhiswings.Thetipshadbeenpokingoutofthecloak.Nowthefeatherstherewereslightlyragged,theblackfleckedwithwhatIatfirstthoughtwasblood,andthenrealizedwereactuallyspotsofredcoloring.
Weflewagain,again,again.Weweregettingtired.Movingabitslowerwhenweneededtobegoingfaster.IknewthattheburnsonRaihn’swingsandlegswerebotheringhim,aswasthewolfbite.
Atlast,thearchcameintosight.MyeyesightwassopoorinthedarkandthefogthatweweresurprisinglyclosebythetimeIcouldmakeoutthatgoldgatecuttingthroughthenight.Maybetwomoresprints.
“Iseeitnow,”Isaid,relieved.
Raihn’shandswerealreadyatmywaist,preparingtocarrymeagain.“Youshouldbeashamedofthatterriblehuman—”
Hestoppedshort.
Iturned.Hewaslookingdownatsomething.Wehadclimbedhigh,therockyridgenowloomingfaraboveourstartingpoint,andfartherstillabovethedeepestpartsofthecraterbelow.Fromthisdistance,itlookedlikeacauldronofmist.Ithadbeendifficulttoseethecurvatureofthelandscapeatthebottom,butuphere,theshapeofitwasunmistakable,thecirclesowelldefinedthatitseemedasifithadbeenman-made.
Thehairsroseatthebackofmyneck.Onceagain,anoddsensationoffamiliaritypassedoverme.
IglancedatRaihn,andhisexpressionmademestopbreathing.Angerandfearanddevastation,paintedovereveryfeature.
Ihadonlyseenthatoncebefore.WhenhethoughtMischewasdead.
Somethingsilverglintedinthedirt.Hekneeleddownandpickeditup.Staredatit.
“Thisis…”
Hesoundedasifhedidn’trealizehewasspeakingaloud.Thesilverinhisfingersglintedashishandsshook.Irealizeditwasastreetsign—orpartofone.
Wewererunningoutoftime.
“Raihn,wehavetogobefore—”
Herasped,“ThisisSalinae.”
Salinae?
Ialmostlaughedathim,becauseitwassooutlandish.SalinaewasoneofthebiggestcitiesintheHouseofNight.WhentheRishanhadbeeninpower,ithadbeentheirsecondcapital.I’dresearcheditobsessively,preparingforthedayIcouldstormit.I’dstudiedeverydrawing,everymap.
“Salinae?That’s…”
Ridiculous,Istartedtosay.
ButI’dstudiedeverymap.
Andsuddenly,thereitwas,superimposedoverthisdesolatewasteland.Pilesofsmashedrockbecamebuildings—thecityhallthere,thechurchthere,thelibrarythere.Veinsofpackeddirtthroughthelandscape,dismissedbeforeasnaturalrivuletsintheearth,becameroads.
Mylipspartedinsickenedshock.
Thiswasn’tawasteland.Itwasruinsofacitythatnolongerexisted.Theruinsofacitythathadbeenthoroughly,systemicallydevastated—asifbyoneofthemostpowerfulmilitariesintheworld.
Andfinally,Irealizedwhytheairfeltsofamiliar.
ItsmelledliketheaftermathofAsteris.Asterisandexplosives,powerstrippeddirectlyfromthestarsitself,wieldedbythousandsofwarriors.
Itsmelledlikethisveryplacehadsmelled,sixteenyearsago,thenightVincenthadtakenmehome.
Iwasnumbastherealizationfelloverme.
Iwillsparenoone,Vincenthadsaid.Iwillnotspareyourwivesorchildren.
Andhehadn’t.NotjusttheRishan.Butthehumans,too.
Vincenthadkilledthemall.CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
Myearsrang.Myhandswentcoldandstill.Ididn’tmove.Juststaredatthisplace.Thisdead,brokenplace,wherecountlesspeoplehadoncelived.
AnyfamilyIhadleft.
Gone.
Icouldn’tthink.Raihnwassayingsomething,butIdidn’tknowwhat.Iwouldn’tunderstandthewords,evenifIcouldhearhim,whichIcouldn’t.
Salinaeisgone.
Gone.
Gone.
Go—
“Oraya,getdown!”Raihnroaredasherammedagainstme.
Wehadbeendistracted.We’dstoppedcounting.Painsearedmyleftfoot,whichjuttedoutbeyondthecloakthatRaihnhadhastilythrownoverusboth.Ifelthisbodytense,too.Itdidn’tcovereitherofus.
Forninetylongseconds,weremainedthatway.
Everythinginsideofmeturnedtoice,andIwasgratefulforit.Iwouldratherbecoldandhardandfeelnothingthanconfrontthis,eventhoughIcouldfeelmygriefthere,burningunderthesurface,fartoohottobecontainedbyevenalifetimeoffrigidcontrol.
Vincentwouldn’thavedonethis.Hecouldn’t.
Icouldn’thelpbutthinkofNyaxia.Mother,shecouldn’thavesetitupmoreperfectly.Wewereactingoutamorbidcaricatureoftheworstmomentofherlife,whenshefoughtthroughthewastelandsindesperatesearchofherhusband,onlytofindthathewasalreadydead.
Shehadbeentoolate.Andnow,sowerewe.
Ninetysecondspassed.Raihnpulledthecloakaway,slowlyrising.Yethestillstruggledtotearhiseyesfromtheashyground.Itwaslittered,Irealizednow,withlittleglintsofsilverandbrokenmetal.Skeletalremainsofthecity
“Halfamillionpeople,”hechokedout.“Halfamillionpeoplelivedhere.”
Distantly,avoicewhisperedinmyear,Youneedtomove.Youneedtomoverightnow,littleserpent—
IlookeduptoseeafiguremovingfasttowardsusoverRaihn’sshoulder.Astreakofsilver,comingrightforus.
Notimetododge.
IpushedRaihnoutofthewayandcollidedwithIvanatfullforce.
Mybackslammedtotheground.Ivanwasontopofme,everypartofhisfacebutasliveroverhiseyescoveredbytornstripsoffabric.I’dhadtimetogetRaihnoutofthewayandstopIvan’sattack,butthatmeantIhadnogoodcounterofmyown.Mybladeshadbeenknockedfrommyhands.Somethingcutacrossmyabdomen,shockdullingthepaintoadistantthrob.
Ivan’seyescrinkledwithasatisfiedsmile.
Andthenthepainwassuddenlyexcruciating,likeallmybloodwasbeingboiledwithinmyveins.Littledropletsofredroseintotheair,hoveringaroundIvan’spaleface—myblood,ashismagicwrungitfrommybody.
“FortheHalfmoon,”hewhispered,andIpreparedtomeetdeathfighting—
ButthenRaihnrippedhimoffme,hurlinghimtoapileofrockswithenoughforcetosnapaspine.
“Don’tfuckingtouchher,”hegrowledasblacklightcrackedthroughtheair,hisAsterisawokenwithfreshpower.
Itriedtomoveandcouldn’t.Mystrengthdrained,seepingintothegroundlikerainwater.Ionlymanagedtoturnmyhead—turnitenoughtosee,throughblurringvision,RaihnontopofIvan,swordraised,gettingreadytodealthekillingblow.
Behindhim,anothersmearofsilveremergedfromthesmoke.Angelika.Unmistakable,eveninthedarkness.LikeIvan,shecoveredherentirebodysaveforhereyes.Still,everylineofherradiatedpower.
“Raihn!”Itriedtoscreamassheraisedherbow.Itcameoutonlyasastrangledgrunt,buteventhatwasenoughforRaihn’sheadtosnapup.
“Lethimgo!”Angelikabellowed.
Throughmyblurryvision,Inoticedsomethingstrange:herarrowdidnotpointatRaihn.
Itpointedatme.
“LethimgorightnoworI’llfuckingkillher,Raihn!AnotherNessanyn.Doyouwantthat?Lethimgo!”
Raihnstilled.
Everythingwentgrayandblurry.Thevoicesdistant.Vincent’sseemedcloserasitwhisperedtome,Youmadeitsofar,littleserpent.Butatleastyourboneswilllieinyourhomeland.
Mypalmpressedtothegritty,ashysand,fingerslooselyclosingaroundahandfulofit.Iwonderedifthebonesofmyfamilywerehereinthisdirt,too,grounddowntonothingbutdust.
IblinkedenoughtomakeoutRaihn’sform,grippingIvan’slimp,injuredbodybythecollar.“Fine,”hesaid,atlast.“I’lllethimgo.”
AndthenherippedIvan’smaskoffhisfaceandhurledhimdownthesteepincline,directlyintotheincomingwaveofdeadlysmoke.
Raihnthrewhimselfoverme.Mythroatreleasedawhimperashisweightfellacrossmyinjuredbody.Adistantwailofagonycutmetothebone—Angelika’s.
AtfirstIthoughtperhapsshehadbeencaughtinthemist,too.ThenIrealized,no—itwasbecauseofIvan.Shewasscreamingingrief.
Raihnpulledmeclosetohim.Whenhetouchedmywound,Iletoutaweak,involuntarykeen,andhestiffenedasifwithawfulrealization.Hemurmuredintomyear,“Weneedtorunrightnow.”
“I’malright,”Itriedtosay,eventhoughhedidn’taskmethat.Iwaslosingmyfighttokeepmyholdontheworld.
“Holdyourbreath,”hesaid.AndthenIwasbeingliftedintotheair,andmyfacewastuckedagainstasolidwallofwarmth,andwewereflyingfastfastfast
Everythinghurt,likemyexposedskinwasbeingflayedawayinlittlechunks.Angelika’sscreamechoedbehindus.
Wewouldn’tsurvivethis.Notevenafewsecondsofit.Wewerebeingconsumed.
ButIforcedmyheadupjustintimetoseethegaterushingtowardsus—
—Andthenitwassilent.
Raihn’slandwasfarfromgraceful.He’dbeenmovingsofastthathehadtostopshorttoavoidhurlingusbothagainstthestonebarrieroppositethegate.Weendedupinaheaponapackedsandground.
ItriedtopushmyselfupwhileRaihn’sholdsteadiedme.Myeyesadjustedtofamiliargold-and-silverlightsoveranendlessseaofseats.
Thecolosseumlookedsodifferentlikethis—completelyempty.Therewerenoscreamingcrowds,nocheeringvoices.Notasinglespectatoronthosecountlessdesertedbenches.Onlymenacingsilence.
Beforeus,abloodyfiguresatonthesandswiththeirkneespulleduptotheirchest,adarkredblanketaroundtheirshoulders.Theywerecoveredinsomuchblood.Ittookmeamomenttomakeoutwhotheywere,untiltheirgazeliftedtomeetmine.
ItwasIbrihim.
Andtheblanketwasnotablanket,buthiswings—tatteredandbubblingwithoozingburnsthatmatchedthosearoundhiseyes.He’dcoveredhisfaceasmuchashecouldandhadcoveredtherestofhimselfwithhiswings,nowdestroyed.
Perhapsthelookonmyfacebetrayedmyhorror,becausehesmiled,ahumorlesstwistofhislips.“Themostusefulthey’vebeeninyears.”
TheMinistaerstoodineeriestillness,fourofhisacolytesbehindhimwiththeirheadsbowed.
“Welcome,OrayaoftheNightbornandRaihnAshraj,”theMinistaersaid.“OurMotheroftheRavenousDarkispleasedbyyourservice.Youhaveprogressedtothefinaltrial.”
IhadimaginedthatIwouldfeelmorewhenIheardthosewords.Instead,theyweremetonlywithanumbsenseofdread.
“Therehasbeenachange,”theMinistaersaid.“TheNewMoontrialwillnottakeplaceinthreeweeks.Itwilltakeplacetomorrow.”
Mybrowknitted.What?Thatwasunheardof.
“Tomorrow?”Raihnrepeated.
“Why?”Icroaked.Myfingersdugintohisarm.IhopedIwashidinghowheavilyIwasleaningonhim.
“ItisveryimportantthattheKejariconcludes,”theMinistaerreplied,simply,asifthatansweredourquestion.
Raihnsaid,“Well,ofcourse.Butwhy—”
“NyaxiarecognizesthereisnocertaintythatSivrinajwillexistinthreeweeks.”
TheMinistaer’sfaceliftedinthefaintesthintofanodtothedistance.
Weturnedtofollowit.
Thegatesofthecolosseumwerewideopen,revealingagrandtableauofthecity.MyeyesrosetotheupperstretchesofthecolosseumwallsandtheskylineofSivrinajbeyondthem.
“Fuck,”Raihnbreathed.
Icouldn’tevenbringmyselftospeak,noteventocurse.
IknewwhatSivrinajlookedlike.I’dmemorizedeveryshapeofthislandscapeinamillionmournfulmomentsatmybedroomwindow.AndthoughIneverforgotthatthiswasacity—akingdom—ofbrutality,Ineverthoughtthatmylethallybeautifulhomecouldbecome…this.
ThecityofSivrinajhadalwaysbeenassleekasaweapon,butnow,thebladehadbeendrawn,anditwascoveredindeath.
Bodieslinedthecolosseumwalls,proppeduponstakes.Somestilltwitchedintheirfinaldeaththroes,thelifedrainingfromthemforMother-knewhowlong.Therewerehundredsofthem.Somanytheystretchedintothedistance,toofarformetomakeouttheshapeoftheirbodies.Butmyfatherdidnotstartanythinghecouldnotfinish.Iknewtheywouldcontinuefortheentirelengthofthewalls,evenwhenIcouldnotseethem.
Andpinnedbeloweachstake,stretchedoutingarlandsofdeath,weretheirwings—countlessfeatheredwings,stakedthroughancientstone.Red-blackblooddrippeddownwhitemarbleindeceptivelyelegantrivulets,glisteninginthetorchlightbeneatharainbowofbrownandgoldandwhiteandgrayandblackfeathers
WehadbeenlockedupintheMoonPalace,isolated,forweeks.MorethanlongenoughforthewaragainsttheRishantoescalate.Still,thesheerscaleofthiswasstaggering.Sickening.
I’vehadthreehundredyearsofpractice,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.Itisalwaysimportanttobedecisiveandefficient.
“Youmaywanttorestwhileyouhavetheopportunity,”theMinistaersaid,asifnothingofnotewashappeninghere.Hegesturedtoanotherdoor,whichofferedaglimpseoftheMoonPalace’sgreatroom.“Muchhaschanged.”INTERLUDE
Thewoundsontheyoungwoman’sneckhadnotyethealed.
Twodaysago,theboyshethoughtlovedhertriedtokillher.
Today,herfathercametoherroom.
“Ihaveagiftforyou,”hesaid.“Followme.”
Thekingoftengavetheyoungwomangifts,thoughherarelycalledthemso.Rightnow,shewasheartbroken.Shefelthurtandfoolishandstupid.Shewasnotinthemoodforgifts.Butshewasnotinthemoodforarguing,either,soshewentwithherfather.
Heledhertohisthroneroom.Itwasastunningplace,aseaofmarbletileinredandwhiteandblack,theNightbornthroneloomingoveritall.Thekingclosedthedoubledoorsbehindhimandusheredhisdaughterinside.
Shefroze.
Theroomwasempty,saveforasinglefigureatthecenterofthatexpanseofsmoothredmarble—ahandsomeyoungman,kneeling,hishandsboundbehindhisback.Helookedupatherwiththesameeyesthatshehaddreamedabout.Utteredafranticapologywiththesamemouththathadtriedtotearopenherthroat.
Thegirlcouldnotmove.Themeresightofherloverseizedherheart,toomanyfeelingsthrashingintoomanydirections.
Thekingstrodeacrosstheroomandstoodbehindtheboy,handsrestinguponhisshoulders.Heturnedtohisdaughterandsaid,“Comehere.”
Shedid.Upclose,shecouldseethattheboywastremblinginsheerterror.Thiswasstrangetoher.Shehadnotyetseenthatvampires,too,couldbejustasfrightenedasshewas.
“Lookathim,”thekingcommanded.
Shedid.Shedidnotwantto.Lookingintothosetoo-familiargreeneyeswasagonizing.
“He’safraid,”thekingsaid.“Asheshouldbe.”
Theboygazedupathislover.Hetriedtoapologize,triedtosaythathedidn’tknowitwouldbethatway,thathewouldfeelthatway—
Thekingshushedhim.Hereachedtohisbelt,unsheathedadagger,andhelditout.
“Takeit.”
Acommand.Theyoungwomancouldnotdisobeyherfather’sorders.Shehaddonesoonlyonce,andnowlookatwhathadhappened.
Soshetookthedagger.
Thekinghadtrainedherforyears.Sheknewhowtohandleaweapon.Herfingersfellintoplaceimmediately,nowsecondnature.Butthiswasthefirsttimeshehadheldonesoclosetoanotherlivingbeing.Thelightfromthelanternsbouncedontheblade,castingsparksofgreenintheboy’sfranticeyes.
Thekingsaidcalmly,“ItoldyouthenightIbroughtyouherethatIwouldteachyouhowtowieldyourteeth.AndIhaveupheldthatpromise.ButnowitistimethatIteachyouhowtobite.”
Theyoungwomankeptherfacestill.Butinside,panicseizedher.
“Theheartistheeasiestway,”thekingwenton.“Straightthroughthechest.Slightlytotheleft.Youwillneedtobeforceful.Quick.Itwillbeeasyrightnow.Butothertimes,theywilltrytorunorfight.Donotgivethemthechance.”
Everythinghadgonenumb.
Thedaggerwasheavyinherhands.
Herloverlookedupatherandbegged.
“Iamsosorry,Oraya.I—I’msosorry.Ididn’tknow,Ididn’tmeanto,Idon’tevenremember—”
Therearemomentsinone’slifethatremainpermanentlydistilledinmemory.Somewitherwithinminutes,andothersarecarvedforeverintooursouls.
Thisimage,oftheboyshelovedbeggingherformercy,wouldfollowherfortherestofherlife.
Yearslater,whenthegirlwasagrownwoman,shewoulddecidethattheboydidnotmeantohurtherthatnight.ThathehadnotyetunderstoodhisnewlyTurnedvampireimpulses.Itdidnotchangewhathedid.Itdidnotmakeitanylessunforgivable.Itonlymadevampiresmoredangerous.Theycouldloveyou,andstillkillyou.
Butinthismoment,thegirldidnotknowwhattobelieve.
Ican’t.Thewordslingeredonthetipofhertongue.Shamefulwords.Sheknewbetterthantosaythemtoherfather.
Thekingstaredather,unblinking.Expectant.
“Onestrike.Thatisall.”
Shestartedtoshakeherhead,buthesnapped,“Yes.Youcan.Youwill.Iwarnedyoulongagothatyouwereneversafewithanyonebutme.Iwarnedyou.Thisistheconsequence,Oraya.”
Hedidnotraisehisvoice.Thekingrarelyshouted.Buttheedgeofhiswordswasjustascutting,justaslethal,astheedgeofthebladehehandedher.
Nowsheunderstood.
Thiswasmorethanjustalesson.Itwaspunishment.Shehaddisobeyedherfather’stenets.Shehadallowedsomeoneelseintoherheart.Andnow,hewouldforcehertocarveitoutandlayitathisfeet.
“Thisisadangerousworld.”Hisvoiceturnedsoft,tender.“Thisiswhatittakestosurvive.”
Perhapsanotherteenagegirlwouldhavehatedherfatherforthismoment.Andperhapsthisone,insomeways,did.Perhapsshewouldcarryalittlefragmentofthathatredfortherestofherlife.
Butshealsolovedhimforit.Becausehewasright.Hewasforgingher.Ifshehadlistenedtohimbefore,noneofthiswouldhavehappened.
Shewasnotyetcoldenough,notyetstrongenough.Butshecouldhoneherselfalittlesharpernow,evenifitmeantthrowingherselfupontheunforgivingsteelofherfather’scommand.
Sheswallowed.
Sheliftedthedagger.
Theboyworeathincottonshirt.Itwaseasytoseetheoutlineofhischest.Shepickedhertarget.Slightlytotheleft,justasherfathersaid.
“Youhavetopushhardtomakeitthroughthebreastbone,”thekingsaid.“Harderthanyouthink.”
“Wait—”theboychoked.
Thegirlstruck.
Thekinghadbeenright.She’dhadtopushharderthanshethought.Shefelteverylayerofflesh,hadtofightwiththebladetogetitthrough.Thebloodburstforthfromtheboy’sskinlikeithadbeenwaitingforthismoment.
Bileroseinherthroatasherlovercriedout.Helurched,butthekingheldhisshoulderstight.
Theyoungwomanstartedtoturnherhead,butherfatherhissed,“No.Don’tlookaway,littleserpent.Youlookthemintheeye.”
Sheforcedherselftoobey.Forcedherselftolooktheboyshehadlovedrightintheeyeuntilthelastdregsoflifeseepedfromthem.
Sheheldtighttothathiltlongafterhisheadlolled.Atlast,thekingsteppedback,allowingthebodytofloptothefloor.TheboywasonlyrecentlyTurned.Hisbloodwasredderthanitwasblack.Thecrimsonbloomedoverthemarblelikerosepetalsburstingfromabud.
“Good,”thekingsaid.
Hestrodeaway.Heofferedhisdaughternocomfort,notenderness.Whywouldhe?Theworldwouldofferhernone,either.Sheshouldlearnthis.
Sotheyoungwomanstoodthere,alone,foralongtime.
Strange,thatgirlsaresooftentoldthatthelossoftheirvirginitymarksathresholdbetweengirlhoodandwomanhood,asifitfundamentallyalterstheminsomeway.Itwasnotthesexthatchangedthegirlforever.Notthebloodthatspilledbetweenherthighsthatshapedher.
Thebloodthatspilledoverthatmarblefloor,though…
Thosearethestainsonone’sinnocencethatneverfade.CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
Iinsistedonwalkingbacktotheapartment,eventhoughIcouldbarelymove.WewerefardownthehallbythetimeAngelika,thefourthandfinalcontestant,stumbledthroughthedoortotheMoonPalace.ShemusthaveturnedbackinanattempttofindIvan.Butshehadcomebackalone.HerwordlessscreamhadechoedineverycreviceoftheMoonPalace.
ThatsoundwasamirrortosomethinginsideofmethatIdidn’tknowhowtoacknowledge.
Iclutchedmyabdomen.Bloodbubbledbeneathmyfingers.ButIdidn’tfeelit.IonlyfeltthegrittyashofSalinae—orwhatremainedofit.
IthoughtofthousandsofhumansburninginAsteris’spower.
Ithoughtoftheirlungswitheringinthattoxicsmoke.
IthoughtofalittleboyandalittlegirlthatIonlydistantlyremembered—thatIonlyallowedmyselftodreammightstilllive,somewhere—andtheirbodieslyingdeep,deepbeneaththebonesofawartheywantednopartof.
Raihnclosedthedoorbehindus.Istumbled,nearlyfallingtomyknees,whichseemedtojerkhimbacktothepresent.Heslidhisarmsaroundme.Istiffened.
“Weneedtopatchyouup,”hesaid,beforeIcouldprotest.
Ididn’thaveitinmetofight.Hepickedmeup,broughtmetomybedroom,andlaymedownonthebed.Thenhewenttoourpacksandrummagedthroughthem.
Istaredattheceiling.Blinked.Sawtheruinsonthebacksofmyeyelids.
Gone.Gone.Gone.
“Wehaveenoughmedicineforthis,”Raihnsaid,soundinggratefultohavebothgoodnewsanddistraction.Hereturned,satbesidemeonthebed,andpouredthepotionovermyabdomen.Ididn’tflinchasmyopenwoundhissedandbubbled,fleshmeldingtoflesh.
IknewRaihn’sgriefwaseverythingminewas.Everythingandmore.Iwantedtoputmyhandoverthatwoundinhisheart,evenwhenmyownthreatenedtotearmeapart.
Whenhesetasidetheglassbottle,Iletmyhandfalloverhis.Itnowfeltsofamiliarbeneathmine,knobbyjointsandscarsandthecoarsesuggestionofhairoverthebackofhishand.
Atfirsthedidn’tmove.Thenheslowlyflippedhispalmup,closedhisfingersaroundmine,andcircledhisthumbovermyskin.
Justasintimateashislipsonmyneck.
IwantedtotellhimIwassorry.Sorryforwhatmyfatherhaddonetobothofourpeoples.
Thisiswar,Vincentwhisperedinmyear.Powerdemandsruthlessness.Whatdidyouexpectmetodo?Ourheartsbleedblack
Andtheworstthingwas,Iunderstoodit.Iunderstoodit,andstillhatedit
“IalmostsentMischethere,”Raihnsaid.“Twoweekslater,andshemighthavebeenthere.”
Thethoughtsickenedmeevenmore.
Ifeltthebedspreadshift,hisotherhandclosingintoafist.
“Yourfather,”hehissed,“isafuckingmonster.”
Foramoment,Iagreed.Butjustasquickly,awaveofashameddenialroseuptocombatit.
Ihadtobemissingsomething.Vincentwouldn’tdoitunlesshehadnochoice.NotunlesstheRishanhadalreadydonesomethingworse,orweregoingto.
Hewouldn’tdothattome.NotknowingwhatIwasgoingtogodo.NotknowingwhyIwasinthisdamnedtournamentatall.
Hewouldn’t.
“Theremustbeareason.Hemusthavehadnochoice.”
Ihatedthewaythewordstasted.Hatedmyselfforevensayingthem.
Raihn’svoicewascoldandhard.“Fivehundredthousandpeople.Halfamillionlives.Idon’tgiveafuckwhatreasonhemighthave.Whatexplanationcouldmakethatacceptable?”
None.Therewasnone.
“Wedon’tknowwhathappened.”
“Iknowenough,”hesnapped.“Isawtheruins.Icouldsmellthebonesinthatdust.That’senough,Oraya.Thatisenough.”
MyfingernailswerebitingintoRaihn’sskin,myknucklestrembling.MyjawachedbecauseIwasclenchingitsohard.
Andwhenavoiceinmyheadwhispered,He’sright.Isn’tthatenough?
Itwasn’tVincent’svoice.
Itwasmine.
Thelinebetweenangerandsadnessissothin.Ihadlearnedthatfearcanbecomerage,butragecansoeasilyshatterintodevastation.Thefracturesspiderwebbedacrossmyheart.
“TherehastobesomethingI’mnotseeing.Hecouldn’thave—Hewouldn’t—”
“Whynot?”Raihnspat,mouthcurledintoasneerofhatred.“Rishanlives.Humanlives.Whatthehellarethoseworthtohim?Whyisthatsohardforyoutobelieve?”
“BecauseIwasgoingbackforthem.”Ididn’tmeantosayitaloud.Butthewordsweretooclosetothesurface,readytospillforth.“Becauseheknew.WhenIbecamehisCoriatae,Iwasgoingtogoback,andheknewI—”
Raihnwentstill.Hisgriptightenedaroundmyhand,thenreleasedabruptlyashestood,rod-straight.
“Coriatae?”hesaid,calmly.
Myjawsnappedshut.
Donot,Vincentwhisperedinmyear,tellhimthis.
ButIhadalreadyletRaihnseetoomuch.AsIalwayshad.Ashealwaysdid.Andhecouldnotun-hearwhatIsaid,whatIhadjustshownhimthistime.
“Coriatae?”Hisvoicehadthesamedangertoitasthesoundofabladebeingpulledfromascabbard.“YouweregoingtoaskNyaxiaforaCoriatisbond?”
Judgmentbitintoeverysyllable,asharpprodtoallmyweepingwounds.
“I’mnotstrongenoughtogoasIamnow,”Isnapped.“AndheknewthataswellasIdid.”
Raihnonlylaughed,darkandhumorless.“AfuckingCoriatisbond.YouweregoingtobecomeVincent’sCoriataeandmarchintoSalinaetoliberateyourhumankin.Youweregoingtobindyourselftohimsoyoucouldgobeahero.”
Washemockingme?Orwasthedreamsooutlandishthatthewordsjustsoundedlikeamockeryaloud?
Isaid,“Wealldowhatwehaveto—”
“You’retoodamnedsmartforthis,Oraya.DoyouknowhowmanyhumanswereleftinSalinae?Almostnone.Becauseyourfatherhadbeentakingthem,justlikehetookallofSalinae’sresources,forthelasttwentyfuckingyears.”
Resources.Likehumanswerefruitorgrain.
No.Thatwasn’ttrue.
“Rishanterritorywasprotected.Hecouldn’t—”
“Protected,”Raihnspat.“Likethehumandistrictsare‘protected?”
Thetruthofhiswordsslippedthroughtheplatesofmyarmorlikeatoo-sharpblade.
Whenmyfingerstightened,IcouldfeelthatgrittyashofwhathadoncebeenSalinaeagainstmypalms.
IhadneverseenRaihnlikethis.Hisragepulledtauteverylineofhisform.Itwasn’tlikewhenI’dseenhiminabloodlust—thathadbeenunnerving,butthiswaspetrifying.He’djustgoneutterlystill,everyangleofhisbodyrigid,evenhisbreathingtoo-steady.Likeeverythreadofmuscleneededtouniteagainstholdingbackwhateverwildthingthrashedwithin,visibleonlyintherisingfireofhisrust-redeyes.
“HesentyouintotheKejari,”hesaid,“withapromiseofbeingahero,allsohecouldfuckinguseyou?That’swhatthisisfor?”
He’smakingyoudothis,Ilanahadtoldme.
Iwasso,soangryatVincent.MoreangrythanIhadeverbeen.Yet,soquicklyIjumpedtohisdefense,likeeveryattackagainsthischaracterstruckme,too.
Ileapttomyfeet,rewardedbyastabofpaininmyfreshlyhealedabdomen.“Useme?”Iscoffed.“He’sgivingmehispower.Givingme—”
“Youcannotpossiblybethisnaive.Givingyouhispowerandtakingyours.Makingadealwithagoddesssoyoucanneverhurthim.Neveractagainsthim.Andsendingyouintothisdepravedcesspittodoit.Whatasaintly,lovingfather—”
MyweaponswereoutbeforeIcouldevenstopmyself.“Enough,”Ihissed.“Enough.”
Vincenthadgivenmeeverything.
Hehadtakenmeinwhenheneverhadto.Hehadcaredformewhennooneelsedid.Hehadmademeastrongerversionofmyself,evenwhenIdidn’twanttobe.Hehadturnedmeintosomethingworthfearing.
Andaboveall,hehadlovedme.
Iknewthis.TherewasnothingRaihncouldsaytoconvincemethathedidn’t.Vincent’slovewastruthlikethemoonwastruth.
Raihndidn’tevenlookatmyblades.Hiseyesonlymetmine.Hetookonestepcloser.“Hekilledthemall,”hesaidquietly—andjustforafracturedmoment,therageinhiseyesshatteredtogrief.GrieffortheRishan,hispeople.Griefforthehumans,mine.Andgriefforme.“Hekilledallofthem.Theywerenothingtohimbuttoolsorobstacles.Itdoesn’tmatterwhathepromisedyou.Whathetoldyou.Thatisthetruth.”
ThesightofRaihn’ssadnesshittoodeep.Ishookmyhead,thewordsstickinginmythroat.
“Youneedtoaskyourselfsomehardquestions.Whyisheafraidofyou,Oraya?Whatdoeshegetfromthis?”
Afraidofme.Bullshit.WhatcouldVincenteverhopetogainfromme?Whatcouldthisplanbeotherthanagestureofhislove—tomakemeeverybitasstrongandpowerfulashewas?Iwasahuman.Ihadnothingtoofferhim.
YetRaihn’sconcernforme,toorawtobefalse,hittheplacesIcouldnotprotect.Hishandlifted,asiftobrushmycheek.Apartofmelongedforthattouch.Longedtoletmyselffallapartandlethimkeepmetogether.
Instead,Ijerkedaway.
“Ican’t,”Ichokedout—eventhoughIknewhedeservedmore.“I—Ijustcan’t.”
Ithrewthedooropen,andheletmego.
Hedidn’tcomeaftermeasIwalkeddownthehall,eachstepfastandpurposeful.IkeptgoinguntilIlefttheMoonPalace.AndIkeptgoingstraightpastVincent’smeetingplace.
No,Iwasdonewaitingformyfathertocometome.Donewaitingtomeetonhisterms.
Thistime,Iwasgoingtohim.
Iwalked,andwalked,andwalked,untilIreachedVincent’scastle.CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
Hadthecastlechanged,orhadI?
Before,thisplacehadalwaysmademefeelsosmall,likeIwastooweakandimpermanenttolivesomewhereofsuchgrand,enduringstrength.ButmaybeI’dmistakenbrutalityforstrengthandstagnancyforagelessness.
How,exactly,hadInotnoticedthatitselegantscentofrosewasjustalittlerancid?HowhadInotnoticedthatitmaskedthesoursmellofrottingblood,likethewholedamnedbuildinghadbeensoakedinit?Theflowersthatadornedeverytablewerewitheredattheedges,thewallpaperstainedwithfaintdeath-brownbloomsofoldblood,theplastercrackedwiththestressfracturesofakingdomthathadgottentooheavy.
Thereweremanyvampireshere,farmorethanIwasaccustomedtoseeingroamingthehalls.AllVincent’swarriors.Itwaswartime,afterall.TheystoppedtostareatmeasIpassed.Ididn’tevennoticeiftheirnostrilstwitched.Didn’tevengiveafuckiftheydid.
I’dneveroncegonetoVincent’sofficewithoutbeinginvited.Now,Ididn’tevenknockasIthrewopenthedoor.
Jesminewasthere,armsfoldedandred-tippedfingersplayingthoughtfullyatred-paintedlipsassheobservedamilitarymappinnedtothewall.Heramethysteyesslidtomeandshonewithcuriosity.
“Oraya.Howlovelyto—”
“Whereishe.”
Ademand,notaquestion.
Herperfectlipsclosed.Theonlysignofsurprise.“Meetings.Busytimes,asyou—”
“Where?”
“He’llbedone—”
“Ineedtospeaktohimnow,Jesmine.Tellmewhereorgogethimforme.”
Herflickerofannoyancebecameaflameofirritation.Shelookedlikeshewasrunningtwocalculationsinherhead,thefirstbeing,“ShouldIkillOrayatoday?”andthesecondbeing,“Doesshe,asVincent’sdaughter,outrankme,ashisgeneral?”
“Idon’twanttofightwithyou,”Ispat.“Ifyouwantto,itwon’tendwellforeitherofus,butI’lldoit.Sowhichisit?”
Apparently,shedecidedthattheanswertothesecondquestionwastooclosetocall,andthusdecidedthattheanswertothefirstwas,Nottoday.Shesaid,“I’mtheking’schiefgeneral,nothiserrandgirl,butI’llindulgeyou,”andlefttheroom.
Iwaited.Vincent’sofficewasusuallymeticulouslyneat,buttonight,itwasamess—openbooksandpapersandmapseverywhere,allspatteredwithblackandred.Myhandswereshaking.Shakingwithanger?Withgrief?Ormaybewithfear.NotofVincent,butofwhathemightsaytome.
Thedooropened.
Vincentcamealone.Hisclothingwasmoredisheveledthanusual,thecollarofhisjacketcrumpledononeside,hissleevespusheduptohiselbows.Afewstrandsoffairhairfellintohisface.HisHeirMarkpulsedataslightlyfasterratethanbefore,asifhisslowheartbeathadquickenedabeatsinceI’dlastseenhim.
Heclosedthedoorbehindhimandstoodbeforeitforalongmoment,juststaringatme.
IknewhowtoreadVincentbynow,andIknewthathisannoyancefoughtwithhisrelief—asifVincentthekingandVincentthefatherwagedasilentbattlebehindhiseyes.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”hesaid.
ThatwasVincenttheking.
“YoumadeitbackfromtheCrescenttrial.”
Andthat—thatthankfulexhale—wasVincentthefather.Hesteppedcloser,astrangeuncertaintyflickeringoverhisface.Maybehesawthedifferenceinmyexpression,too.
“Salinae.”Myvoicewashardandtoorough.“YoudestroyedSalinae.”
Ahintofconfusion.“I—”
“Isawit.Itwasthelocationofthefourthtrial.”
Hetriedtohidehiswince.Icouldpracticallyhearhimutterthecurse:Nyaxiaandherfuckingsenseofhumor.
Andyetthatlittleflinch,theexpressionhemostlysucceededathiding,hurtthemost,becauseitconfirmedwhatIdidn’twanttobelieve.
Iletoutapained,uglylaugh.“Youweren’tgoingtotellme.”
Andwhywouldn’thehideit?JustafewweeksuntilIwasoutoftheKejari,onewayoranother.Iwasisolated.HethoughtIdidn’tevenspendtimewiththeothercontestants.
“Ihavetomakedifficultdecisions,”Vincentsaid.“Thisiswar.TheRishanwereathreat.Theyattackedoureasternoutposts.Ineededastrong—”
“Youweregoingtoletmebelievethattheywerestilloutthere.ThatIcouldstillgoafterthem.”
Wasitbetterorworsethathedidn’tevendenyit?“Therewasnouseinyouknowingthetruth.”
“Justliketherewasnouseinkeepingthemalive?Easiertojustkillthemall?”
Hisfacehardened.
Vincentthefathersteppedback.Vincentthekingsteppedcloser.
“ThedecisionsthatImakeformypeopleandmykingdomarebeyondyourjudgment.”
“Foryourpeople?”
IwasluckyIwasdrunkonmyownangerandhurt,orelseIneverwouldhavebeenabletospeaktohimthisway.Evennow,theshockonhisfacehadapartofmeshrinkingback.ButanotherpartofmelikeditthesamewayIlikeditwhenmybladehitamark.
“Whoareyourpeople,exactly?”Isnapped.“Aretheytheoneswhoseashesareinthatcity?Thoseweremypeople,Vincent.AndI—”
“Ididwhatwasrightformykingdom.”
“Salinaeispartofyourkingdom.Halfamillionpeople.Icouldhavebeenoneofthem.Itcouldhavebeenmeinthoseslums—”
“Itwasnevergoingtobeyou.”
Healwayssaidthat.Buthowcouldhenotunderstand?Itwaspurechancethatbroughtmetohimthatnight,allthoseyearsago.Thefibersoffatetwistadifferentway,andInevermakeithereatall.
“Iamhuman,Vincent.Iamhuman.”Isaidittwice,justbecauseheneverlikedtohearit,neverlikedtoacknowledgeit.“IwasborninSalinae,tohumanparents,toafamilywho—”
Vincent’srestraintrarelybuckled.Now,itoutrightshattered,thewaveofhistemperunleashed.
“Family.Whatdoesthatwordmean?Thatyouwereyankedfrombetweenhumanlegs?Youdon’tevenrememberthem.Iftheyhadlived,theywouldnotrememberyou.Perhapsthey’dbegratefulyouweregone.Whatwouldyouhavebeentothem?Anotherunwantedchildtokeepalive?Ormaybeanotherlostonetogrieve,whentheworldinevitablycrushedyou.”
Eachwordburieddeepinmychest,skeweringanotherunspokenfear.
Hislipcurledwithdisgust.“Andyetthisisyourdream?Thisisthelifeyoulongfor?Andwhatdoesthatmakeme?Thecruelmanwhorippedyouawayfrom—what,thisgreatlifeoflove?Isthathowyouseeme?Asacaptor?”
Iswallowedawrithingtwistofguilt.Eventhroughmyanger,myimpulsewastoapologizetohim—No,I’msorry,thatisn’twhatImeant.IloveyouandI’mgratefulandthankyouforsavingme.
Butthen,hestrodetothedoorandthrewitopensohardthatthesilverknobsbangedagainstthewall.“Look,”hesnarled.
Hegrabbedmywristanddraggedmedownthehalltotherailingthatoverlookedthefeasthall.Itwascrowded,busywithmenandwomenwearingthedeepvioletuniformsofVincent’sHiajarmy.Longtablesweresetupbelow,dottedwithoverflowingplates.Mostoftheplateswereuntouched,though.Becauseinstead,thewarriorsfedonthehumans.
Therewereadozeninthatroomalone.Somelyingonthetable,headslolling,barelyconscious.Afew,clearlydrained,slumpeddiscardedagainstwalls.Somehadbeenboundtothetablewithrope.Oneman,whomusthavestruggledfiercely,waspinnedtothetablewithdaggerspiercinghisflesh.
Mychestburned.Stomachchurned.Icouldn’tbreathe.Evenswallowingwouldmakemevomit.Howlong?Howlonghadhebeendoingthis?Iwantedtodenyit.WantedtopretendIdidn’tseeit.ThisbrutalitywassomuchworsethananythingIhadwitnessedinthiscastlebefore.
Butitmadesense,didn’tit?Howdoesonefeedoneofthebiggestarmiesintheworld?Howdoesonekeepmoraleupwhenwaginganendlesswar?Howdoesoneenticewarriorswhovaluenothingmorethanblood?
Aniceperkofwartime,isn’tit?Endlessdeath.
Andperhapsitdidnothappenoutintheopenlikethisbefore.Butmaybe,likesomuchelse,ithadrottedbeneaththesurface,andIhadchosennottoseeit.
“Look,Oraya.”Vincent’sfingernailsbruisedmyarm.“Lookatthem.Thesearen’tpeople.Theyarelivestock.Youneverwouldhaveallowedyourselftobeoneofthem,becauseyouarebetterthanthem.Imadeyoubetter.Igaveyouteethandclaws.Imadeyourheartsteel.Donotpitythem.Theyarelessthanyou.”
Icouldn’ttearmygazefromthehumansbelow.Theirbloodranoverthetablesinriversofcrimson.
Hewasright.Iwouldneverbehumanliketheywere.JustasIwouldneverbehumanlikethepeopleIsavedintheslums,ortheoneswhooccupiedthepubIwenttowithRaihn.
JustasIneverwouldbeashumanasIlana.
Andmaybethatwasablessinginsomeways.Acurseinothers.MaybeVincenthadstolensomethingpreciousfrommeashestrippedawaymyhumanity.
AndI’dfuckinglethim.
Notonlythat,butI’ddonesuchawonderfuljobdeceivinghimthathethoughtIwouldseewhathedidwhenheshowedmethisseaofsavagery.
Myeyesstung.Iwrenchedmyhandfromhisgrip,turningawayfromthefeastandretreatingdownthehall.“Youliedtome.”
“Iindulgedyourchildhoodfantasies,knowingthatonedayyou’dgrowpastthem.”
HethoughtIwouldbecomelikehim,andIwouldnolongercare,justashenolongercared.Buthewaswrong.IthoughtofRaihn,whohadbeenavampireformorethantwohundredyearsandyetstillsoclearlymournedhishumanitywitheveryheartbeat.
Suddenly,Imournedmyhumanity,too.ImourneditthewayImournedIlana.
IstoppedshortjustwithinVincent’sofficedoor.Iturnedtohim,letoutatremblingbreath.
“WhydoyouwantmetobeyourCoriatae?”Iasked.
Iknewtheanswer.VincentwantedmeintheKejari,wantedmetobecomehisCoriatae,becauseitwastheonlywaytoturnmeintosomethingacceptableforhimtolove.
Myfatherlovedme.Iknewthis.ButhelovedmeinspiteofwhatIwas.Lovedthepartsofmethathecouldmakelikehim.
Vincent’sjawtightened.Again,aglimpseofthesilentbattlebetweenkingandfather.Heclosedthedoorbehindusandleanedagainstit.“BecauseIwantyoutofulfillyourgreatestpotential,”hesaid,atlast.“Iwantyoutobestrong.Iwantyoutobepowerful.AndIwant—Iwantyoutobemydaughter.Ineverysense.Becauseyouaremorelikemethanyoueverhavebeenlikethem,littleserpent.”
Hewasright,andIhatedit.
Myvoicewasstrangled,onthevergeofbreaking.“Today,Iamashamedofthat.”
ThewordshitVincentlikeablowtohisheart.Hurtcareenedacrosshisfaceforasplitsecond,replacedimmediatelybyice-frigidanger.
Vincentthefatherdisappeared.
Vincentthekingapproachedme,ragerisinginhissilvereyeswitheveryslow,predatorystep.
“Ashamed?”hesaidquietly.“Ashamed?Igaveyoueverything.Imadeyouallthatyouare.Icouldhavekilledyou.ManysaidIshouldhave.Andyou…yousaythatyouareashamedofme?”
Iwasadecentfighter,butnoonewasasgoodasVincent.Whenhegrabbedmyarm,Ididn’thavetimetomove.AndIwastooshockedto,anyway,whenhewrenchedit,hard,andslammedmeagainstthewall.HewassoclosethatIcouldseeeverypulsinglineofhisHeirMark,everyglowingwispofmagicunfurlingfromeachstrokeofink,justasharshasthehatefullinesonhisface.
“Whatwouldyouratherbe,then,ifyoudon’twanttobemydaughter?”Hisfingernailsbitintomyskin,tighter,tighter—drawingblood.“Doyouwanttobemyenemy,instead?Isthatwhatyou’dprefer?”
Ihadnever,everbeenafraidofVincentbefore.Iwasnow.
Becausenow,hedidn’tlookatmelikeIwashisdaughter.Hedidn’tevenlookatmelikeIwashuman.No,thiswasworse.
HelookedatmelikeIwasathreat.
“Letmego,Vincent.”Itriedtokeepthewaverfrommyvoiceandfailed.“Letmego.”
Butmaybethewaversavedme,becauseVincentthekingdisappearedallatonce,andVincentthefatherwasappalledwithhimself.
Awaveofhorrorfelloverhisface.Helookeddownathisownhand,wrappedtightaroundmyarm,redbloodandpurplebruisespearlingathisgrip.
Hereleasedmeandtookseveralstepsback.Heranhishandthroughhishair.
Hewasshaking.
“Oraya,I—I—”
Hewouldn’tsayhewassorry.TheNightbornKingapologizedtonoone.Andifhewasgoingto,Ididn’twanttohearit.Ididn’twanttohearanythinghehadtosayeveragain.
ApartofmethoughthewouldstopmeasIthrewopenthedoor.
Buthedidn’t.
***
Thereweremoreoutherethanevernow.WithRaihnandIunabletocometothehumandistrictssincetheHalfmoon,theplacewascrawlingwithvampires.Theywerelazy.Easytokill.
Before,I’dfoundthissatisfying.AtleastIcouldeasetheunpleasantthoughtsinmyheadwiththeplungeofabladeintoachestoverandoveragain.Now,itjustmademeangrier.Theythoughtsofuckinglittleofusthattheydidn’teventhinktheyneededtobecareful.WhateverjoyIfoundinthedyinglightoftheireyeswasfleeting,eachoneaweakerrushthanthelast.
IkilledmyfourthforthenightinanalleywayclosetothepubthatRaihnandIwouldfrequent.Ithadbeenaverylongnight.Itwasprobablyclosetodawn.
Icouldn’tbringmyselftocare.Notaboutanyofit.
Ididn’ttoywiththisone.Iwentstraightfortheheart.Hewassoafraidthathepissedhimselfintheend.Isteppedslightlytothelefttoavoidthepuddleathisfeet.
He’dbeengoingforachild.Alittlegirl.Hewaspreparingtogothroughthewindowforher.Thatwasrare.Ididn’toftenseethemreadytocrawlintohousesfortheirprey.
Thebodysanktotheground.Ikneeledoverhimashelaylimpinthedirt,readytopullmybladeout.
Hethoughthewasentitledtothesepeople.Theirhousesweren’thomes,justdenstoberootedout.Chickencoopstostickhishandsintoandpulloutwhateverhewanted.Maybethehazeofdeathovertheserecentweekshadmadethembelievethattherewasnosuchthingasprotection,nosuchthingasconsequences.
Theyarelivestock,Vincenthadhissedatme.
Onlynowdiditoccurtomethatmaybethat’sexactlywhathumansherewere.Thehumandistrictsweren’tforprotection.Theywerebreedinggrounds.BecauseitwouldbeafuckingshameifnomorehumanslivedintheHouseofNight,wouldn’tit?Justthinkofallthatblood.
Myknuckleswerewhitearoundthehandleofmyblade,whichstillprotrudedfrommyvictim’schest.
Thispieceofshitfeltitforfiveseconds.Forfivesecondsinalifetimeofcenturies,hefeltthatpowerlessness.Whenithadbeenbredintous,tattooedintooursouls,forourentirebriefpitifulexistences.
Iwasdonehatingmyselfforallmyhumanweaknesses.
No,Ihatedthemforit.
Ipulledoutmydagger,butinsteadofsheathingit,Ibroughtitdownagain.Flecksofblackbloodspatteredmyface.Withdrew.Again.Again.Again.Eachstrikemetlessresistanceasbonescrackedandfleshparted.
Ihatedthem,Ihatedthem,IHATEDTHEMIHATED—
“Oraya!Stop!”
Themomentthehandstouchedmyshoulders,Iwhirled,lashingoutbeforeIcouldstopmyself.
Icameintothisworldfighting.I’dleaveitfighting.AndI’dfighttocovereverysoftspotorvulnerability,andrightnow,Ifeltasifmyentirebody—myentiresoul—wasarawwoundtobeprotected.
Iwantedtofight.
Butofcourse,Raihnknewthat.Andofcourse,heknewmewellenoughtocountermyeverymove,untilfinallymybackhitthewall,myarminhisgrasp.
Hebentoverme,onehandtothewallovermyshoulder,theotherholdingmyarm,firmlybutgently.
Thereliefinhisgazeshookme.Hejerkedhisheadtothebody,nowlittlemorethanbloodypulp.“Iappreciateyourthoroughness,butIthinkhe’sdead.”
Hiseyessoftenedastheyflickedbacktome.
Ireallydidtrynottonotice,orcare,thattheydrankmeinthesamewayhedrankinsunshine.
“It’salmostdawn,”hesaid.“I’vebeenlookingforyoueverywhere.”
Hedidn’task,Areyoualright?
ButIhearditinhistone,anyway.
Iwasnotalright.Ididn’twantsuchsoftness.ItproddedtooclosetoeverythingIwastryingtoprotect.
Hisfingersshifted,encroachingonthemarksthatVincent’snailshadleftonmyarm.Theyhurtmorethanawoundsosmallshouldhave.Iwincedslightly—barelyatwitch—butRaihnstillsawit.Hisgazefelltomyarm.Hardened.
“Wheredidthiscomefrom?”
“Whatdoesitmatter?”
“Itmatters.Him?”
Ihesitatedamomenttoolongbeforesaying,“Somepieceofshitintheslums.”
“Bullshit.”
Hislipcurled.Purehatred.AsifthosefewlittlebloodymarkswerejustasgreatofacrimeasthedestructionofSalinae.
Ihatedthat.
Ididn’tdeservetobedefendedthatway.Andstill—despiteeverything—Ihatedtoseethedisgustonhisface.IwasoffendedonVincent’sbehalf.
Iyankedmyarmaway.“You’vedoneworsetomeyourself.I’mnotaprincesstobeprotected.Nomatterwhatyouliketocallme.”
“Iknow.”
Twowords,andyet,somuchjudgmentinthatexpressivefaceofhis.Iknewhowtoseethroughallthemasksnow,andbeneathit,everythingwasalwayslaidoutbare.Toobare.
“Stop,”Ihissed.
“Stopwhat?”
“Don’tlookatmethatway.”
“HowamIlookingatyou?”
Ipushedpasthim.Ididn’tknowhowtoanswerthat.Toomanyways.IsawmultitudesinRaihn’seyeswhenhelookedatme.
“Likeyoupityme.”
Hescoffed.Irefusedtolookathim,butIcouldhearthetwistofasneeronhislips.“YouthinkIpityyou?Idon’tpityyou,Oraya.Ijustthinkyoudeservebetter.”
Thatsoundedahellofalotlikepitytome.Andifitwasn’tpity,itwassomethingelse—somethingmorereal—andthat,Ihatedevenmore.
Iwhirledaround.“Whyareyouhere?”
Mytonewasdownrightvitriolic.Itwasundeserved.Hehaddonenothingbutbekindtome.ButIonlyknewhowtofight.
Still,thehurtonhisfacedisarmedme.Thenhisjawwenttight.“Iknowwhatthisis,andI’mnotdoingthiswithyou.IfyouwanttogetkickedoutoftheKejaribecauseyoudon’tmakeitbacktotheMoonPalacebeforedawn,fine.I’llletyou.”
“Good.It’llbeeasierforyou.MaybeyoudeservethewinmorethanIdo,anyway.Whydoyoucare?”
Raihnhadalreadystartedtowalkaway.Myvoicewasweakerthanithadbeen.Thelookofhurtonhisfacehadsappedthevenomfrommybite.NowIwasthatlittlechildalloveragain,lashingoutatmonsterswithfeeble,humanteeth.
Hestopped.Turnedbackslowly.“WhydoIcare?”herepeated,indignant.
Thethingwas,Iknewitwasaridiculousquestion.Anditshouldn’thavebeen,becauseRaihnhadeveryreasontojustletmespiralandgetmyselfdisqualifiedorkilled.Iwashisenemyineverysenseoftheword—thedaughterofthekinghehated,raisedintheclanthatdestroyedhis,rivaltoatitlethatonlyonecouldwin.
Hetookastepcloser,unblinking.“WhydoIcare?”herasped,again.“Areyouafuckingfool,Oraya?”
Iwasn’texpectingthedesperationinhisvoice.Likehewaspleadingforhelp.
Hescoffed.“OrmaybeIam.”
No.Webothwere.
BecauseIknewexactlywhyRaihncared.AndIknewthatIcaredinallthesameways.Ididn’tbreathe.Iletmybladeslidebackintoitssheath.
No,aweaponcouldn’tprotectmefromthis.Iwasn’tsureifIwanteditto,anymore,eventhoughmyheartwasopenandbleedingandsoverypitifully,humanlydelicate.
Still,asthemoonlightfelloverhisface,Idrankineveryangleofit.Ihadcometoknowitsowell,andyetIdiscoveredsomethingnewandcaptivatinginiteverytimeIlookedathim.Now,somuchofitheldpainandgrief.
Iachedforhim.AndIwasso,sotiredofloss.
Iwasn’tsurewhatIintendedtodoorsaywhenIapproachedhim.
ButIthrewmyarmsaroundhisneckandkissedhim.CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR
RaihnmetmykisswithsomuchfervorthatIfoundmyselfquestioningwhichofushadmovedfirst.Hisarmsfoldedaroundme,pullingmeflushagainsthim,andthetwoofusstumbleduntilmybackhitthewall.Hismouthsoughtminelikehewantedtolearneverypartofme—claimingmylips,topandthenbottom,histonguewarmandsoftanddemandingandgiving.
Agroanrosefromdeepinhisthroat—itshudderedthroughmyentirebody.Iwaspinnedbetweenhimandthewall.Hishandrandownmyside,andIleanedintothattouch.Notenough.Still,notenough.Whateversparkwehadignitedinthecavehadn’tbeenputout,onlydampened.Itroaredbacktolifehotteranddeadlierthanbefore.Andrightnow,Iwantednothingmorethantoburnaliveinit.
Thehandthatsliddownmysidekeptgoing,flatteningaroundmyhip,thenmybackside,andthensuddenlymylegswerelifted,partedaroundhiships,andthehardpressofhimbetweenmythighsmademybreathhitch.
Fuck.Ineededmorethanthis,thistime.Neededlessbetweenus.IneededitsobadlyIdidn’tevencarethatitmeantexposingmyselftohim,too.
Hiskissslowed,deepened,shiftingfromfrantictotender.
Ipressedmyhandbetweenus,downhisabdomen,downtothestifflengthofhimpressingathispants.
Anothergroan.Hislipssmiledagainstmine.
“Careful,princess.”
Ikissedhim—kissedthatsmile—becausetheideaofnotdoingsoseemedsacrilegious.
“Why?”
“BecauseIdon’twanttofuckyouforthefirsttimeinanalleywaythreefeetfromapileofentrails.”
Icouldn’targuewiththat.Evenif,embarrassingly,apartofmewantedhimsomuchthatIwouldhavedoneithere,justtoburymyselfinadifferentprimalpleasure.Firstblood,thensex.MaybeIwasmorevampirethanIthought,afterall.
Butthenhisfreehandcradledmycheek.Hisnextkisswasdifferent—gentle.Itremindedmeofthewayhehadkissedmythroatinthecave.Likehecherishedme.
Mychesttightened.Therewasnothingvampiricaboutthat.Nothingcarnalandcold.
“Oraya,lookatme.”
Iopenedmyeyes.Ournosestouched.Themoonlightilluminatedeverylittlescaronhisskin.Hispupilswereslightlyslittedagainstit,theringaroundthemalmostvioletbeneaththecoldnessofthelight.
“Givemeonehonestthing,”hemurmured.
Onehonestthing.
ThemostterriblehonestthingofallwasthatwithRaihn,itwasallhonest—italwayshadbeen.Hesawtoomuchofme.Understoodeverycomplexityandsenselessduality.IwashonestevenwhenIdidn’tmeantobe.Hedidnotfearmydarkness,norpitymycompassion.
Andthetruthwas,theideaofdyingwithoutknowinghimcompletelywastorturous.
HowcouldIsayanyofthis?Didhewantthatkindofhonesty?WasIevencapableofwrenchingitfrommybleedingsoulwithoutunravelingallmystitches?
“We’llprobablydietomorrow,”Isaid.“Showmesomethingworthlivingfor.”
Amomentarypause,asifsomethingaboutthisresponsehadhurt.Thenafaintcurltohislips.
“Pressure.”Hekissedmeagain—thistimenotademand,butapromise.“IthinkI’muptoit,though.We’llfly.Weneedtobeatthedawn.”
***
Raihnstolekissesfrommeasweflew,aswemadeitintotheMoonPalacejustintimeforthesuntocrestthehorizon.Theyweresweetandtender,punctuatedwithlittlegrazesofhisteeththatpromisedtheharderedgetoourmorning.Bythetimewereturnedtotheapartment,myheartwasbeatingfastbehindmyribs,mybreathrapid.Ifeltoddlydizzy—everysensedulledbytheintensityofmywantandsharpwithanticipationofwhatitmightbeliketofulfillit.Ihadn’tevenbeenabletoadmittomyselfhowmanytimes,andinwhatgreatdetail,IhadimaginedwhatitmightbeliketotasteRaihn,totouchhim,tofeelhiminsideofme.
Butreality,ofcourse,wasdifferentthanfantasies.Moretreacherous,andmoreexhilarating.
Thedoorclosed.Ileanedagainstthewall,watchingRaihnasheboltedit.Eventheflexofthemusclesofhisforearmwasbeautiful,eachtendonworkinglikeastringinanorchestra,elegantandgraceful.
Itwasalmostembarrassing,howstunningIfoundhim.
Hefinishedlockingthedoorandturnedtome.Foralongmoment,hesaidnothing.IwonderedifhewasthinkingeverythingthatIwas.Imaginingwhatwemightdowithourfinalnightwitheachother.
Final.
Mother,howIhadavoidedthinkingaboutthatword.Everythingthathadhappenedovertheselastfewdayshadchaseditfrommymind.Butthetruthwasunavoidable.
Thelasttrialwastomorrownight.
RaihnandIwerebothfinalists.
Itwasvery,veryrarethatmorethanonecontestantsurvivedtheKejari.
Raihnwasthefirsttobreakoursuspendedstillness.Heapproachedme,fingertipsrunningdownthebridgeofmynose,thenmymouth,thenmyjaw.
“What’sthatfacefor,princess?”
Icouldnotlietohim.
SoinsteadIsaid,“Kissme.”
And—Nyaxiafuckingblesshim—hedid.
Icouldmeltunderthiskiss.Iwantedtowindmyselfaroundhimthewayivyclaimsstone.Iopenedmylipstohim,encircledmyarmsaroundhisneck.Hisfingersclenchedaroundmyhair,pullingjustabit.
Hishandpausedthere,thumbrubbingmyhair,kissslowing,andIwonderedifhewasthinkingaboutit,too—thinkingaboutthenightofthefeast,andmyhairaroundhisfingers.
Ididn’twanthimtoletmegothen,either.MaybeIrealizedinthatmomentthatIneverwould,evenifIwastooterrifiedtoadmititthen.
MaybeIwastooterrifiedtoadmititnow,too.
Myteethclosedaroundhislip,coaxingasatisfyinghissfromhisthroat.Hishandsroamedovermybody—downmyback,cuppingmybackside,lingeringatmyupperthighs,likehewantedtomemorizetheshapeofme.Hishandsweresolargethatthepressureofhisfingertipsventuredagonizinglyclosetothecoreofmyneed.Stillnotcloseenough.
Hislipsslowlycurled,justashisfingersdid,inchingever-slightlyhigher—deeper.
“Yourarmor’stoothick.”
Whatwasitabouthimthatmademesobold?Ikissedhim,thenslidmyhanddown,overhischest,hisabdomen,downoverhislength.Mother,hewasbig.Eventhroughthelayersofhisclothing,herespondedtomytouchaseasilyasIrespondedtohis.Itwasthemostincredible,powerfulthing,feelinghimtwitchundermyhands.Listeningtothatlittleshudderinhisbreath.
“Yourstoo,”Iwhisperedagainsthislips.
Itshouldhavebeenfrighteningtome,toknowthathewantedmethisfuckingmuch.
Itwasn’t.Instead,itmademyowndesiremaddening.
Hedrewmecloser,hishandtighteninginmyhair,andclaimedmymouthinakisssosuddenandpassionatethateverythingbuthimwitheredaway.Heloweredhimself,releasedmyhairinfavorofcuppingmybacksidewithbothhands,andliftedme.Ikissedhismouth,hisjaw,histhroat,ashecarriedmeintohisroom,andthetwoofusfellontothebed.Hisbroadformcrawledovermine.IfreedmyhandssoIcouldworkathisjacket.Itwasacomplicatedthing,allbuttonsandstraps,andespeciallydifficulttonavigatewhenIwasfeelingaroundblindly.Afterafewseconds,helaughedagainstmylips.
“Havingtrouble?”
Hepulledawayenoughtolookatme—andGoddess,Imournedhismouthalready—butbeforeIcouldcomplain,thebeautyofhimstoppedmeshort.Itwasnowmorning,andthoughthecurtainsweredrawn,thebaresthintofsunshineslippedthroughthefabricandoutlinedhissilhouetteinafaintkissofgold.I’dneverrealizedbeforejusthowmuchredwasinhishair,orinhiswings,whichwerestillout.Itouchedthemwithoutthinking,promptingasharpinhalefromRaihn.TheyweresofterthanIimaginedtheymightbe.
Hegentlypulledmyhandaway.“We’llsavethatforanothertime.”
“Doesit…tickle?”
Hechuckled.“Inaway.”
Ifheexpectedthisanswertodissuademe,itverymuchdidnot.Butdisappointedly,withapuffofsmoke,hiswingsweregone.Andheleaneddownasiftokissmeagain,thenpaused,drinkingmeinthewayIjusthadhim.
Hishandswenttothebuttonofmyarmor.“MayI?”
Iswallowed.
Iwantedthis—Mother,Iwantedit,theslickachebetweenmylegspromisedthat.Yetsomethingaboutthismademestrangelynervous,myheartflutteringagainsttheinsideofmyribslikeacapturedbird.Ididn’twanttofeelthatway.ButthememoryoftheoneandonlytimeIhaddonethisstillseizedme,amapcarvedintomybodythatIcouldn’terase.
“Youfirst,”Iwhispered.
Raihnsatup.Andslowly,buttonbybutton,hisarmorfellopen,sheetsofbattle-wornleatherpartingtorevealthemoststunningbodyIhadeverseen.Asheshiftedthecoatfromhisshoulders,Iwatchedthelightplayoverthesurfaceofhisflesh,andIwasfuckingjealousofit—jealousofthewayitgottopoolinthecrevicesanddips,thewayitkissedtheraisedtextureofhisscars,thewayitshudderedoverdarkhairathischestandbelowhisnavel,disappearingbeneaththelow-slungwaistbandofhistrousers.
Ihadstoppedbreathing.HecaughtmyeyeandsmirkedinaninfuriatingwaythattoldmeheknewexactlywhatIwasthinking.
Oh,fuckhim.
Irolledoffthebedandrose.
“Andwhere,exactly,areyougoing?”heasked.
“Nowhere.”
Istoodwithmybacktohimandworkedatthebuttonsofmyjacket.Thenthelacesofmypants.Iletmyjacketfalltothegroundfirst,thenpeeledoffmytrousers.
Raihnhadshutup.
Iturnedaround.
Hehadgonesostill.Itwasrarethatheembodiedthatstillness—vampirestillness,thekindthatmadetheworldgosilent.Hedrankmein,startingatmyfaceandmovingdown.Icouldfeelthatstareasifitwashistouch—caressingthescarsonmythroat,thecurveofmyclavicle.Icouldfeelitpauseatmybreasts,peakedwithmyarousal,coveredbythetipsofmyblackhair.Itsliddownmystomach,tracedtheangry-pinkslashesfromthetrial.Landedattheapexofmythighs.Hisnostrilsflaredandeyeswenthard,andIwonderedifhecouldsenseit,smellit—howmuchIneededhim.
Whenhiseyescamebacktomine,helookedlikeamanundone.“Comehere,”hewhispered.Pleaded.
Ireturnedtothebed.AndIcouldn’thelpit—themomenthewasinreach,myhandswerealloverhim.Itouchedhimlikethelighthad,tracingeverylineofmuscle,everyscar,everytrailofhair.Hismouthwasonmineimmediately,hishandsonmywaist,mybreasts,makingmegaspwitheverynewexpanseofskin.
“Beautifulisn’tenough,”heraspedashepulledawayfrommymouth.“Fuck,Oraya,you’re—I—”
Hegaveuponwords.Instead,helaymedownandhislipsmovedtomythroat,softovermyflesh.Helingeredatthescarwherehehaddrankfromme—andtheonebeneathit.
Then,slowly,hemoveddown.Hisfingerscircledmybreast,thumbrollingovermynipple.Whenheloweredhisheadtomeandbrushedhistongueoverthatsensitivepeak,myeyesrolledback.
Ididn’tknowitwaspossibletofeelthismuch.Wantthismuch.Ithadn’tbeenlikethislasttime.Butthenagain,we’dbothbeenbarelymorethanchildren.Andithadbeen…
Different.
Ididn’tmeanformythoughtstowandertothatnight.JustasIdidn’tmeanformyfingertipstobrushmythroat,andtheolderscarthere.
Raihnraisedhishead,awrinkleofconcernbetweenhisbrows.
“Don’tstop,”Ibreathed.
Buthejustlookedatme,lipsthin,asifathoughthadjustoccurredtohim
“Ican’tbelieveIdidn’t—Oraya,isthis…isthisyourfirsttime?”
Hedidn’taskitwithanyjudgment,onlygenuineconcern.Hishandfellovermine,histhumbrubbingmypalm.
“No,”Isaid.
Thetruth,eventhoughinsomewaysitfeltlikealie.
Raihn’sstareslippedtomythroat—tothatscar,thesameonehehadkissedinthatcave.
Heknew.Heunderstood.
Hisbreathwaswarmoverthatmark.
“Isthatwhenyougotthis?”
Isqueezedmyeyesshutandwasrewardedwithavividimageofadifferentnight,adifferentman,adifferentbreathonmythroat.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Nobigstory.He…hejustcouldn’tcontrolhimself.”
Raihndidn’tbelievemyforcedindifferenceforasecond.Hislipskissedonesilvery-whitejaggedline,thentheother.Hewithdrew,lookingintomyeyeshard,likehewantedtowatchtomakesureIunderstoodwhathewasabouttosay.
“You’resafe,Oraya.Ineedyoutoknowthat.”
You’resafe.
“Iknow.”AndImeantit.Becausefromthefirsttimehetoldmethosewords,Ibelievedhim.
“Iwantyoutoenjoythis.”Hislipscurled,andheshookhishead,immediatelycorrectinghimself.“No.Morethanthat.Iwantyouto—fuck,therearenowordsforwhatIwant.”
“I’mnotsomenaivevirgin.”
Sure,mylastsexualexperiencehadended…poorly.Butagirlcoulddoaremarkableamountofexperimentationonherself.Still,lookingatRaihn’sbody—lookingatthewayhistrousersstrained—Ihadtoadmitthisseemedlikeitwouldbeverydifferent.
“Oh,Iknow.Noonecouldcallyouashrinkingviolet.”
Hekissedme,longandslow.
“Ijustwantyoutoknow,”hemurmured,againstmymouth,“thatyouareincontrol.Andwecantakeallthetimeweneedtomakesureyou’reready.”
Hisfingertipsbrushedthecurveofmyinnerknee.Mythighsopened,andthattouchwanderedhigher,mybreathgrowingshallowerwitheveryinch.
“Time?”Ibarelymanagedtospeak.“Wehaveonenight,Raihn.Andthenwedie.Soyou’dbetterbeafuckingamazinglay.”
“Oh,don’tyouworry.”Heventuredfartherupmythigh—stillnotashighasIwantedit.Myheartbeatquickenedashislipsmovedslowlyovermine.Whenhisfingertipsbrushedthewetnessofmyfolds,heshudderedtoo,inawaythatIfoundverysatisfying.“I’ve…donealotofthinkingaboutthis.”
DidIimaginehesounded…alittleself-conscious?
“Alotofthinkingaboutyou.”Anotherkiss.“WhatIwoulddotoyou.”Another.“Whatyoumightsoundlike.”Another—andhisfingersagainstrokedtheyearningattheapexofmythighs.“Ihaveallkindsofexperimentstoconduct.”
Hepulledawayfrommeabruptly,hismouthmovingdownmybody.Hekissedmybreast,mystomach,thecrestofmyhip.Andthenhegracefullysteppedbackwardsoffthebed,kneeledbeforeit,andturnedmesothatmylegshungovertheedge—ashepositionedhimselfbetweenthem.
Iproppedmyselfuponmyelbows,watching.Myarousalandmyfearwarredwitheachother.Ifoundmyselfstiffening,suddenlyveryawareofhowexposedIwas.Iwasnaked.Mybladeswereacrosstheroom.AndRaihn—apredator,withabitemuchsharperthanmine—hadmespreadbeforehim,helpless.
Heopenedmythighsalittlemore,asifhewantedtoobservemoreofme.Thesightofhimthere,kneelingbetweenmylegs,madesomethingprimalwithinmeflutterwithdesire.
Hisgazedraggedbackuptomine,reluctantly,asifhehadtoforcehimselftolookaway.
“Letmetasteyou.”
Iletoutanalmost-laugh.“Youalreadyhave.”
“Andeventhen,Iwasthinkingaboutthis.”
Hishandroamedupmystomach.Minemetitwithoutmetellingitto.Histhumbsweptoverthebackofmyhand—remindingme,Iknew,thateventhoughhisteethweresoclosetothemostvulnerablepartsofme,Iwasstillincontrol.
“Yes,”Iwhispered.
Icouldn’ttakemyeyesoffhimasthoseperfectlipscurled,orashisheadbowedbeforeme.
Butatthestrokeofhistongue,Ithrewmyheadback.
Fromthefirsttouch,itwasdemanding,giving.IthoughthemightteasemejustbecauseheknewhowmuchIwantedhim.Instead,eventhefirststrokewasfirmanddefinitive,caressingthelengthofmyslit,endingwithapauseatmyclitthathadmyhipsbucking.
Hishandstightenedaroundmythighs,pullingmeclosertohisface.Heletoutagroanthatvibratedthroughthemostsensitivepartsofme.
“Better.Betterthanyourblood.”
Better,Iagreed,blindly.Betterthananything.Betterthaneverything.
Ihadnosnarkyretorttothis.Nosharpcomeback.Onlytheblind,deliriousdesirethatheneverstopdoingthis,ever.
Iopenedmythighswider,justashislipsmetmeagain.
Histonguewasthorough,deliberate.SoftwhereIneededit.HardwhereIneededit.Mybodybowedagainsthim,witheachstrokethetensionofmypastunravelinginfavorofwantonecstasy.
Ihadimaginedwhatthismightbelike,thenighthedrankfromme.Buthewasright.Thiswasbetter.Hismouthmovedagainstmewiththesameurgency,thesamereverence.Myhandsclutchedfistfulsofthebedspread,everymusclegrowingtautinanticipationofthenextkiss,thenextstroke.Hishandsweresotightaroundthepalefleshofmythighsthatsurelyhisfingernailswereleavingmarks.Good.Iwantedhimto.
Mybreathwasrapidandserrated.Thefinalvestigesofmyself-controlkeptmefrommakingasoundsaveforafewwhimperingmoans.Butsoon,myhipsrolledagainsthimintimewithhistongue.
Whenhelingeredatmymostsensitivenerves,brushinghisteethagainstme,theshockofpleasurewassointensethathisnamerippedfrommythroat.
OhGoddess.OhMother.Iwasontheprecipice,readytofall,andeverythingshatteredexceptfor—
Hestopped.
Iletoutafrustratedgasp.Iliftedmyheadtoseehimpeeringatme.Mychestwasheaving,barebreastsrisingandfalling.
“Saythatagain,”herasped,“whenyoucomeforme.”
Thistime,whenheloweredhislipstomeagain,heslidtwofingersinsideofme—givingmeeverything,everything,everything,withonelong,forcefulstrokeofhistongue.
Thenewcombinationofsensationswastoomuch.
Pleasureconsumedme.Mybackarchedviolentlyagainstthebed.
AndIgavehimexactlywhathewanted.Imoanedhisnameagain,again,again.
Iwaspantingwhentheworldcameintofocusagain.ThefirstthingIheardwasRaihnchuckling,hislipsagainstthesensitivefleshonmyinnerthigh.
“Fuckingincredible.”
Fuckingincredible,Iagreed.
Butnotasincredibleasitwouldfeeltohaveallofhiminsideme.Toreducehimtothewhimperingmessthathejustmadeofme.
Isatup.Myentirebodyfeltsoftandloose,thelastofmytensionerasedbeneathhistongue.BeforeRaihncouldmove,Ithrewmylegsoffthebedandpushedhimflattothefloor.
“Oof,”hegrunted,asIcrawledoverhim.“Igothroughallthetroubleofbringingyoutothebed,too.”
Buthewasn’tcomplaining.Already,hishandsroamedoverme,tracingthecurveofmythighsastheyspreadoverhiships,upmywaist,lingeringatmybreasts.Thedeeperdesireforhimtightenedinmycore,moreintensethanevernowthatmynervousnessnolongertemperedit.
Iloweredmyselfagainsthimanddrewinadeepinhale,withoutevenmeaningto.Hisscenthitmelikealungfulofcigarsmoke,andthetasteofhisskin—thetasteofthesky—leftmedizzy.
Raihn’sfingersgentlytangledinmyhairasItraileddown,followingthatwideningpathofsoftdarkhair,tothewaistbandofhistrousers.Hisleatherswerethick,andcutclosetohisbody,buthislengthstillstrainedadmirablyagainstit.Itlookedabitpainful.
HestoppedbreathingasIworkedatthebuttonsandlaces.Hell,Idid,too.Andwhenthatfabricfellopenandhiscockwasatlastliberated,Iletitoutatonce.
Ididn’tknowitwaspossibletofindsuchathingsostunning,likeaworkofart.Itwasasbigandpowerfulastherestofhim—actually,thesizeofitmademefaintlynervous.Andyet,itwasalsosoelegant,everyshadeoffleshexquisitelycomplementary,theheadpeekingfromagracefulsweepoftanskin.
Whenmyfingerswrappedaroundit—Mother,hisskinwassosoftcomparedtotheunyieldinghardnessofhisdesire—ittwitched,thebeadofmoistureatitstipswelling.
Iwatchedit,transfixed,thenloweredmyheadandlickedthatmoistureaway.
Raihnletoutaraggedexhale,fingerstanglinginmyhair.
Iliftedmyeyes.Hehadproppedhimselfuponhiselbows,watchingmewithhislipsparted,pupilsdilated.Hedidn’tblink.Didn’tmove.
Maybeitwasinthewayhelookedatmerightnowthatmademeunderstandexactlyhowmuchhewantedme.Ihadhim.
Afteramoment,hismouthtwistedintoaruefulsmirk.HeknewexactlywhatIwasdoing.Becauseeverythingwithuswasagameofpowerandvulnerability,giveandtake.
Mymouthcurled,too.
“ShouldImakeyoubeg?”Ibrushedmylipsoverhimagain.
Hemadeasoundsomewherebetweenahissandachuckle.“AndwhenI’vebeensogenerouswithyou,too.Youalreadyhadmeonmyknees.”Thenthesmilefaded,hiseyessharpasmytonguesweptoverhimoncemore.“Ineedtobeinsideyou.I’msickofwaiting.”
Iwas,too.
Isatup,swungoverhim.Positionedmyselfsothathisrigidlengthlayrightagainstmycore,rightbetweenmythighs.Atthefirsttouchofhissilkenskintomywetfolds,webothdrewingasps.
Hishandsgrippedmyhips,hiseyesneverleavingmine.
“Iwouldbeg,”hemurmured.“Foryou,Iwould.Youhavefuckingdestroyedme,Oraya.Doyouknowthat?”
Hiswhisperwashoarseandraw.Toorawtobeanythingbutthetruth.Andmyowntruthswelledinmythroat,toomuchforwords.
Iwouldbegforhim,too.Breakforhim.Cutmyselfopenlikeananimalfordissection.Heheldmeopenthatway,notjustmybodybutmysoul,too.
Iwouldlethimthinkthatthiswasnothingbutpleasure.Nothingbutarebelliousdaughter’srevengeagainstherfatherorafinalcarnalindulgencebeforenear-certaindeath.Iwouldlethimthinkthatwewerejustfucking.
Oratleast,Iwouldnotmakehimacknowledgethefactthathesurelysawotherwiseinmyface,too,justasIsawitinhis.
Ireachedbetweenusandalignedhimwithmyentrance.Eventhefirstpressofhistipintomewasenoughtomakemybreathhitch.Hisfingerstightenedatmyhips—hisdesire,andhissteadyingguidance.Thegripsaid,wordlessly,Youareincontrol.
Iwantedtotakehimhardanddeep,butmybodyhadotherplans.HewassomuchbiggerthanIwasusedto.Ihadtolowermyselfslowly,inchbyinch,allowingmyselftoadjustashefilledme.
YetwhatlittlepaintherewasdisappearedbeneathadizzyingwaveoflustonceIfinallyhadallofhim.Weweresoclosetogether,sotightlylinked.IcouldswearIcouldfeeleverypulseofhisblood,andhewasburiedsodeepinsideofmethatsurelyhefelteverythrobofmine,too.
Itwassomuch.Toomuch.Itwas—Icouldn’t—
“Youalright?”hewhispered.Hishandflattenedagainstmythigh,acomfortingstroke,andIrealizedthatIwasshaking,overwhelmedaseverymusclecontractedandrespondedtohispresencewithinme.
Myonlyresponsewastocirclemyhips,fracturedmoansescapingbothofusevenatthatsmallmovement.
Oh,Mother.Thiswasgoingtoendme.Itwasgoingtofuckingannihilateme.
Ipressedmypalmtohisstomach.Feltthetaught,tremblingmusclesofhisabdomen.Myeyeslockedwithhis.
“You’reholdingback.”
Hissilencewasmyanswer.Slowly,Iroseagain,sothatonlyhistipwasleftwithinme,neverlookingawayfromhim—fromtheferaldesireinhiseyes,thewayhisteethclosedaroundhislip.
“Don’t,”Iwhispered,andtookhisentirelengthinonesuddenthrust.
Thetension,thetenderness,shatteredintoamillionpieces.Fuckinghimslowlywasagonizing—fuckinghimhardwasdevastating.Hereleasedagrowledcurseashegrabbedmywaist,helpingmethrougheachstroke,hishipsrisingandfallingintimewithmine.Ididn’tknowhowitwaspossiblethatheseemedtogetdeeperwitheachone,brandingeverywallwithinme,everymuscle.
Iaskedhimnottoholdback,andhedidn’t.
Histhrustsweredeepandvicious,pistoninginandoutofmewithaforcethatleftmeincoherent.Butitwasn’tenough—Iwantedmore.Somuchofmyfleshstillscreamedforhim.Asifhereadmymind,hesatup,seizingmymouthinakissjustasfierceandthorough.Thechangeofangleforcedhimtoabandonspeedfordepth,movingslower,harder
Thesoundthatescapedmythroatdidn’tevensoundhuman.Herolledhishipsagain,minemeetingthemovementonnothingbutinstinct,andIrealizedthesoundwasaplea,beggingforI-didn’t-even-know-what.
“Yes,Oraya,”hegrowled.“Fuck,yes.Anything.”
Iclawedathim,myfingernailsdiggingintohisback—surelyleavingmarks—ourkisseswildandmessyandfightingfordominance.Everysensationsentmehurtlingtowardsapleasurebeyondmycontrol—hislips,histongue,hisskin,hischestpressedtomybreasts,hishandsgrippingmyhair,eachtorturousstrokeofhiscock.
Pleasureshotupmyspine.Mymouthescapedhis,kissedhisjaw,hisear,hisneck.Hegrippedmyhipsandleviedanespeciallypowerfulthrust,onethatforcedacursefrommylips,andIclosedmyteetharoundtheperfectfleshofhisthroat,tonguedartingoutagainsttheironwarmthofhisblood.
Hegroaned,hisholdonmetightening.Hewasclose—Iwasclose.Hishandsroamedmyback,myass,myhips,mybreasts—likehewantedallofme,andcouldn’tdecidewhathemostwantedtotouchashewent.
Ihadtoforcemyselfawayfromhisskintolookintohiseyes.
“Saymyname,”Igasped,echoinghiswords.“Sayitwhenyoucome.”
Hecoveredmywordswithhiskiss,demanding,tongueclaimingmymouth.Icouldfeelhismusclescoilingintimewithmine—Iknewwhatwascoming.Andashislipsmovedtomythroat,somedistantpartofmebalkedinmemoryofanothermoment,longago.
ButIwastoofargone.
Hedrovedeepintome,hard.
“Oraya.”Hewhispereditlikeaprayeragainstmyskin.“Oraya,Oraya,Oraya.”
Icriedout.
Ifelthiscockswell,twitch,asmywallscontractedaroundhim.Feltthewarmthofhimfillme,ourhipswringingoutthefinalwavesofpleasurefromeachaftershock.
Ididn’tfallbacktoearthsomuchasitallsimplyfadedback.Mysensesreturnedtomeinpieces.Firsttheairrushinginandoutofmewithmyheavingbreaths.ThenthewarmsolidwallofRaihn’schest.Hishandrubbingmyback.
Hehadleanedbacktothefloor,andIhadgonewithhim,nowlimponhischest.
IwasalittlesurprisedthatIwasabletomoveatallwhenIliftedmyhandandbroughtittomythroat.Ifeltonlytheraisedbumpofmyscar,andthedampremnantofhiskiss,andnothingelse.
“Fuck,Oraya,”hebreathed.“Just…fuck.”
Hiswordsfromearlierechoedinmyhead:
Youhavedestroyedme.
Hehaddestroyedme,too.Perhapsitwasgoodthatwewoulddietomorrow.BecauseIdidn’tknowhowtoremakemyselfafterthis.
Ipushedmyselfupenoughtolookathim.Hishairfannedoutaroundhisheadonthedarkwoodfloor.Acertaincontentednesshadovertakenthetypically-harshlinesofhisexpression—albeit,still,withalingeringshineoflusttohiseyes.Buttherewassomethingelsethere,too.Softerthanlust,gentler,andyetfarmoredangerous.
Adripofblack-redrolleddownhisthroat.Hetoucheditandletoutawrychuckle.
“WhyamInotsurprisedthatyouweretheonetodrawblood?”
Ilickedmylips,tastingaresidualdrop.“MaybeIunderstandwhatyouseeinit.”
Imeantitasajoke,andhelaughed,butoddlyenough,Ididseetheappeal.Hetastedlikehesmelled.Allofhim—hisblood,hisskin,hismouth.
“So.”Ieyedhim.“Howlongbeforeyoucandothatagain?”
“Hmm.”Abruptly,herolledover,dumpingmetothefloor.Hegrinned,hisnosetouchingmine.Hiscockbrushedtheinsideofmythigh—alreadyhardening.
“Onenight.Idon’tplanonwastinganyofit.Ihavealist,remember.”
Alist,Ithoughtashekissedmeagain,hard,andmyarmsfellaroundhisneck,andIlostmyselfinhimalloveragain.
Afuckinglist.
ThemostbeautifulwordintheGoddess-damnedworld.CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE
Webarelymadeithalfwaythrough.
Itwasanimpossibletask.EverytimeIhadhim,IdiscoveredanewpieceofhimIwantedtoclaim.Itwastheoppositeofsatisfaction.Witheachclimax,Ionlydesiredmore.Bythetimewefoundourselvescrawlingintothebedoutofsheerexhaustion,Ihadcomeupwithfar,farmorethanasinglenight’sworthoffantasies.
YetIfoundmyselfnotmindingasIdriftedtooeasilytosleepinhisarms.Andnow,asIlaynose-to-nosebesidehim,watchingtheheavyfallofhislashesagainsthischeekandthesteadyrhythmofhissleepingbreaths,Ithought,Itwasworthit,towitnesshimthisway.
Iranmyfingersovertheswellofmuscleofhisshoulder,downhisback.
Mother.IhopedhehadnocluehowtransfixedIwasbyhim.
Hiseyesopened.Themomenttheylandedonme,thesmilewarmedhislipsimmediately,likehewasrelievedthatnoneofithadbeenadream.
“Don’ttellmeit’stimetogo.”
“Wehaveafewmorehours.”
Hestretched.“Wonderful.Notreadyfordeathjustyet.MaybeafterIwatchyoucomeonemoretimeIwillbe.”
Death.
Thepitinmystomach,theoneIhaddesperatelybeentryingtoignore,grewlarger.
Before,Icoulddrownallthoseunpleasantthoughtsbeneathoursharedmindless,carnalpleasure.ButasI’dwatchedhimsleep,alone,allthosefearsseepedintothesilence.
Wejokedaboutdeathbecausewehadto.Butitwasn’tajoke.Itwasreal,anditwascomingforus.AndthethoughtofdeathgettinganywherenearRaihnmademefeelsick.
Forsolong,heandIhaddancedaroundeachother’spasts.Itdidn’tbehooveeitherofustolearntoomuchabouttheother.Thelessweknew,theeasieritwouldbetocarveeachotheroutofourliveswithasinglewell-placedstrikeofourblades,likeacancerexcised.
Butinthismoment,IcametothehorrifyingrealizationthatIwouldneverbeabletocarveRaihnfrommyheart.Hehadembeddedtoodeep.Rootsthroughstone.
AndasIhadwatchedhimsleep,Icouldn’thelpbutseeIlana’sfacefloatthroughmymind.ThereweresomanythingsIhadn’taskedher,too.Andwhenshedied,Ihadtoburymyselfinbroken,incompleteshardsofherlife,becauseitwasallIhad.
Iwantedmoreofhimthanthat.Moreofhisbody.Moreofhissoul,too.
Isaidsoftly,“Youtoldmebeforethatyouhadalotofpeoplerelyingonyou.”
Raihn’ssmilefaded.“Ido.”
“Who?”
“I’dratherhavemoresexthanthisconversation.Gladyourpillowtalkisaboutaspleasantasyourbedsidemanner,princess.”
Ismiledweakly,alittleembarrassed.Buthisfingerscaressedmycheekinawaythatsaid,perhaps,heunderstood.AndmaybehefeltsomeofwhatIdid,thismasochisticurgetohackoutlittlepiecesofourheartforeachother,becausehesaid,“Doyouwanttheshortanswer?Orthelongone?”
“Thelongone.”
WhatIdidn’tadd:Iwanttolistentoyoutalkforaslongaspossible.
Raihnlookedaway,silentforalongmoment,asifhehadtopreparehimself.
“ThemanwhoTurnedme,”hesaid,“wasaverypowerfulperson.WhenIwashuman,Iwasaguard,andItookajobsecuringatradingshipfromPachnaitoTharima.Ourboatwastoosmalltobemakingajourneythatlong.WegotcaughtinastormanditflungusrighttotheshoresoftheHouseofNight.SnaredonNyaxia’sHook.”
Iknewtheterm—itreferredtoalittlerockyhookoflandthatjuttedoutfromthesouthernshoresoftheHouseofNight.Thecurrentswereverystrong,andthoughI’dneverseenit,I’dheardstoriesthatthehorizontherewaslitteredwiththeremnantsofshatteredships.
“IhadnoideawhereIwaswhenithappened.Wewereoffcourse.Itwasdark.Mostoftheothersdied.Iwasclosetoit,too.Literallydraggedmyselftoshore.”
Hiseyesfellstraightahead,nottothewall,buttothepast.
“Luck,”hesaid.“Lucksavedme.Ordamnedme.IwasmostlydeadbythetimeIfoundhim.I’dseenalotofdeath,eventhen,butwhenit’sbreathingdownyourthroat,it’sdifferent.WhenheaskedmeifIwantedtolive…whatkindofaquestionwasthat?Iwasthirty-twoyearsold.OfcourseIfuckingwantedtolive.Ihada—Ihadalife.”
Thedismayinthatsentence.Ifeltitinmyheart,too.Ihadalife.
“Afamily?”Iwhispered.
“Awife.Achildcoming.Alotoffuturetolivefor.Iwaswillingtodoanythingforit.”
Hesaidthiswithsuchruefulresentment,asifhehatedhisformerselfforthinkingit.
IwonderedifhethoughtofthatversionofhislifeasoftenasIthoughtofadifferentversionofmine.
“SoIaccepted.Ithoughthewassavingme.Itradedawaymybrokenhumanityinfavorofimmortality.OrsoIthought.Butthen…”Histhroatbobbed.“Hedidn’tletmeleave.”
“Didn’tletyou—?”
“Atfirst,itwasbecauseIwassick.Turningis…Ihopetoanygodthatyouneverknow,Oraya.Ireallydo.Ifoughthardtolive,butclawingmynewselfoutoftheoldtookweeks.Months.Butafterthat,Irealized—”
Hebitdownhardonhiswords,swallowed.Islidmypalmtothebareskinofhischestinsilentreassurance,andhishandfellovermine,pressinghardenoughthatIcouldfeelhisheartbeat—quickwiththememoryofthepast,despitethecarefulrestraintofhisvoice.
“Iwasn’ttheonlypersonheTurned.Nottheonlyvampirehetook.Hechose…”Hisheadtiltedslightlytotheoppositewall,asifhedidn’twantmetoseehisface.“Hehadhistastes,alright?Hewasvery,veryold.Andoncesomeonehasbeenaliveforthebetterpartofamillennium,itgetshardtofindexcitementintheworld.Fulfillingtheirvarioushungersgetsdifficult.Entertainingthosetheyseektoinfluence,keepingtheirattention,getsdifficult.Peoplebecome…nothingmorethansourcesofamusement.Andwhenthey’rethatpowerful,whentheyhavethatmuchcontrolovereverylivingbeing,youdon’thaveanychoicebuttoletthemdowhattheywanttoyou.”
Horrorcurdledinmystomach.
Oh,Mother.
WhenIhadfirstmetRaihn,hehadseemedlikeanimmovablepillarofstrength—firstphysicalstrength,andthenemotionalstrength.Theideathatanyonehadeverusedhimthatway…theideathatanyonehadmadehimfeelthelevelofshamethatIheardnowinhisvoice,alltheseyearslater…
Andyet,somuchnowmadesense.ThatRaihnknewsoimplicitlyallthethingsIdidn’tsay.Knewwhatitfeltliketobesopowerless,tobeusedinwaysbeyondyourcontrol.Knewhowtorecognizethescarsofapast,whetheronathroatoronaheart.
ItseemedpatronizingtotellhimIwassorry.Whatgooddidmypitydohim?
InsteadIsaid,“Iamfuckingfuriousforyou.”
No,Iwouldn’tgivehimmypity.ButI’dgivehimmyrage.
Thehintofasmilecreasedthecornersofhiseyes.“Theresheis.”
“Ihopehe’sdead.Tellmehe’sdead.”
Ifnot,I’dhunthimdownandkillhimmyself.
“Oh,he’sdead.”Awinceflinchedacrosshisfeatures.“I’m…ashamedofwhatIletmyselfbecome,backthen,oncethefightwasstompedoutofme.Therewasnoshortageofwaystonumbmyself.Hewon,soItookthem.Ihatedvampires.Andforseventyyears,Ihatedmyself,becauseIhadbecomeoneofthem.”
Fuck.Icouldn’t.Ihatedthem,too.
“But…Iwasn’talone,either.Therewereothersinthesamepositionasme.SomeTurned,someBorn.Someofthemwereshellsofwhotheyusedtobe,likeme.SomeIformedan…uneasykindofkinshipwith.Andsome…”
Iwasn’tsurehowIknew.Maybeitwassomethingaboutthefarawaymistoverhiseyes,andthefactthatI’donlyseenthatexpressiononcebefore.
“Nessanyn,”Imurmured.
“Nessanyn.Hiswife.EverybitasmuchofaprisonerofhimasIwas.”
Alumproseinmythroat.“Andyoufellinlovewithher?”
Iadmittherewasalittletwingeofjealousyatthethought—why?—butthataside,Ihopedhehad.BecauseIknew,firsthand,thathavingsomeonetolovecouldhelpsomeonesurviveimpossiblesituations.
Hedidn’tanswerforalongtime,likehereallyhadtoconsiderthis.“Idid,”heanswered,finally.“Andlovinghersavedme,becausebythattime,Ididn’tthinktherewasasinglegods-forsakenthingintheentireshittyworldthatmattered,untilsuddenly,Nessanynmattered.Andthedifferencebetweennothingmatteringandonethingmatteringisabigone.”
Iwasgratefultoherforthat.Thatshehadhelpedhimsurvive.
“ButsheandIwereverydifferentpeople.Ifwe’dmetinanotherlife…”Heshrugged.“Idon’tknowifwewouldhavepaidanyattentiontoeachother.Theonlythingwehadincommonwashim.Buthewasourentirelives,sothatwasenough.Togetherwewereabletocraftsomethingthatwasjustours.ShewasthefirstkindvampireI’devermet.Justagood,decentperson.Andthroughher,Imetothers.Itjust…changedeverything.”Helookedaway,asifembarrassed.“Itsoundssilly.Itsoundslikenothing.But…”
“It’snotnothing.It’snotsilly.”
IspokemoresharplythanIhadintended.
Iwassofuckingangryonhisbehalf.Angrythatthishadhappenedtohim.Angrythatanyonehaddaredtellhimthatanyofit,anyshred,wassillyorshamefulorundeservingofanythingotherthanrighteousfury.
“Howdidyougetout?”Iasked.
“Theworldhehadbuiltwascollapsingunderitsownweight.Allthatcrueltywascatchinguptohim.Isawithappening,andIknewitwastheonlychanceI’dhavetogetout.IbeggedNessanyntogo,too.Beggedhertosaveherself.Butsherefused.”
Icouldn’tfathomthis.“Why?”
“You’dbeamazedwhatpeoplecanbeloyalto.”
“Shewouldratherdiewiththemanwhotorturedherthanlive?”
“Shewasadreamer.Kind,butsoft.She’dratherescapetotheworldshedreamedofthanfightforthisone.”Thenhewinced,asifoffendedonherbehalfbytheharshnessofhisownwords.“Itisn’tthatsimple.Butintheend,shediedintherubbleofhisworldrightalongsidehim.Igotout,andshedidn’t.”
“Didyouevergobacktofindyourwife?Your—yourchild?”
Hebrushedthescaronhischeekbone.Theupside-downV.“Itried.Itdidn’tgoverywell.Seventyyearsisalongtime.Ididn’tconsidermyselfavampire,butIwasn’thumananymore.”
Idislikedhowfamiliarthatfelt.Ihadhumanbloodandavampireheart.He’dhadahumanheartandvampireblood.Theworldleftnoroomforeither.
“Ispentalongtimetraveling.WhenIwashuman,IbecameaguardsoIcouldseetheworld.Thatand…well,lookatme.”Hegesturedtohimselfwithahalf-smile.“WhatelsewasIgoingtodowithmyself?Icouldchoosebetweenblacksmithandsoldier,andonlyoneofthosedidn’trequiremetostareathorses’assesallday.”
“Youcould’vebeenachef,”Icountered,andwhenhelaughed—anactuallaugh—thesoundofitloosenedsomethinginmychest.
“MaybeIshouldhave.Justspentmywholelifefatteningupasimple,happywifeandhavingasimple,happyfamily,andI’dbelonginthegroundgettingmuchmorerestthanIdonow.”
Itdidseemnice.Italsoseemed…smallerthanhim.
“Butthetruthis,Ididn’tevengettotravelmuchwhenIwashuman,”hewenton.“SowhenIwasfree,Iwenteverywhere.ThewholeoftheHouseofNight.Alltheislands.TheHouseofShadow,HouseofBlood—”
HouseofBlood?NoonewenttotheHouseofBlood.
“Itwasaboutasmorbidasyou’dexpect,”hesaid,atmyraisedeyebrows.“Ieventraveledthehumanlands.RealizedIcouldpass,ifIwascareful.But…afterawhile,IthinkIrealizedIwasrunning.Theywerewithmeeverywhere.Himremindingmeofeverythingfuckedupabouttheworld.HerremindingmeofallthegoodIhadabandonedinit.Andthen,whenIcamebacktoObitraes,IfoundMische.”
ThosewordsheldsomuchmoreweightnowthatIunderstoodhisbackground.“Oh.”
“Mischeremindedmeofher,insomeways.Thegood,andtheflaws.Bothofthemsawsomuchbeautyintheworld.Buttheyalsobothhadthat…thatfuckingnaiveté.Thatwillfulignoranceofwhatittakestoactuallymakethatkindofreality.”
Hepausedforalongmomentofthought.
“Thoseseventyyearswithhimhadbeen…bad.ButImetalotofgoodpeoplewhoweresuffering,too.PeoplethatNessanynwastryingtocarefor,evenwhenshewasdrowning.Rishanpeople,whowerenowmoretrappedthanever.AndIshouldhavefoughtforthemwhenitallcollapsed,butIdidn’t.Ididn’tknowhow—ormaybeIdidandwishedIdidn’t.”
Ithoughtwithnewhorrorofthehundredsofwingspinnedonthewall.ThoughtoftheashesofSalinae.
“Soyoucamehere.”
“Ididn’tthinkthoseresponsibilitiesweremineforalongtime.Mischedisagreed.Sheforcedmyhand.EnteredtheKejarifirst.KnewIwouldn’tletherdoitalone.”
Mybrowsleapt.EnteringtheKejarijusttoforcehimtodoit…tocallitextremewasanunderstatement.Sheverywellcouldhavebeensacrificingherlife
Imusthavemadeaface,becauseRaihnletoutadark,humorlesslaugh.“Iwasreadytofuckingkillhermyself.Stupidestthingshepossiblycouldhavedone.Andmarkmywords,Iwouldhavefoundawaytogetherout.Onewayoranother.”Hisfacesoftened.“Butthat’sMische.Impulsiveasshit.Butalways,alwayswell-intentioned.Morethanshehasanyrighttobe,afterallshe’sseen.Sometimesfoolishlyso.IloveMischelikeasister,but…Iworryabouther.Theworldisn’tflowersandsunshine.Shedoesn’trealize—”
“—thatyouhavetofighthardenoughtoleaveamark,”Ifinished.“Thatitisn’teasytoclean.”
Hiseyesfelltome.Thefamiliarityofthem,likeamirror,struckmedeep.“Exactly.”
Theworldwasnoteasyorstraightforward.Goodnesswasneverpureorsimple.
WhenIfirstmetRaihn,Ithoughtwewouldneverunderstandeachother.Butnow,forthefirsttime,Ifeltlikesomeonewasreallyseeingme—seeingtheworldasIdid.
Ibecameawareofthewarmthofhisskinundermypalm,thethrumofhisheartbeat.IfIweretokillhim,Iwouldneedtoputmybladerightthere.Replacethiscaresswithastrike.
Andmaybe…maybeIcouldn’tdoit.MaybeIdidn’twantto.Raihnhadpeopletosave.Mineweregone.Whodeservedthismore?
Icouldn’tvoicethis.ButIhadneverbeenabletohidemydarkestthoughtsfromhim,notevenwhenIneededtothemost.Hesawrightthroughme.
“Butthen,”hesaidsoftly,“ImetsomeonewhostillmanagedtofinddefiancewhereIthoughtitdidn’texistanymore.”
Mythroattightened.Defiance.Hemadeitsoundsonoble.
“Astupiddream,”Ichokedout.“Asifguttingafewvampirescumbagsinthealleysmeansanything.Asifitchangesanything.”
“Stop.”Thewordwasasharprebuke.“Youfoundawaytodefendyourworldwheneveryonetoldyouthatyoushouldn’t.Doyouknowhowfuckinghardthatis?Howrare?IwishIhadfoughtthewayyoudo.Thatisstrength.”
Wasitstrengthtolashoutagainstasteelwall?Ordidthatmakemejustanothernaivedreamer?
“Idon’tknowwhyI’mdoinganyofthisanymore.”Myhandwanderedtothepileofmyclothesontheotherendofthebed,fingertipsplayingatthehiltofmyblade.Iwithdrewit,observingthedarksteelinthelanternlight.Orangedrippedalongtheswirlsetchedintoitslength.
I’dbeensohonoredtowieldthisweapon.Buthowmanylikeithadbeenusedtomurderpeoplewithbloodlikemine?
HowbadlydidIhavetoinjuremyself,Iwondered,forNyaxiatoacceptmywithdrawal?
RaihncoulddefeatAngelika.HecouldcertainlydefeatIbrihim.Andhecouldseizethatwishandusethegoddess’spowertohelpthosewhoneededhim.
Asifhecouldhearmythoughts,hegrabbedmyhand,tight.
“Lookatme,Oraya.”
Ididn’twantto—Iwouldseetoomuch,hewouldseetoomuch—butIdidanyway.
“Youaremorethanwhathemadeyou,”hesaid.“Doyouunderstand?Thatisn’tthestrength.Theshithetriedtocarveoutofyouis.Youhaveeveryreasontokeepgoing.Nowmorethanever.AndIsaythisknowing—knowinghowstupiditisforme,ofallpeople,tosayit.”
Hewasn’ttalkingabouttheKejari.Hewastalkingaboutsomethingbigger.Andhisfingersclutchedmine,trembling,ashehissed,“Sodon’tyoufuckingdarestopfighting,princess.Itwouldbreakmydamnedheart.”
Myeyesstung.
Iwouldn’tadmitit.Butitwouldbreakmineifhedid,too.
“Thenyou’dbetternot,either,”Isaid.“Swearthattome.We’reinthisnow.Weknewwhatweweregettinginto.Nothinghaschanged.”
Everythinghadchanged.
ButRaihnpaused,theninclinedhischin.“Deal.Ifwefight,thenwefighttotheend.Whateverendthatmaybe.Whoever’sbloodneedstospilltowinit.”
IthoughtIwouldfeelbetter,likewehadrestoredsomepieceofourrelationshiptowhatitwasbefore.
Ididn’t.Wehadn’t.
Iglancedtothecurtain-drapedwindows.Thelightbeneaththemwasnowscarlet.
“Thesun’sgoingdown,”Isaid.“Don’tyouwantonelastlook?”
AndRaihndidn’thesitate—didn’tlookawayfrommeonce—asheanswered,“No,”andkissedme.
***
Ihadneversodreadednightfall.
Itcamenonetheless.Iwasexpectingthelittlethreadofshadowinourroom,Nyaxia’sbeckoninghand,butthesightstillmademybreathburninmylungs.Whenitappeared,RaihnandIrolledoutofbedandputourarmorbackonwithoutaword.
Beforewelefttheroom—leftitforthefinaltime—westoppedandlookedateachother.
“Ithasbeenapleasure,princess,”hesaid.
Iwatchedhislipscurl.Mother,thoseperfectlips.
Ithoughtaboutkissinghimonelasttime.Thoughtaboutwindingmyarmsaroundhisneckandneverlettinggo.Dragginghimbacktobedandrefusingtoleave.Atleastwe’ddiehappywhenNyaxiastruckusdown.
Ididnoneofthosethings.
Ididn’tknowhowRaihncouldpossiblycallmebrave.Iwasafuckingcoward
“It’sbeen…”Ishrugged.Thesmirkcrinkledmyeyeswithoutmypermission.“Tolerable.Iguess.”
Helaughed.“Theresheis,”hesaid,andopenedthedoor.
***
AngelikaandIbrihimwerealreadywaitingwiththeMinistaer.Ibrihimdidnotlookatus.Angelika’stypicallyhardfacewasevenharderthanusual,hereyessharpasdaggersasshewatchedusapproach.Theywererimmedwithred.
Thecurse?OrhadshespentthelastdayweepingoverIvan’sdeath?
Thedoorappearedasitalwaysdid,withlittlefanfare.TheMinistaerwishedusluckandusheredusthrough.Ibrihimwentfirst.Hecouldbarelywalk.Hiswingshungdownbehindhim,brokendeadweight.
Next,Angelika.
Andthenitwasonlyus.
EverythingIcouldn’tsaythreatenedtodrownme.Wordsweren’tenough.Yetwithoutmypermission,justbeforewecrossedthethreshold,IgrabbedRaihn’shand—squeezedithard,hard,hard—andoh,Mother,Icouldn’tlethimgo,Icouldn’tdothis.
Ourstepsslowed.Nooneelsewouldhavenoticedit,thissplit-secondofhesitation.Butforme,amillionpossibilitieslivedinthatmoment.
Fantasies.Fairytales.Uselessdreams.
Ismashedthemonthemarbleground,pulledmyhandaway,andwalkedthroughthethreshold.CHAPTERFORTY-SIX
Thecrowd’sshoutswerebarbaricandbloodthirsty,likethehungryroarofwolvesastheytoretheirpreyapart.
Thestandswerepacked.Fromthisdistance,theaudiencewasvisibleonlyasawaveofpeople,handsraisedinfists,screamingforviolence.Abovethem,thewingsoftheRishan,bloodyfeatherspinnedopen,werereducedtomeredotsofdeath.
Itookthisinonlyforamoment,beforeIhadtorolloutofthewayofastreakoffire.
NotNightfire.Fire
Ibarelymanagedtomoveintime.Heatsingedthetipsofmyhair.Myclumsyrollslammedmeagainstawall—no,notawall,adoor,boltedshut.Ileaptbacktomyfeetandturned.
Thearenahadbeendividedup.Iwasinasmallerenclosure,thedoorbehindmelocked.NoRaihn,Ibrihim,orAngelika.
Instead,threefigurescircledme,twomenandawoman.Allthreeofthemhadempty,glowingblackeyesandblankfaces,wearingtatteredrobesthatseemedlikeaninsultingparodyofreligiousgarb.Thestringoffirehadcutdirectlyacrossmyarena,leavingmescramblingtoavoidtheblazingpath.
Itcamefromthefigureontheright.Flamessurroundedhim,crawlinguptheflowingribbonsofhisrobes.Acrooked,tarnishedcrownfitpoorlyonhishead,achippedwhitecirclemounteduponit.
Thewomanbesidehimworeagownofpink,spatteredwithblackandred.Aflowercircletsatuponherstringyredhair.Twowiltingroseshadbeenshovedintohereyes.Inherhandswasabow,cockedwithaluminescentarrowofrustedthorns.
Andatlast,thefinalman—tallandslender,shirtlesstorevealascarredbodyhalf-marredwithdecay.Hischinlolled,mouthgapingandblackened.
Gods,Irealized.
Falsemimicriesofthem.
Thiswasthefinaltrial.ItrepresentedNyaxia’sultimaterisetopower.Inafitofrageandgriefoverherhusband’sdeath,shehadturneduponherformerbrothersandsisters.ShehadfoughtherwaythroughalltwelvegodsoftheWhitePantheon—andshehadwon.
Thewomanraisedherbowandlethershotfly.Itmovedfasterthanairshouldhavebeenabletocarryit.Ibarelymanagedtododgeit.
Thearrow—rustedsteel,shapedlikethethornystalkofarose—burieditselfinthesandtwoinchesfrommynose.Thesandarounditblackenedandsmoked.
Ikeptrunning.Behindme,steadythunk,thunk,thunkstrailedmysteps,growingever-closerasarrowsstruckthepackedsand.
TheonewiththefirehadtobeAtroxus,thegodofthesunandthekingoftheWhitePantheon.Andthearrows…thathadtobeIx,goddessofsexandfertility.Herarrowsweresaidtoplantseedsinwombs,thoughIwasfairlycertainthatwasn’twhattheyweregoingtodotome.
Thesewerepuppets,afterall.Nottherealgods,butparodiesintendedtomockthem.
Thethird,though…Irackedmybrain.Heworenocrown,carriednoweapon—
Theairsplitintwo.Thehigh-pitchedsoundmademymusclesseizewithoutmypermission.Itrippedovermyownfeetandlandedhardinthesand.PaineruptedthroughmyshoulderasoneofIx’sarrowsgrazedmyflesh,openingasmolderingtearinmyarmor.
Fuck.Thatsound.Itparalyzedme.Turnedmymindinsideout.Iforcedmyheaduptolookatthem—atthethirdfigure,whoseblackenedlipsgapedlikeafish.
Asifsinging.
Kajmar.Godofseduction,art,beauty…andmusic.
Hissongstoppedasabruptlyasithadbegun.Iseizedthemomentjustintimetoavoidanotherencroachingwaveoffire.Atroxusdidnotmove,insteadhoveringinchesabovethesand,handsopenasifinprayerandflamespoolingaroundhiminexpandingwaves.ButKajmarandIxbothjerkedanddancedacrosstheenclosure,asifdangledonstringsheldbysomeinvisiblepuppet-master,theirlimpfeetdraggingalongtheground.
IcalledupontheNightfire,andwasgratefulwhen,fueledbymyadrenaline,itbloomedeasilytolifeinmyhands.ButIstruggledtouseitwithprecision—Icouldn’tshootitatIxorKajmar,notwhentheyweremovingsofast,andmysloppyattempttosendasurgeofittoAtroxussimplywitheredanddiedbeneaththestrengthofhisfarmorepowerfulwalloffire.
AnotherscreechofKajmar’ssongnearlyendedmeasItookanespeciallyill-timedtumble.Firenippedatmyheels.Ihadtofighttodragmyselfthreeinches,justoutofitsreach.
Themomentthesoundreleasedme,Iwasrunningagain,paindisappearingbeneaththepoundingofmyheart.EverythingnarrowedtothestepsIneededtotaketostayalive.
WhowasIgoingafterfirst?
Icouldn’tgetclosetoAtroxus;hewouldneedtocomelater.AndIx’sarrowshadbeenaproblem,butonlybecauseKajmar’svoicestunnedme.
Ineededtogetridofhim.Itwastoodangeroustoallowmyselfanywhereneartheotherssolongashecouldfreezemeatanymoment.
Ihadnothingbutblades.Sothatmeanttherewasnostrategytothisnextpart.Ijusthadtorun
MygazelockedtoKajmar,whodancedinerraticfitsandstartsacrosstheroom.Ireadiedmyblades,bracedmyself,andsprintedforhimwitheverythingIhad.
Ididn’tnoticethesmelluntilIgotwithintwostridesofhim,butonceIdid,itwasimpossibletoignore.Itwasputrid,wringingmystomachintoknotsandforcingbileupmythroat.Hewashalf-decomposed.Thickpaintsmearedhisface,crackingoverslackenedmuscles.
Hewasacorpse.
Andnotjustacorpse,butoneIrecognized.ItwastheRishanmanRaihnhadkilledthefirstnightoftheKejari.Ourownfallenrivals,draggedbackforonefinalfight.
KajmarwasalreadypreparingtomoveawayfrommebeforeIclosedthedistancebetweenus.ButIpushedmyselfharder,threwmyselfathiminthosefinalseconds.
Mydaggerslidfartooeasilyintohischest.
ButKajmardidn’tfall.
Itumbledtothegroundashejerkedawayfromme,thenseizedwhenanotherscreechingsongparalyzedmymind.Ibarelyevadedanarrow,thenforcedmyselfbacktomyfeet.
Kajmar’swoundgushedthickeningglobsofblooddownthecenterofhischest.Yetstill,hemoved.
I’dhittheheart.Iwascertainofit.
Butofcoursehehadn’tfallen.Hewasn’talive.Thatheartwasn’tdoinganythingforhimanymore.
Atroxuscontinuedtofillthearenawithlayersofflame.Theheatwasbecomingunbearable.ThefreespaceIhadtomovearoundgrewsmallerandsmaller.
Ihadminutes.Less,maybe.
IthrewmyselfatKajmaragain.Andthistime,insteadofstabbinghim,Idugmyfingernailsintohisnecroticfleshanddraggedhimcloser,holdingbackvomitatthestench.
Theyweren’trealgods.Justpuppets.Icouldn’tkillwhatwasn’talive,soIneededtodismantlehim.
Hismouthwasonlyopenbecausehisjawwasslack.Upclose,Icouldseetheunnaturalswellinhisneck—whateverspellorenchantmenthadbeenwedgeddownhisthroatsatthere,surely.Nyaxiahadnosoundmagic.Whateverspellmadethis,itwouldbeanobjectthathadbeenobtainedfromadifferentgod.
Howgrimlyfunny.SomethingthatKajmar’smagichadoncetouchedwasnowbeingusedtomockhim.
IhackedthroughhisthroatashardasIcould.
Hisbodyspasmedandthrashedlikeafishcaughtonaline.Theexplosionofsoundfeltlikeitwouldrupturemyeardrums.Ittorethroughmelikeabundleofrazorblades.
ButIcouldn’tstop.Notforasecond.
Islashedathimagain.Again.Again.Oldbloodspatteredmyface.
Iletoutaroarwithmyfinalstrike.
Thesoundwentsuddenlysilent.Mybladecutcleanthroughthecorpse’sspine.Glassshattered,glintsofitemergingfromthegoredthroat.
Kajmar’sbodyfelltothegroundatmyfeet,stilltwitching,whilehisheadremainedinmyhand,myfingersgrippingthetangleofhishair.
Toolong.
Outofthecornerofmyeye,IsawIxliftherbow.
Intheoppositedirection,theflamesswelledagain.
Icouldn’tavoidbothatonce.
Iforcedallofmymusclestoworkinafinalburst,pushedthemagainstallodds,andhurledtheheadatIxwithallofmystrengthasIdove.
Irolledacrossthesand.Dimly,abovethesoundoftheroaringcrowd,Iheardadullthump.Irecoveredfast,alreadyrunningbythetimeIhittheground.
Secondsfromthefireengulfingthepit.
I’dstruckmytarget.Ixstruggledtorightherself,nowacollectionofuncoordinatedlimbsthatsaggedagainstthewall,herbowtangledinbrokenfingers
Ididn’tslowasIhither,bladeout.Iwentrightforherhands,slicingthemoffatthewrist.Thenicethingaboutmonth-oldfleshisthatitcutseasily.Thebowfellwithherdecayinghands.
Iseizeditbeforeithittheground.
Thearrowwasalreadyprepared.Ipressedmyselftothewall.Aimed.
Acrossthering,Atroxusfloatedthereinhisringoffire.Whatevermagictrickeryfueledhisflamessatinhischest,theflareofitvisiblebeneaththepaper-thinrottedskinofhisribcage.
Mytarget.
Ididn’theartherapidscreamsofthecrowd,orthecrackoftheflames,oreventhepoundofmyownheartbeat.
Icalledandcalledandhewouldn’tcome.
IonlyheardMische’ssobsovertheabandonmentofthegodtowhomshehadgivenherlife.
Nightfiretoreoverthelengthofmyarrow.ItbecameashootingstaroffuryasIletitfly.
ItburiedrightintoAtroxus’schest,thecoreofhispower.Foramoment,hisfireandmine—warmlightandcold—clashedwitheachother.
Minewon.
Theflashblindedme.Istaggeredagainstthewall.WhenIopenedmyeyesagain,thefirewasgone.Thecorpsethatlayinthecenterofthepitdidn’tevenremotelyresembleAtroxus.Actually,itdidn’tlooklikeapersonatall.
Thedoorgroanedopen.Theshriekoftheaudiencereachedacrescendo.
Iwipedmybloodyhandsonmybloodyclothes,grabbedmyblades,andwalkedthroughwithoutlookingback.
***
Isteppedthroughthedoorwithmyweaponsready,butthispartofthearenawasempty.Itwasasemi-circleagainstthebarrierofthestandswiththreeotherdoorsbuiltintothewallsthatdividedthecolosseum.Twoofthemremainedclosed.
Ilookedupattheaudience—attheseaofblood-drunkfaces.Iheardsomeechoesofmyname,hereandthere.Ididn’tknowiftheywerecheeringformyvictoryorformydeath.Maybeboth.Whocared,solongasitwasagoodshow?
Thousandsoffaces,andyetmyeyesfelltoVincent’sasiftheyalreadyknewwheretofindhim.Hewasinthefrontrow,standingaloneinhisbox.Thechairtherewasdesignatedforhim,buthewasn’tsitting.Instead,hestoodagainsttherail,clutchingit.
Theexpressiononhisfacerearrangedeverythinginsideme,likeoneofIx’spoisonarrowstomygut.
Afterourfight,I’dexpectedtoseeVincentthekinghere.Isawhimlookatmeasathreatthatnight,evenifitwasonlyforafewseconds.AndonceVincentsawathreat,heneversawanythingelse.
Andyes,thismanhadallthetrappingsofVincentthewartimeking—thevisiblewings,theexposedHeirMark,thecrownperchedoverhisbrow.
Butthosewingswerepulledintight,asifhisnerveshadtiedhismusclesinknots.TheexposedMarkseemedlessofashowofstrengthandmorelikehisheartwasopenandvulnerable.Andhisface—helookedatmelikehefelteverystab,everyburn,everywoundonmyskin.
Iwassoreadytohatehim.Iwantedtohatehim.
IcouldhateVincenttheking,whohadslaughteredwhateverfamilyIhadleft,whohadoverseenthetortureofmypeople,whohadrelentlesslykilledanddestroyed.
ButhowcouldIhateVincent,myfather,wholookedatmethatway?
Myangermadeeverythingcertainandeasy.Mylovemadeeverythingcomplicatedanddifficult.
Iallowedmyselftobedistracted.
ItwasVincent’seyes,flickingupasplitsecondbeforeIturned,thatsavedme.
Iwhirledaroundjustintimetododgethearrow.Abreathlater,anditwouldhavebeenburiedinmyback.Instead,Iletitsoarovermyleftshoulder,astreakofblacksmoke—magic—trailingit.Thecrowdlaughedandshoutedasitlandedintheaudience,causingaflurryofactivitybehindme.
Ibrihimlimpedfromthesecondopendoor.
Fuck
Ididn’tknowhowhewasalive.
Heheldhisbowinanirongrip,buthe’dlethisarrowfly,andnowhestruggledtoreadyanotherone.Hisonce-goodlegnowdraggedbehindhim,twistedandmangled.HishandsweresocoveredinbloodthatIcouldn’ttellhowtheywereinjured,onlythattheywere,andbadly.Iftherewasanydoubt,thefactthathecouldn’tevenreachforhisquiverputittorest.
Heliftedhishead,hismouthtwistedintoagrimlineofdetermination.Oneeyewasmissing,bloodrunningdownhisface.
Mother,hehadfought.Hehadfoughtsohard.
Iapproachedhim.Hedidn’ttakehisoneeyeoffmeashefumbledwithhisweapon.
Behindme,thesoundofthecrowdchangedinawayIcouldn’tmakeoutatfirst.ItwasonlyasIwastwostridesbeforeIbrihimthatIrealized…
Laughter.
Theywerelaughingathim.
Ibrihimmanagedtoreadyhisbow.Buthishandsweretremblingsobadlythathisfingerskeptslippingfromthestring.Hewouldneverbeabletodrawit.
Hejerkedhischinup,asneerathislip.HehadrecognizedthatsoundbeforeIdid.Butthen,heprobablyhadbeenhearingithiswholelife.
“Youpityme?”heraspedout.
Ishookmyhead.
No.IfeltnopityforIbrihim.Hehadfought,andfoughtwell.
Maybewewerethesame.Bothofushadbeenraisedinaworldthathadhobbledus.Bothofuslearnedtofighttwiceashardtomakeupforeverythingweweren’t.Bothofushadeverythingtohate.
Iwasonlytwostepsfromhim.Closeenoughtoseehisshoulderslowerslightly,andtheflickeroverhisface.
Hewasconsideringgivingup.
“No.Don’tstop.”Iunsheathedmyotherblade.“Fuckthem.Don’tletthemmockyou.Givemeafairfight,andI’llgiveyouafairdeath,Ibrihim.”
Hisjawtightened.Afteramoment,heforcedopenhisshakingfingersandlethisbowfalltotheground.Whenhedrewhissword,hecouldbarelysupporttheweightofit.Still,hethreweverythinghehadintothosefinalstrikes.
Ididn’tpatronizehim.Ittookmeseconds.
AndwhenIwrenchedhimclose,whenIpreparedmykillingblow,thatoneremainingeyemetmine,asiflookingintoamirror.
“I’mgladitwasyou,”hesaid,quietly.
AndImadesuremyaimwastrueasIslidmybladerightintohisheart.CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN
Thecrowdshrieked.Ibrihim’seyerolledandwentdistantashedied.Ipulledmybladefromhischestandlethimfalltothesand.
Isawmovementoutofthecornerofmyeye.Acrossthearena,anotherdoorhadopened.
Iturned,readytolunge,butinstead,loosenedabreathofrelief.
Raihnstoodthere,shouldersheaving.Hisarmorhadbeentattered—Mother,Ididn’tknowwhatkindofcreaturecouldshredleatherlikethat—andhewassoaked,hisdrippinghairplasteredtohisfaceandneck.Zarux,thegodofthesea,perhaps?
Fuck,Ididn’tevencare.Hewasalive.I’dthankwhatevergodIhadtoforthat.AndIsawthatsamesilentprayeronhislipswhenhisgazelandedonme,too.
Thefourthdoorswungopen,breakingourtrance.
Angelikalookedeverybitagodherself,herbraidedhairtornfreefromitsbinding,aslashoverherice-palecheek.Behindher,Iglimpsedaspatteredpaintingofblood.Shehadbutcheredheropponents.
Themomentshesteppedintothering,allfourofthedoorsslammedclosedbehindus,leavingustrappedhere.
Raihn,Angelika,andItensed,eyeingeachother.Maybewewerewaitingforanothergimmick,anotheroneofNyaxia’sdisplays.
Nothing.Justtheswellingroaroftheaudience,risingtoabloodthirstyclimax.
No,therewasnoothertrickhere.Justthreeanimalsinacagewitheachother.Butwhoneededagimmickwhenwewerealreadygivingthemthis?Ahuman,anoutcast,amonster.Loversforcedtoturnoneachother.Aheartbrokenmournerrabidforvengeance.
Itwasalreadyahellofashow.
Move,littleserpent.Movebeforetheydo.
ItwasstillVincent’svoiceinmyhead.Anddespiteeverything,Istillobeyed.
IturnedmyattentiontoAngelikafirst.
Herslittedeyesfoundmine,andwebothlunged.
***
Angelikawasrelentless.
Shedidn’tspareevenasingleglancetoRaihn.Hemightaswellnothavebeenthereatall.Evenwhenheofferedherclearopenings—evenwhenhewasobviouslytryingtodrawherattention—shecameonlyforme.
Iwassmallerthanher,faster,moreagile.ButthatwastheonlyadvantageIhadagainsther.Angelikawasabredkiller.ShewasastallasRaihn,andnearlyasstrong.Haltingtheedgeofherbladewasonething—keepingmyfragilehumanbodyfromcrumpling,literallycrumpling,beneaththecrushingforceofherstrikeswasanother.
Duringoneparticularlyviciousswing,Iblockedherwithmyblades,onlytohearadistinctCRACKringoutthroughmyback.Painshotthroughmyspinelikelightning.
Istruggledtoholdtheblock.Ahoarseroarscrapedfrommythroat.IthreweverythingIhadintomyNightfire,flecksofittearingupthelengthofmyblades.
ButAngelikabarelyreactedwhenthosewhiteflamesnippedather.NordidsheflinchatanycutImanagedtoopenonherflesh,notevenasthepoisonateawayatskin.
Hereyes,red-rimmedandcoldwithrage,didnotmovefromme.SheignoredRaihn,swattedawayhisblows,andcontinuedherunstoppablebarrage.
Secondsstretchedtominutes,andtheminutesstretchedendlessly.
Thiswasmorethanstrategy.Shewasn’tjustpickingmeoffbecauseIwastheweakeropponent.No,thiswaspersonal.Iwascertainofthat,evenifIdidn’tfullyunderstandwhy.Didsheblameme,somehow,forIvan’sdeath,eventhoughRaihnhadbeentheonetothrowhimintothefog?
Diditmatter?
Notimetothink.Notimetoquestion.Notimetogoontheoffensive,onlytoevadeherblowsthebestIcould.
MyeyesmetRaihn’soverhershoulderforasplitsecondasIblockedoneofherdevastatingstrikes.Thesheerterroronhisfaceashetriedtogetheroffofme—terroronmybehalf—startledme.Distractedme.
Ihesitatedamomenttoolong.
Herswordopenedariverofbloodovermyshoulder,andherlipscurledinsatisfaction.
Fuck.
Itriedtoyankaway,butherfingertipslifted.Shewasaskilledmagicuser.NotasgoodasIvanhadbeen,perhaps,butmorethangoodenoughforthis.Atwitchofherhand,andmyownbodybetrayedme.
Ifelltomyknees.Myheartbeatshudderedasthebloodinmyveinsgushedandtwistedinstrange,unnaturalways.Painbubbledupinsideme,aslowburn,startingatalowsimmerandquicklyrisingtoanagonythatconsumedeverythingelse.Icouldn’tmove.
Angelikasmiledassheapproachedme.
“Youdidgood,human,”shesaid.“BetterthanIexpected.”
No.
Ihadgottentoofartodiehere.Iforcedmywaythroughit,forcedmymusclestoworkagainstthemagic.
Imanagedtobarelyliftmyblade.
RaihnlungedatAngelika,butshequicklydeflectedhim,offeringmeonlyafewsecondsofreprieve—enoughformetogulpdownafewlungfulsofairandstaggertomyfeet,barelymakingitupbeforeshepushedmedownagain,herbootclampingdownonmyleg.
“It’sbeenapleasure,Oraya.”
Thecertaintyofdeathrolledovermeslowly,likeacoldfog,thekindthat’sinvisibleuntilyou’redrowninginitsdepths.
Mybackwastothecrowd.Perhapsifitwasn’t,ImighthavelookedatVincent.OrmaybeIwasgratefulIwouldn’thavetowatchhimwatchmedie.
Instead,mygazeflickedpastAngelika,toRaihn.
Ididn’tknowwhatIwassearchingfor.YetIfeltasharptwingeofsadnesswhenhewasn’tlookingatmeatall.Hewasstaringpastme,intothecrowd.Atwhat?Icouldn’tmakesenseofthatexpression.Desperationandanger.Asifpleadingwithsomeoneandhatingeverysecondofit.
Hischinlowered.Barelyanod.
Angelikahadraisedhersword.Itwouldcutmeintwo.
Ireadiedmyweapons.SummonedeveryfinalscrapofmagicIhadwithinmyveins.Iwoulddiefighting.
Butthen,somethingstrangehappened.ThestrikedidnotcomewhenIexpectedit.Instead,Angelikafaltered,hergazeliftingbrieflytothestands.Watching.
Sheletthebloodmagicslip.
Andmybodywasalreadymoving,andmynewlyfreedmuscleswerealreadyleaping,andmybladewasalreadyburiedinAngelika’schest.
TheNightfirecameamomentlater,engulfingusboth.
Youhavetopushhardtomakeitthroughthebreastbone.
Angelika’sbodywasmuscularandlean,andsheworearmorbesides.ButIthrewmyselfagainstherwithsuchforcethatmybladehitherheartonthefirsttry.
Shecollapsed.Nocounter,noattemptedblock.Maybe,ifI’dhadthetimetothink,Imighthavefoundthatstrange.Hereyessimplyslippedtomine.
Andshesmiled.
“Goodluck,”shewhisperedasherclaw-tippednailsfellfrommyarms.Herbodyhitthesandswithaheavythump,alltheweightofgreatnessfallen.
Istoodslowly,thepainofAngelika’smagicdrainingaway.Isteppedoverherbodyasthepoolofbloodsoakedthesolesofmyboots.
Raihnwasontheothersideofthepit,shouldersheaving.
Helookedeverybitthehardenedwarrior.Sweatplasteredafewstrandsofdeepredhairtohisface.Whateverhadshreddedhisarmorinhisprevioustrialhaddonegoodworkofit,andmoretatteredpiecesofleatherhadfallenawayashemoved,leavingbroadpatchesofmuscledfleshvisibleoverhischestandshoulders—thepowerofhisbodyunmistakable.Eventhemagicofhisswordseemedfiercerthaneverbefore,thepuffsofsmokeunfurlingfromthebladeinviciouslicks.
Buthiseyesdidnotbelongtothatperson.
Hiseyesbelongedtothepersonwhohadwokenupwithmetoday.Whohadkissedthescarsonmythroatasifmypast,andallofitsdarkcorners,wassomethingprecioustobeprotected.
Itwasjustusnow.Oneofuswouldwalkaway,andoneofuswouldleaveoursoulhere,intheseblood-soakedsands.
Foramoment,Iconsideredthrowingdownmyweapons.
ButthenRaihnliftedhischin.Themusclesofhisthroatshiftedasheswallowed.Iheardeverythinghedidn’tsayinthelittle,encouragingnodhegaveme.
Promisemeyou’llneverstopfighting.
Hehadonechancetogainthepowerheneededtohelpthoseheleftbehind.Ihadonechancetobecomesomethingmorethanahumanlefttodieinaworldthatdespisedher.Neitherofuscouldaffordtosacrificethosethings—nomatterhowmuchwemightwantto.
No,wewouldfight.
Raihnmovedfirst.CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT
RaihnandIknewhowtofighteachothertoowell.Wekneweachother’sstrengthsandweaknessesandhabits.Iknewnotonlywhenhewouldmove,buthowhewouldrespondwhenIdid.Eachlungewastheresultofhalfadozencalculationsbasedontheinnateknowledgeofeachotherthatwehadaccumulatedoverthelastmonths.
Itfeltperverse.Depraved.Tousethatintimacytokilleachother.
Iwonderedifhewasthinkingthesamething.Therewasnoneofhisusualsavagejoyinthis.Nosnarkycommentsorhalf-smiles.Nosatisfactioninhisstrikes.ThefirsttimeInickedhisskin,Iwincedasifithadhitmyown.Andinturn,thefirsttimehedrewmyblood,hejerkedbackasiftostophimself.
Still,ourdancecontinued.Thecrowdshriekedwithamusementwitheveryclashofsteel.Ibarelyheardthem.Mybloodpumpedinmyears,roaring.
Thiswasagonizing.Agonizing.Ineededittohurtmoreeverywhereelse,soithurtlessinmyheart.
AsIdancedclosertohim,Ihissed,“You’reholdingback.”
You’reholdingback,IhadsaidasItookhimintomybody.Iknewhewasthinkingofit,too.
“Soareyou,”hesaid.
WasthatwhatIhadtodo?GoafterhimashardasIcould,tomakehimdothesametome?
“Yousaidwe’redoingthis,”Ispat,drawingbackmyweapons.“Sofuckingdoit.”
Hisgazehardenedinawaythatsentachilldownmyspine.
“Asyouwish,”hesaid.
Andwhenhechargedatmethistime,itwaswithhisAsteris.
Hewastired,andthatweakenedhismagicconsiderably,butitwasstilladeadlyforce.Igasped,staggeringback.Iblockedhissword,buttheburstofblack-whitelighttoreatmyskin,leavingitbleedingandscalded.Itwasnaiveofmetobesurprisedthathesowillinglyrosetomychallenge.
Iaskedhimtocomeafterme,andhehad.
Fearisacollectionofphysicalresponses,Itoldmyself.
Fearisacceleratedheartbeatsandrapidbreathsandsweatypalms.Fearisadoorwaytoanger,andangerisadoorwaytopower.
WhenIlookedintoRaihn’seyesandimaginedhisbloodsoakinginthiscurseddirt,thefearthatstolethroughmylungswasoverwhelming.Butallofthatwaspower,too.
WhenIlungedthistime,Nightfiresurroundedme.
Somethinghadbrokenbetweenus.Allthosedelicatelittlejabs,thosecarefuldancesofblocksanddodges,shattered.Wewentateachotherforblood.
AsterisbloomedoverRaihn’severyblow,asNightfireburnedinmine.Everytimewecametogether,thetwomagicsburstandsputteredaroundeachother,darknessandlightrippingeachothertopieces.Hismagicrakedovermyskin,leavingitrawandbleeding.Mineblisteredoverhis,searingburnsintohisexposedflesh.
Therewerenomorelingeringstares,nomorehesitations.Onlybrutalefficiency.
I’dalwaysadmiredRaihn’sskillasawarrior.Hewieldedaswordthewayanartistwieldedapaintbrush,eachstrokeanexerciseingraceandbeauty.Now,itawedme,theeleganceofhisinstinctsandmovements,allthesenewanglesofhisbrutalityvisibleonlyasitstarget.PerhapsIcouldonlyappreciateeverybrushstrokeofdeathonceIwasthecanvas.
Inolongersaworheardthecrowd.Nightfirespreadacrossthesandasquietlyinevitableastheslowmarchofdeath.Raihnhadloosenedhisgriponhismagic,eachburstofAsterissweepingtheentirearena.
Imethiseyesthroughtheflames.Theyseemedso,soredhere,surroundedbythecoldblue-whiteofmymagicandthepurple-blackofhis.Withinthem,Isawonlygrimresolve.Ofcourse.Hehadeverythingtofightfor.Peoplerelyingonhim.Peopleheneededtosave.Whateverwe’dbuilttogetherhadbeenabumponthatroad.
Hisnextstrikewastokill.
Raihnwassomuchbiggerthanme,somuchstronger.Iwasfaster,butnotbymuch—andnotwhenhiswingswereout.Heextendedthemnow,usingthemtohurlhimselfatme.Icouldn’treactquicklyenough.
Pain,ashisswordslicedopenmyarm.
Ipulledaway,panting,somewhatamazedIwasalive.
Raihn’sjawwasset,eyescold.
Whydiditsurpriseme,toseehimlookingatmethatway?Whydidithurt?Itshouldn’t.Ihadtoldhimtofight.Iwasahumangirlhe’dknownforafewmonths.Afriend,yes.Butfriendsdidn’texistinaplacelikethis.
Hecameaftermehard,again.
Isawmylifeflashbeforemyeyes.Myshort,patheticlife.EverydeadhumanIwastoolatetosave.Ilana’sbody,littlemorethantattersofflesh.Barelyanythinglefttoburn.
Youdon’thavetobethis,Oraya.
Shehadtoldmethatonce.
IsawdeathcomingformeattheedgeofRaihn’sblade,inthefocuseddeterminationofhisstare.
Shewasright.Ididn’t.Icouldmakemyselfsomethingbetter.
Raihn’sblowshouldhavebeenmydeath.Iwasalreadyteeteringonitsprecipice.
Butsomethingwasleftinsideofme.IralliedwitheverythingIhad.Letoutaroarofrage.NotatRaihn,butattheworldthathadputbothofushere.
Ididn’thavetothink.Didn’thavetosee.Ifoughtoninstinctalone,strikeafterstrikeafterstrike,meetinghardresistance,softresistance,meetingthepainofAsteris,theburnofNightfire.Meetingleatherarmor.
Andatlast,meetingflesh.Raihn’sflesh.
Ifrozewiththetipofmybladeathischest,somedistantinstinctscreaming,STOP
Thecrowdwasshriekinginutterdelight.
Raihnwasbeneathme.Nightfiresurroundedus.Blistersopenedoverhisskinlikedecayingroses.Ibecameawareoftheagonizingpainofeachbreath,eachmovement.
Hetrembled,too.I’dopenedpoison-mottledwoundsalloverhistorso,hisshoulders,hisarms,evenoneoverhischeek.Iwasbleedingfromtheoneshe’dinflictedonme,too,andbadly.AsIdrapedmyselfoverhim,pinninghimtotheground,hisbloodandminemingled—thefinalstrokesofhispainting,redandblack.
Mybladewasathischest.Hishandgrippedmywrist,hard.Hislipscurledintoasmirk.
Andhewhispered,“Theresheis.”
Allatonce,Irealizedwhathehadbeendoing.
Hehadbeenbaitingme,justlikehehadbaitedthemaninthefeastallthosemonthsago.Hehadbeenfightingmesohardtomakemefightbackwithjustasmuchstrength.
IhadtoldmyselfIwoulddoit.
Ihadworktodo.Peopletohelp.Powertogain.Icoulddononeofthatasahumanconstantlystrugglingtosurvive.
Atrickleofbloodatthetipofmyblade.Myhandshook.
“Endit,princess,”Raihnmurmured.
Endthedangerandthefearandtheviolence.
Endit,endit,endit—
No.Icouldn’t.Iwouldn’t.
ButRaihn’shandtightened.
Lookthemintheeyesasyouslidethebladein,Vincent’svoicewhispered.
No.Isqueezedmyeyesshut.IthoughtIwaspullingaway.
ButmaybeRaihnyankedmywrist.Maybehedrovethatbladeintohisownchest
Orperhapsmyvampireheartwonthebattle,afterall.
BecauseIfeltthebladeslip,slip,slip.Feltthebreastbonepart.Feltthemuscletear.IfeltthatbladegointomyownheartasitslidintoRaihn’s.
Thecrowderuptedintowild,gleefulwails.Warmthcoveredmyhands.Theweightbelowmeslackened.
Iopenedmyeyes.
Ihadwon.
Raihnwasdead.CHAPTERFORTY-NINE
No.
MyNightfirewitheredaway.
Raihn’sheadhadrolledbackintothesand.Hiseyeswerehalf-open,staringsightlesslytothecrowd.Thatstupidlittlesmilestillclungtohislips.
IhadjustgotteneverythingI’deverwanted.Allmygreatestdreamsfulfilled.
AndallIcouldthinkwas,No.
No,hewasn’tdead.Ihadn’tdonethat.IknewIhadn’t—Ihadn’tpushedthatbladein.Mymindgraspeddesperatelyatthoselastfewcrucialseconds.
Hecouldn’tbedead.
Hecouldn’t.
Distantly,asifinawholeotherworld,theMinistaer’svoiceechoedthroughthearena.
“Thetwenty-firstKejarihasitsvictor!”
Thedeliriouscheersofabloodthirstypopulacethrilledbytheirblood-soakedvictorfilledthecolosseum.
Ididn’tmove.
Ihadtoforcemyfingerstorelinquishtheirgriponmyblade.TheyghostedoverRaihn’slifelessface.Hisskinwasstillwarm.Mythumbsweptthatcurlatthecornerofhismouth.
“Raihn,”Ichoked,halfexpectinghimtoanswerme.
Hedidn’t.
Hedidn’tmove.
Ihadkilledhim.
Ihadkilledhim.
Oh,Mother,whathadIdone.
Igrippedhisfacewithbothhands.Mybreathcameindeep,painfulgasps.Myvisionblurred.
Ididn’tcrywhenIlanadied.Ihadn’tcriedsincethelasttimeIstabbedmylover.Isworetomyself—andtoVincent—thatnightthatIneverwouldagain
ButIhadbeenwrong.Ihadbeenwrongaboutso,somuch.Theworldhadjustlostanincredibleforce.Andmypresenceherewasnotenoughtomakeupforthat.
Inthisgame,onlyoneofuswouldwin.Anditshouldn’thavebeenme.Itshouldn’thavebeenme.
NothingexistedexceptforhimandthelightIhadjustsnuffedoutofthisworld.
Noteventhesoundsofthecrowd.NottheMinistaer’svoice,reverberatingthroughthestands,ashesaid,“Rise,victor.Risetogreetyourgoddess.”
No,Iheardnoneofthat.
Ionlyraisedmygazewhenitallwentsilent.Ashiverpassedovermyskin.Ilookedup—uptothesky.Itwasclearandbright,starsstarkagainstthevelvetnight.Mysightwassoblurrywithtearsthattheyflaredlikelittlesupernovas.
Or…
Mybrowfurrowed.
No.Itwasn’tmytears.Thestarsdidindeedbrighten,asiffedwithfreshkindling.Silverwisps,liketornscrapsofgossamer,swirledintheskyabovethecolosseum.Theairgrewvery,verystill,likeeverybreezehadbeenstolenforthebreathofagreaterbeing.
AgreaterbeingliketheGoddessofNight,ofBlood,ofShadowherself.HeirtotheCrownoftheDead.
Motherofvampires.
Thehairroseonmyarms.
“Bow,”theMinistaerwhispered.“BowforourMotheroftheRavenousDark,Nyaxia.”CHAPTERFIFTY
Ididnotneedtobow.Iwasalreadyonmyknees,andIcouldn’tbringmyselftostand.
IfeltherbeforeIsawher.
Ihadalwaysbeenabitofaskepticwhenitcametothegods.AsmuchaseveryoneinObitraeslikedtomoonoverNyaxiaandherincomprehensiblepower,Iwonderedifperhapssomeofitwasexaggerationormyth.
Inthismoment,thosedoubtsdisappeared.
BecausetheentiredamnedworldbowedtoNyaxia.Notjustthepeople,buttheair,thesky,theearth.Thesandshiftedbeneathmypalms,asifinchingtogetjustalittleclosertoher.Thenightwrithed,asifachingtobeinherlungs.
Everypartofmecalledtoher.Turn,turn,turn,thewindwhispered.
Still,IcouldnottearmyselfawayfromRaihn.
“Lookatme,mychild.”
Hervoicewasamillionshadesofamillionsounds,paintedovereachotherinexquisitelayers.History,power,griefdistilled.
IforcedmyselftoletgoofRaihn’sface,allowinghimtoslumptothesand,sickeninglylifeless.
Numbly,Irose.Turned.
Nyaxiastoodbeforeme.
Shewasnotaperson.Shewasanevent.
Mymindemptiedofthought,mylipsparting.Shefloatedjustabovetheground,delicatebarefeetpointedtothesand.Herhairwaslongandblack,tendrilsofnightfloatingaroundherasifcarriedbyanever-presentbreeze.Starsglintedinitsdarkness—no,notjuststars,buteveryinfiniteshadeofthesky.Dappledstreaksofdistantworlds.Purplesandbluesofgalaxies.Itwasnearlytoherknees,acurtainofnightaroundher.Herskinwasice-white,hereyesmidnight-black.Hernakedbodylookedtohavebeendippedinmeltedsilver,athousandshadesofplatinumplayingacrosseverydipofherform.Shadowscaressedhercurveswithdancingfragmentsofdarkness.
Hermouthwasbrightred.Asshesmiled,adropofblooddrippeddownherelegantpointedchin.
Iachedtotouchherskin.Achedtolickthedropofbloodfromhermouth.Ihadlearnedlongagothatvampirebeautywasdangerous,atrapsetwithsilverteeth.Theirallurewasmadetodrawinprey.
Nyaxia’salluredwarfedit,anditterrifiedme.
Irecognizedthis,andyetinthismoment,whenthefullforceofherpresencehitme,Iwouldhavediedforher.Iwouldhavekilledforher.Iwouldhaveshiveredinecstasyifshehadofferedmeagonybythosestunningblood-dippedfingertips.
Istruggledtosteadymyself.Therawnessofmygriefhadopenedme,thetearithadcutinmyarmortoowidetopatch.
Nyaxiasteppedtothesands,eachfootfallsilent.Shebentdownandcradledmyfaceinherhands.Hereyes,allblack,heldthewaningglowofadyingsunset,revealingadifferentshadeoftheskyeverytimesheturnedherhead.
“Oraya.”
Shesaidmynametheonlywayitwasevermeanttobesaid.
Asmiletwistedherlips.Shelookedoverhershoulder.
“Shehasyoureyes,”shelaughed.
Vincent.ShewaslookingatVincent.Itoremygazeawayfromher.Hehadpressedupagainsttherail,unblinking.Prideandanticipationwarredoverhisface.Hiseyesshone.
“Mydaughter,OrayaoftheHouseofNight,”Nyaxiasaid.“Youhavefoughthardandfoughtwell.Tellme,mychampion.WhatmightIgrantyouasyourgift?”
Champion.
Fought.
ThosewordsdestroyedthetemporaryhazeofNyaxia’spresence.TherealityofwhereIstood—ofwhatIhaddonetobehere—crasheddownaroundme.
Thegriefwasunbearable.AmillionjaggededgesofamilliondecisionsIcouldhavemadedifferently.TheburnofRaihn’sbloodonmyhands.
Nyaxia’sdevastatingfacewentthoughtful.Thosenight-hewneyesfelltoRaihn’slifelessbody.
“Yougrieve,mychild.”
IcouldnottellifitwassympathyIheardinhervoice.
Ididn’tansweraloud,butsheheardmyresponseanyway.
“Iknowgrief,”shesaid,voicesoft.“Iknowwhatitistolosehalfofone’ssoul.”
Halfofone’ssoul.Itdidfeelthatway.HehadtakenmoreofmethanIthoughthewouldwhenhewent.
StormcloudsswirledinthenightofNyaxia’sstare.“Tohavesuchathingstolenfromyouisagreatlossindeed.”Lightningfadedastheyturnedbacktome.“Butperhaps,too,itisablessing,mychild.Suchapurelove,distilledforeverinitsinnocence.Aflowerfrozeninbloom.”
Herfingerscaressedmythroat,drifteddowntomychest,lingeringthere—asiffeelingformyhumanpulse.“Adeadlovercanneverbreakyourheart.”
Wasthathowshefeltaboutherdeadhusband?
Ifso,Ienviedher.Becauseshewaswrong.Myheartwasalreadybroken.Ithadcrackedinathousandmomentsoverthelasttwentyyears.Thefirstblowcamethenightmyfamilydied.Onlynow,bymyownhand,diditshatter.
EverythingIhadeverwantedwaswithinmygrasp.
Power.Strength.Icouldneverbeafraidagain.Icouldmakemyselfthepredatorinsteadoftheprey,thehunterinsteadofthehunted,therulerinsteadofthesubject.Icouldmakemyselfamonstertofear.Icouldmakemyselfsomethingtoremember,insteadofanotherfadingmortallifetoforget.
Everythingwasrighthere.
Twohundredyearsago,Vincenthadmadethisdecision.Hehadsacrificedeverything.
AndsohadNyaxia.Hergriefbecameherpower.Sheforgeditintoaweaponsharpenoughtocarveawholenewworld.
Iunderstoodnow.Italwayshappenedthisway.Lovewasasacrificeatthealtarofpower.
MygazefoundVincent’s.Hewasnotblinking,wasnotbreathing.
Myfatherwhohadtaughtmehowtosurvive,howtokill,howtofeelnothing.PerhapsIdidn’tsharehisblood,butIwashischildineveryothersenseoftheword,andhelovedmetheonlywayheknewhow.Attheedgeofablade.
Iswallowedthesudden,desperatedesiretoknowhowhehadfeltwhenhestoodinmyplace,twohundredyearsago.Didheswearthathewouldbebetterthantheonewhocamebeforehim?
Nyaxia’ssmilerolledovermycheeklikethecoldlightofthemoon.
“Theyalwayshavedreams,”shemurmured,answeringthequestionIdidnotask.“Andhiswerethegrandestofall.Tellme,whatisyours,mychild?”
Icradledmywishinmyweakmortalheart.PerhapsIwasmorehumanthanVincentthought,afterall.
MyfathertaughtmetolookthemintheeyeasIslidthebladeintotheirheart.Andso,IdidnotlookawayfromhisasItoldNyaxia,“IwishthatRaihnhadwon.”
Vincent’sfacewentwhite.
Nyaxia’slaughsoundedliketheshiftingoffates.CHAPTERFIFTY-ONE
NyaxiadidnotaskmeifIwassure.Sheknewmysoul.SheknewIwas.
“Asyouwish,”shesaid,asifIhadjustdonesomethingveryamusingindeed.
Iwasn’tsurewhatIwasexpecting—maybesomedramaticflashoflightorstormofdarkness,orhell,maybethatIwoulddisappearcompletely—butnoneofithappened.
No,itturnsoutthatfatechangingisasubtlebeast.Theairturnsjustalittlecolder,thedirectionofthewindjustalittlelost.Youlookdownandsuddenlyyourhandsareshaking,holdingthebladethat,secondsandanotherrealityago,hadbeenlodgedinyourlover’schest.
Ilookedup,andRaihnwasalive.
Hesuckedinagreatgulpofair,hishandsclutchingathischest—atthewoundthatwasnolongerthere.
Thecrowdmurmuredandgasped.
Ididn’tlookatthem.Raihndidn’t,either.Instead,hisgazeshottome.Onlyme.HelookedatmebeforeheevenlookedatNyaxia.
Thetearsthatprickedmyeyesnowwereofrelief.
Itwasworthit.Ialreadyknewit.EvenifIneversawhimagain.Itwouldhavebeenworthit.
Confusiontangledinhisexpressionasherubbedhischest.
“Hello,RaihnAshraj,myNightbornson,”Nyaxiapurred.“VictoroftheKejari.”
Raihn’sconfusionturnedtorealization.Thenturnedto…
To…
Mybrowfurrowed.
Thatwasn’trelief.Thatwasanguish
“Oraya,”hechokedout.“Whatdidyou—”
“Rise,”Nyaxiacommanded.“Rise,myson.AndtellmehowImayrewardyourvictory.”
Raihndidnotspeakforalongmoment.Thatsilenceseemedtostretchamillionyears.Atlast,heroseandapproachedNyaxia.Herfingersstrokedhischeek,leavingintheirwakelittlepathsofblood.
“My,whatalongtimeithasbeen,”shecrooned.“EvenfatedidnotknowifIwouldseethisfaceagain.”
“Likewise,mylady,”Raihnsaid.
Vincent’sjawwassotightittrembled,hisknuckleswhiteathissides,backstraight.Hiswingsquivered,asifhehadtoholdhimselfbackfromflyingdownhere.
Nyaxia’seyesdancedwithamusement—terrifyingamusement.
Mystomachclenchedtight.Ididnotliketoseethatlevelofdelight.Thekindofdelightthatpromisedbloodshed.
Nyaxialikesherchildrensquabbling.
Something…somethingwasnotright.
“Tellme,myson,whatisyourprize?”
Theworldhelditsbreath.Raihnbowedhishead.
Inthecrowd,IglimpsedSeptimuspushingforwardthroughthestands,ahungrygrinspreadingoverhislips.
WhywasSeptimuslookingsopleased,ifhischampionhadfallen?
Raihnsaid,“Twohundredyearsago,youcametothisplaceandgrantedthewinneroftheKejariawish.YousealedawaythepoweroftheRishanNightbornKing.”
ThesmirkonNyaxia’slipshadgrowntoagrin,andwithit,mystomachsank
“Iwishforthatpower,mylady.IwishforittoberestoredtotheRishanHeirline.Iwishforittoberestoredtome.”
Restored?
Nyaxialaughed,lowandsilken.“Iwonderedwhenthismighthappen.Yourwishisgranted,RaihnAshraj,TurnedHeiroftheRishanking.”
What?
Myeyeswentwide.Itookseveralstepsback,towardsthestands.Somespectatorswerelaughing,soakingupthedramaofitall.Butothers,mostlyHiaj,hadstartedtouneasilybackoutthroughthecrowd.
Nyaxiacuppedherhandsbeforeher.
“Congratulationsonyourvictory.”
Raihnlookedonlyatme,dismayedapologyoverhisface,asNyaxia’shandsopenedoverhischest,herlipspressingtohisforehead.
Theburstofpowerrearrangedtheworld.
Everythingwentwhite,thenblack.Buttherealforceoftheshiftwasdeeperthanthat.Atanygivenmoment,onecouldfeelVincent’spowerinnately—thekindofpowerkissedbytheGoddessherself.Now,twopolarextremesyankedinoppositedirections.
Iliftedmyhandtoshieldmyeyes.Whenthelightfaded,RaihnwasstandingbeforeVincent’sbox.Hiswingsburstforth—amillioncolors,blackasnight,withonenotableexception:
Red,paintedattheirtips.
Iletoutastranglednoise.
BecauseRaihn’sarmorhadbeensobadlydamagedthatwhenhiswingsflungout,mostoftheleatherhadrippedaway,revealingthelandscapeofscarsoverhisback.ThescarsfromVincent’storture,yes.Butalsotheolderone,theonethatstartedathisupperbackandrandownhisspine.
Nowlightburnedthroughthatscartissue,streaksofredpiercingthemottledflesh.Itformedadesign—fivephasesofthemoonoverthetopofhisshoulders,andaspearofsmokedownthecenterofhisback.
Amark.
AnHeirMark.
Itbloomedtolifeasifawakenedbyasuddenburstofpower.Evenifitsownerhadonce,longago,triedtoburnitoffhisskin.
Fuck.Fuck.WhathadIdone?Goddess,whathadIdone?
BynowtheHiajspectatorsunderstoodwhatwashappening.Peopletrampledeachotherinthestandstryingtoescape,takingtotheskyortoanyopenexitsinclumsymasses.
Adeafeningcracksoundedfrombeyondthecolosseum.Itshooktheground,followedbyadeepgrinding—likestoneshattering.Likecitywallsfalling.Likeanempirecrumbling.
Soldierspouredfromtheentrancesofthecolosseum.SoldierswearingtheredandwhiteoftheHouseofBlood.Septimuswatcheditallandsmiled.
Adeadlovercanneverbreakyourheart,Nyaxia’svoicewhisperedtome,taunting.
ItwasallIcouldhearasVincentspreadhiswingsanddrewhissword.
Hedidn’tmoveasRaihnapproachedhim.No,Vincentneverbackeddownfromathreat.He’dfacehischallengerhead-on.
No.
Ididn’trememberdrawingmyblades.Ijuststartedrunning.ImadeithalfwayupthestepstoVincent’sbalconybeforesomeonegrabbedme.Ididn’tknowwho.Didn’tcare.Didn’tlook.
Ineededtogettohim.
Ineededtogettohimrightnow,rightnow,rightnow—
Raihn’slipcurled.“Youdon’tevenknowwhoIam,doyou?”
Vincentdidnotdignifythiswitharesponse.Instead,helunged.
Acryleapttomythroat.
VincentwasoneofthebestwarriorsinallofNyaxia’skingdoms.AndyetRaihnstruckhimdownmid-movement,asifhewerenothing.PowerswelledandsparkedatRaihn’sfingertips—flashesoflightanddarkness,likestarsthemselves,dwarfingeventheforceofhisAsterisinthering.
Ithrashedagainstwhoeverheldmeback—thrashedsohardthatsoonanothersetofhandsjoinedthefirst—
“Wemet,”Raihnsaid.“Twohundredyearsago.Thedayyoutookpowerandopenedariverofbloodinthiscity.ThedayyouslaughteredyourownfamilyandeveryRishanman,woman,andchildwithinthesewalls.ThedayyoukilledanyoneyouthoughtevenhadthesliverofachanceoftakingtheRishanHeirlineandchallengingyoufortheHouseofNight.”HepushedVincent’sswordawaywithaburstofpower,sendingitclatteringtothefloor.“Well.Youmissedone.”
RaihngrabbedVincent’sthroat.TheredofVincent’sHeirMarksputteredinfitsandstarts,asifrepelledbythegripofitsnaturalenemy.AsickeningCRACKasRaihnpushedVincent’sbodytothesmoothstoneofthewall,smearingcrimson-blackoverwhitemarble.
Horriblecertaintyfelloverme.
Iwasabouttowatchmyfatherdie.
Ifoughtharder.Twosetsofhandsbecamethree.SomeoneyelpedasIstabbedatthem.
RaihnyankedVincentcloser,theirheadsbowing.Vincentsaidsomethingtohim,muchtooquietlyformetohear.
Thenhisheadturned—slowly,asifittookallhisstrength—tolookatme.
Raihnlookedatme,too.Andforamoment,thathateonhisfacewasreplacedwithprofound,torturedregret.Icouldn’thearanythingovermyfranticscream,buthislipsformedthewords,Lookaway.
Iscreamedsomething—perhapsacurse,aplea.Iwouldneverremember.
AndIdidnotlookaway.
NotasmagicflaredatRaihn’stouch.
NotasVincent’sbodyflewbackagainstthewallwithenoughforcetoturnbonestoliquid.
No,IdidnotlookawayasIwatchedRaihnkillmyfather.CHAPTERFIFTY-TWO
Vincent’sbodyhittherailingandfelltothesand,alongdropfromthebalcony.
Ididn’tknowwhatsoundsIwasmaking,onlythattheywereraggedandanimalisticandviolent.ItwastheNightfirethatmadethemfinallyletmego.Inasuddenburst,itengulfedme.
NotthatInoticed,orcared.
Istumbleddownthesteps.Crossedthesandinseverallongstrides.IcollapsednexttoVincent.
Hewasstillalive,barely.Butitwasatestamenttohispowerthatheevenmanagedtosurvivethesefewseconds.Hisbodyhadbeendestroyed—skinreplacedwithscaldedflesh,bonesrearrangedandcrushed,thatelegantcoldfacetwistedandblood-smeared.Hiseyes,moon-silver,werebrighterthaneverpeeringthroughthatgore.
Growingup,IhadthoughtVincentwasuntouchable.Hecouldnotbleed.Hecouldnotbreak.Hecertainlycouldnotdie.
Butthemanbeforemewasbrokenineveryway.Acollectionofdestroyedmuscleandtissue,andaheartthatwasjustassoftasmineintheend.
Hiseyesglistened.Onemangledhandreachedforme.Igrabbedit.
“Iamsosorry,mylittleserpent.”Eachwordwashard-fought.“Iwasgoingto—Iwasgoingtotell—”
Ijustkeptshakingmyhead.TearsmarkedlittlepoolsofcleanskinonVincent’sface.Imanagedonegarbledword:“Stop.”Stopspeaking.Stopdying.Stopleavingme.
Buthedidn’t.
“Iloveyou.Ilovedyoufromthefirstmoment.”Bubblesofbloodformedatthecornersofhismouth.Hisgazedriftedpastme,tothenightsky.Thenitdraggedbacktome—themovementslow,laborious,likehewasworkingveryhardtomakesureIwasthelastthinghesaw.“Somanymistakesintheend,”hechokedout.“Neveryou.”
Fortherestofmylife,IwouldwishIhadsaidsomethingtomyfatherashediedinmyarms.Hewasaterriblepersoninsomanyways.AndyetIlovedhim.
Ilovedhim.
Itoldhimsothreesecondstoolate,whenhiseyeshadgoneblank.
Thegrieftoremeapartinitsjaws.SomuchworsethanIeverthoughtitwouldbe.
No.
Ipreferredanger.
Blue-whiteflamesconsumedmyvision.Everymusclecoiled.IguardedVincent’sbodylikeawolfoverherden—aserpentoverhernest.
Somethinghadbeenrippedopeninsideofme,andwhateverhadbeenwithinthatcarefullyguardedboxwastoomuchformetocontrol.Painandsorrowandfurypouredthroughme,pouredandpouredand—
Inthedistance,Iheardshouting.Itgrewcloser.
Someonegrabbedme.
Ifoughtthemoninstinct,railedagainsttheirhold.Icouldn’tgripmyownmagic—thedamofmyrestrainthadshattered,leavingitgushinginuncontrollablewaves.Flamesroaredatmyhands,myarms,peeledfrommyskin.
ItwasRaihnwhofinallydraggedmeback.
IhatedthatIknewitwashimrightaway.Knewhimbyscentandtouchaloneashepulledmebackagainsthim,armsaroundmyshoulders.
“He’sgone,Oraya,”hemurmuredintomyear.
They’redead,littlehuman,hehadsaidtome,thefirsttimehehadmetme.
They’redead.They’realldead.
I’ddroppedmybladessomewhere.Ihadnoweapons.Onlymyflames,whichweresofarbeyondmycontrolthatIcouldhaveburnedthecolosseumtotheground.ButiftheyhurtRaihn,hedidn’tshowit.Hespunmearound,heldmefirmbymyarms.
“Breathe,Oraya.Comebacktome.Please.”
Hesaidthislikehecared.
Likehefuckingcared
Ihatedhim.Iwasreadytodieforhimandhekilledmyfather,andheliedtome,andhe—he—
AndyetthesightofRaihn’spain,oftheskinonhischeeksslowlyscorching,mademedrawinagulpofair.
Hegavemeaweaksmile.“You’resafe.”
Ineverwantedhimtosaythosewordstomeeveragain.
Peoplesurroundedusnow.Rishanwarriorsclusteredinthearena.Dimly,IrecognizedCairiswatchingusnearby,swordinhand,andKeturanotfarbeyondhim.Whendidallthesepeoplegethere?
Icouldn’torientmyself.SomethingIcouldnotnamewasso—sodifferent.Theflamesslowlyebbed.YetIstillfeltlikeIwasburningfromwithin.Istruggledtobreathe.Mychesthurt—myneckhurt.
AstheNightfirewithered,Raihn’seyesloweredtomythroat.
Horrorfelloverhisface.
“Oraya,whatis—”
“Fuck.”Cairissteppedcloser,hiseyeswide.“Isthat—FUCK.”
What?
Ilookeddownatmyself.
Redinkhadspreadovermychest.
Cairisgasped,“She’safuckingHeir.”CHAPTERFIFTY-THREE
Mymindstoppedworking.
Iwasn’tVincent’sdaughter.Notbyblood.HehadneverevenTurnedme.
Icouldn’tbeanHeir.
YettheMarkwasthere,unmistakable.Icouldonlyseetheedgeofit,butIcouldfeelit—feelitburningintotheskinofmythroat,clavicle,upperchest
“That’snot—”Ichokedout.“Ican’tbe—”
Raihnstillheldmyshoulders.Hislipshadparted,butwordsescapedhim.
“Killher,”Cairissaid,nottakinghiseyesoffofme,likeifhedidImightattack.“Rightnow.”
Chaosexplodedaroundus.Acrowdpushedcloser.Keturawasalreadydrawinghersword.Andsodidsomanyothers—allthoseRishansoldiersinbattle-readyarmor,readytokillme.Oneevenwentsofarastolungeforme.
Buttheninoneabruptmovement,Raihnyankedmeback.Hespunmearound,holdingmeclosetohim,sotightIcouldn’tmove.
“No.”Hisvoicewasforeignandcold.NothinglikethemanIknew.“Ihavebetterplansforher.”
TheRishanhesitated,confused.Inthebackground,Septimus’slipscurledasheraisedhiscigarillotohismouth.
“ItookVincent’skingdom,”Raihnsnarled.“Itookhislife.Itookhistitle.Andnow,Iwilltakehisdaughter.I’llmakehermywife.Keepherclose,whereIcankeepaneyeonher.AndI’llmakesureithurtswhenIfuckher,justlikeitdidwhenherapedourqueentwohundredyearsago.”
Icouldn’tevenprocesswhatIwashearing.
Sodifferent.Mother,Raihnwassogoodatperformances.ButIdidn’tknowwhichonewasrealanymore.Whichversionofhimwastrue.
Iletthismanintomybed.Intomybody.Thismanwhonowboastedaboutrapingmetoagaggleofraptsoldiers.
Theyhesitated.Iknewwhattheywerethinking—thatitwasfoolish.Butvampireslovedsexandbloodshed.Lovedpainandpower.Whenallthosethingswerecombined?Theycouldhardlyresist.
“Thinkofthat.”Raihn’sfacewasrightnexttomineashegrippedmeagainsthisbody.Iglimpsedhiswolfish,feralgrinoutofthecornerofmyeye.“Howmuchmoreinterestingthandeathforher.TherecanbenootherHiajHeiraslongasshelives.AndI’dhappilymakehermylittleslaveforever,justasVincentwashappytomaketheRishanhis.”HejerkedhisheadtoVincent’sbody.“MaybeI’llevenprophimupsohecanattendhisdaughter’swedding.”
Anditwasthis—thisfinalsprinkleofnauseatingsavagery—thatwonthemover.Thesoldierslaughed.Cairislookedunconvinced,steppingbackonlyslightly.AndKeturadidnotsheathehersword,stillseeminglyreadytoskewermeherself.
ButRaihndidn’tgiveanyonetimetoargue.Hemotionedtothedistance—tothecarnagewithinthecolosseumwallsandbeyondit.“Go.Goreclaimyourkingdom.Andletmedealwithher.”
Theyobeyedhim.AndRaihn,ashepromised,dealtwithme.
Ifoughthim.ButRaihn’spowerhadbecomesomethingelsealtogether,andminewasexhaustedbymyoutburst.Hedraggedmeacrossthesand,ignoringmyweakstruggles.
Aroundus,theentireworldburned.Themoonandstarshadbeenblottedoutwithsmokethecolorofdriedblood.HouseofBloodandRishanwarriorspouredintothecolosseum,makingquickworkofHiajwhoresisted.Thesoundsofdeathechoedthroughthenight.
AsRaihnpulledmeaway,myeyeslandedonVincent’sbody,littlemorethanpulpinthesand.
Hedidnotlooklikeakinganymore.
“I’msosorry,Oraya,”Raihnwhispered,themomentwewereoutofearshot.“I’m—I’mjustsofuckingsorry.”
Sorry.ThewordbroughttomindVincent’sfinalapology.Finaldeclarationoflove.HowmanytimeshadIlongedtohearthosewordsfromhim?
Anddiditevenmatter,intheend?
“Ihateyou,”IspatatRaihn.
Hisfingersbrushedmyface.Littlewispsofshadowtrailedthem.Darkness.Sleep.Toopowerfulformetofight.
ThelastthingIheardwasRaihn’swhisperof,“Theresheis.”CHAPTERFIFTY-FOUR
Iwokeupwithastart.Sweatplasteredmyclothingtomyskin.
Iknowthisceiling.Silverstarsonceruleanglass.Ipushedmyselfup.Thefamiliarityofthisplacehurtsomuchmybreathhitched.
Myroom.ThechambersIhadspentthelastsixteenyearsofmylifein.Ihadlefthereonlyafewshortmonthsago,butIreturnedadifferentperson.
Thegirlwhohadlivedherewasachild.NowIwas…
Ididn’tevenknowanymore.
Theeventsofthetrialcamebacktomeinflashes,eachtwistdrivingastakedeeperanddeeperintomyheart.Ipressedmyhandtomychestandsqueezedmyeyesshut.
IsawVincent’sbloodiedface.
SawRaihnkillinghim.
Iletoutashakyexhalethatsoundedsuspiciouslyclosetoasob.
Butno.Iwouldn’tcry.Iwouldnotfuckingcry.
Ileaptoutofbed.Myleathersweregone.Soweremyblades.Iworeonlyloosesilkpantsandalightcamisole,bothinmidnightblue.
Fine.AtleastIcouldmoveinit.Icouldfindsomethingtofightwith,couldfindawindowtosmash.Icould—Icould—
Iglimpsedmyselfinthemirror,andfroze.
Darknessshadowedmyeyes,makingtheirsilvermoon-bright,justasVincent’shadbeen.Mycheekswerebruisedandhollow.Someonehadhealedme,butremnantsofcutsandburnsstillpaintedmybarearms.
AndtheMark—
TheMark—
Ihadtostareatitforalongmoment,becausemymindcouldn’treconcilewhatIwasseeing.I’dthoughttheremusthavebeensomemisunderstanding,someconfusion.
Butno.ItwasanHeirMark,unmistakable,carvedontomyflesh.Itadornedmythroat,likeVincent’shad.Acircleatthebaseofmyneck,cradledbytheinnercurveofmyclavicle.Irealizedafteralongmomentofstaringatitthatitdepictedallphasesofthemoonlayeredontopofeachother.Beneathit,smokelinesunfurledlikepetalscradlingarose,extendingupmyneckandoverthewidthofmyshoulders.Thesmokecametofourpointsoneachside—likethetalonsofHiajwings.
Itwasdarkinhere.Theglowofthecrimsonlinesseemedparticularlyintense.Itpulsedwiththequickeningofmyheartbeat.Wispsoffaintredsmokepeeledfromeachlineofink.
Iclaspedmyhandstogether.Tight,tight,tight—likeifIcouldforcethemtostopshaking,Icouldforcemyselfintocomposure.Icouldnotaffordtobeanythingbutcomposed.
Yetmymindcouldformonlyoneword:
How?
Howcouldthisbe?Iwashuman.
Click,asthedoorknobunlocked.
Iwhirledaround.
WhenthedooropenedandRaihnsteppedinside,Iwasready.Ithrewmyselfonhim.
Ihadnoweapons.Andmymagic—eveninthisnew,awakenedstate—refusedtocomewhenmyragecalledforit.Perhapstheyhaddruggedme,dampeneditsomehow.
Fine.Ihadmyteethandfingernails.Iattackedhimlikeananimal.
MaybeRaihnhadbeenexpectingthis,becausehecounteredmeimmediately.Islippedhisgraspfourtimesbeforefinallyherestrainedmebybruteforcealoneandshovedmetothebed.
Hepressedhiswholeweightoverme.Hisfacewasinchesaway,ournosesnearlybrushing.
“Calmdown,Oraya.I’mnotgoingto—”
Calmdown?
Calmdown?
Hewincedathisownwords.“Just—Oraya,I—”
IturnedmyheadandsankmyteethintohisarmashardasIcould.
HehissedacurseasIspathisbloodontothebedspread.Istillcouldn’tgetfree.Theweightofhisbody,andthewhite-knuckledholdhehadonmyshoulderwithhisotherarm,keptmefrommoving.
“Ihavesomuchtoexplaintoyou,”hesaid,“ifyou’llletme.Oraya—stopfightingme.”
“Why?”Ishotback.“Tomakeiteasierforyoutorapeme?”
Anotherwince.
“IsaidwhatIhadtosaytosaveyourlife,”hehissed.
Tosavemylife.
LikeIhadsavedhis.
Ihadchosenhimovermyownfather,overmyownpower,andnowVincentwasdeadandtheHiajhadbeenoverthrownandthefuckingHouseofBloodwasinSivrinaj—
Ihadfuckedup.Ihadfuckedupso,sobadly.AndIwantedtoclawRaihn’seyesoutforthat.Mother,Iwanteditmorethananything.
ButIwantedanswersmore.
Igrittedmyteeth.Loweredmychin.
Raihneyedmewarily.
“IfIletyougo,”hesaid,“willyouattackme?”
IgenuinelycouldnotbringmyselftopromisethatIwouldn’t.
“I’lltrynotto.”
“Imadesurethateverysinglethingthatcouldpossiblybeusedasaweaponhadbeenremovedfromthisroom.”
“I’msureyoumissedsomething.”
Thesmilethattwistedthecornerofhismouthseemedmoremournfulthanamused.“Gladtoknowyou’restillinthere,princess.”
Heletmego.
Iscrambledtomyfeet,puttingseveralstridesbetweenus.Inoticedhimwatchthedistancewiden.IwonderedifhewasthinkingthesamethingIwas—ofhowIusedtomovethatwayeverytimewewereinthesameroomtogether.
IwonderedifIimaginedthathelookedalittlesad.
IwouldbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tfeelapangofit,too.BecausethepersonIhadtrustedwasRaihn.Thisman…Ididn’tevenknowwhohewas.
Hisgazelingeredonme.Lingeredonmythroat.
“How?”hesaidsoftly.
ItseemedalmostshamefultosaythatIdidn’tknow.Ididn’twanttoadmitaloudhowlittleIknewaboutthetwomenwhohadbecomesoclosetome.
“Youfirst,”Isaid.
“Ineverliedtoyou.”
Hespokesoquickly,likehe’dbeenwaitingfordaystosaythistome.
Whatafuckingjoke.
“Whatdoesthatevenmean?”Isneered.“Thatyouchoseyourtruthssofuckingcarefully?Thatyoupickedeachwordtoshieldthethingsyouwouldn’tsaytome?”
Heraisedhispalms,asiftosay,Fairenough.
“Iwasn’treadytoconfrontanyofthis,either.Trustme.”
“Saywordsthatactuallymeansomething,”Isnapped.
“EverythingItoldyouwasthetruth,”hesaid.“Therewasjust…more.”
“Whatdoesthat—”
“ThemanwhoTurnedmewasNeculaiVasarus.KingNeculai.”
Myjawsnappedshut.
TheRishanking.ThekingthatVincenthadmurderedandusurped.
“Ibetrayedhim,”Raihnbitout.“ThedaythatVincentwontheKejari.IarrangedforVincenttogetthekeystothestrongholds.Handedovereverythingheneededtodestroytheentirefuckingkingdominexchangeforthesafetyoftheinnocents.Henevermetmeinperson.Neverknewmyname.Neversawme.ButIknewitwasallalreadygoingtofallapart.Ijustthought…maybeIcouldpoursomeoilonthefire.Burnitfaster,andkeepitfromtakingallofuswithit.Ihateditallthatmuch.”
Icouldn’tspeak.
“ButIshouldhaveknownbetter,”hesaid.“IgotthefuckoutbeforeNeculaicouldfigureoutwhatI’ddone,thinkingI’darrangedforthesafetyofthosewhoneededit.ItriedtogetNessanyntocomewithme.Shewouldn’t.SoIleftherbehind.Ileftallofthembehind.TrustingVincent’sword.”Hisfacewenthard,hateful.“Weknowhowthatworkedout.”
Rapeherthewayherapedourqueen,Raihnhadsaid.
Bileroseinmythroat.Vincentwasnosaint.Butsurelyhewouldn’t—hecouldn’thave—
“Didhe—”
RaihnseemedtoknowexactlywhatIwasthinking.“Idon’tknow.AllIknowisthatNessanynwasoneofthelasttodie.”
Iwasgoingtothrowup.
Bysomemiracle,Ididn’t.Ikeptmyfaceperfectlystill.
“IwasfarawaybythetimeIsawthis.”Hetouchedhisback—hisMark.“Itneveroccurredtomethatitcouldhappen.Iwasn’tNeculai’sbloodrelative,ofcourse.NotBorn.Turned.IthoughtHeirscouldonlybeBorn,andIwascontenttolettheentirebastardlineofthemdieout.ButintheabsenceofaBornHeir,apparently,aTurnedonecounted.”Hismouthtwistedintoawry,disgustedsmile.“Howfuckingpoetic.TheTurnednobody,handedthepowerofanentirekingdombythemanwhoenslavedhim.”
Achillranupmyspine.
“Iwantednopartofit.ThefirstthingIdidwastrytogetridoftheMark.Nearlykilledmyselfburningitoff.Ididn’twanttorulethisplace.AndIcertainlydidn’twanttotakehistitle.”Helookedaround,awrinkleformingoverhisnose—Iwonderedifhewasseeingadifferentversionofthisroom,fromtwohundredyearsinthepast.“Ididn’tevenwanttocomebacktothiscastle.Toomanybadmemories.SoVincentsealedawaytheRishanline’spower,andheruled,andIran.”Hiseyesfellbacktome.“Until.”
Untilitcaughtuptohim.HisguiltoverthoseNessanynhadwantedhimtoprotect.Mische,andherdesiretousehispowertobuildsomethingbetter.
Allthisbloodshedoverafuckingfairytale.
“SotheKejariwastoyouwhatitwastoVincent,”Isaid.Apathtostealacrown.
Raihn,tohiscredit,didnotdenyit.“Yes.”
“Andme?”Ichokedout.“IsthatwhatIwas,too?”
HelookedasifIhadstruckhim.“No,Oraya.No.”
“Idon’tbelieveyou.”
“Whatdoyouwantmetotellyou?ThatIdidn’tchooseyouasanallybecauseofyourrelationshipwithVincent?Yes.Idid.AndeverythingelseItoldyouwastrue,too.ThatIthoughtyouwouldbeeasytokillafter.ThatIwouldlearnfromyou,andthengetridofyouaftertheHalfmoon,anditwouldallbeeasy.AsifIshouldn’thaveknownfromtheminuteyoustabbedmethatnothingwouldbeeasywithyou.”
Heletoutasoundthatwasashadeofalaugh.“MaybethatwaswhyIpickedyou,too.Becauserightaway,Ilikedyou,princess.Iwascuriousaboutyou.Youremindedmeofme.Someonedifferent.Afterafewhundredyears,everyoneseemsthesame.Notyou.Notfromthatfirstnight.Sono,nopartofthatwasalie,Oraya.Trustme,itwouldbesimplerifitwas.”
Mychesthurtsomuch.
Iwantedhimtobelying.Itwouldbeeasyifhewaslying.Easytohatehimifourfriendship,our…relationship,hadbeennothingbutaperformance.
ButIknewitwasn’t,evenbeforeIasked.Ithadallbeenreal.
“WhyistheHouseofBloodwithinourwalls?”Iasked.
Raihndidnotwanttoanswerthisquestion.Iknewhowhelooked,bynow,whenhewasashamedofsomethinghewasabouttosay.
“Ittakesmanpowertowinawar,”hesaid.“Heirorno.TheHiajwerenevergoingtogodownwithoutafight,evenifIkilledVincent.Andheknewthat,too.He’dbeencarefultowhittledowntheRishanpopulationoverthelastcoupleofcenturies.IfIwasgoingtodothis,Ineededwarriors.Manyofthem.Septimusknewthat.”
Mypalmswerecoldandsweaty.
“Iresisted,”hesaid.“Idon’tevenknowhowhefoundoutwhoIwas.Idon’tknowhowheknewwhatIwasplanning.Irippedapartmyowninnercirclelookingforwhoeverthesourcewas.AndhewasinsistentthattheHouseofBloodcouldhelp.Onefavor,hetoldme,andthefullforceoftheHouseofBloodwasmine.Itoldhimtogofuckhimself.Ithoughtwewouldhaveenough.Butthen…”
ThenthestrikeontheMoonPalace.SoneatlyblamedupontheRishan.GivingVincentfullpermissiontokillthemindiscriminately.
“Theattacks.”
Raihnnodded.“OnceVincentwassetlooseontheRishan,itwasover.Beforeitwouldhavebeendifficult,butmaybe—maybe—possible.Afterthat?Therewasnoway.”
“DidSeptimus—”
“FrametheRishan?”Hisfacehardened.“Ican’tproveit.ButIthinkthebastardcreatedaproblemhewouldbetheonlysolutionto.Itriedeveryotherway.Everything.Andevenwheneveryotheroptionwasexhausted,Istilltoldhimno.Until…”
Everythingclickedtogetheratonce.
Thefinaltrial.Angelikacomingafterme—onlyme.ThewayRaihnhadlookedpastme,uptothestands.
Thatlittlenod.
“Youfuckingidiot,”Ichokedout.
Raihnsteppedcloser,andIlethim.
“Iwasreadytoletitallgoforyou,”hemurmured.“Doyouknowthat,Oraya?Iwasreadytoletmykingdomfallforyou.Youshouldhaveletmestaydead.”
Becauseifhewasgone,therewasnoonetohonortheBloodborn’sdeal.
Hemadeadeadman’sbargaintosavemeknowingthathewouldnotdeliveronit.Ihadn’timaginedit.Hehadpulledmywrist.Hehadhelpedushermyknifeintohisheart.
UntilIhadbroughthimback.
Hetookanotherstep.Andagain,Ilethim.
“Thatis,”Irasped,“thestupidestplanIhaveeverheard.”
Andagain,ahumorlesssmileflittedoverhislips.“Maybe,”headmitted.“Desperatemendodesperatethings.AndI—Ibelievedinyou,Oraya.Ibelievedifyouwon,youwouldseizepowerinyourownway.IbelievedthatyouwoulduseittoaccomplishallthesamethingsIwantedtodo,andprobablydoitbetter,anyway.Andyouwouldn’tevenneedtosellyourowngods-damnedkingdomtoanimalstodoit.”Thesmiletwisted,becomingsomethingofagrimace.“Sowasitreallyastupidplan?”
Yes.Heputfartoomuchfaithinme.Justsomenobodyhuman.
Human.
Thewordsetmyworldoff-kilter.Oftheirownaccord,myfingersmovedtomythroat.
Raihn’seyesfollowedthem.“Didyouknow?”
Iknewhimwellbythispoint.ItwasalmostcomfortingthatIcouldhearthehintofbetrayalinthequestion.Betrayal!Thatwasrich.LikeIhaddeceivedhim
“Itmustbeamistake.Idon’tknowhow…Ijust…”Ishookmyhead.“I’mjust…human.”
Asthewordsleftmylips,IheardtheechoofhowIhadhurledthematVincent.Iamhuman!
Itwasnevergoingtobeyou,hehadtoldme,somanytimes.Youarenotlikethem.
Ithoughtofthatrefrainwithfreshmeaning,now.
“Yousmellme.You’ve—”Ichokedonthesewords.“You’vetastedme.Youwouldknow,wouldn’tyou?IfIwasn’t?”
“Iwould.”ThewrinkledeepenedbetweenRaihn’sbrows.“Butmaybe…maybehalfhuman.Youdidtaste…different.Ijustthoughtitwasbecause…well…”
Inanyothercircumstance,maybeIwouldhaveenjoyedseeinghimfumbleoverhiswordslikethis.
Hesettledon,“BecauseofhowIfeelaboutyou.”
Oh,forfuck’ssake.
Ifeltdizzy.Ihadnotintendedtosit,butIfoundmyselfleaningagainstthewindowsill.
Halfhuman.
ThatwouldmakemeVincent’sbiologicaldaughter.
No.Therewasnoway.Itjust…itdidn’tmakeanysense.
“Ican’tbe,”Iforcedout.“Hefoundme.He…hejustfoundme.”
Raihnasked,quietly,“Whywashethere,thatnight?”
“Becauseitwasarebellion,andhe—”
“Butwhydidhecometothathouse?”
Myheadhurt.Myhearthurt.“Idon’tknow.Itwasjust…just…”
Luck.
Fate.
Ihadn’trealizedhowmuchIhadleanedonthat.ThatfatehadbroughtmetoVincent’sembrace.Itwasmyblessing,becausethewillofNyaxiahadsavedmethatnight.Andmycurse,becausesuchafragilethreadseparatedmefromsomanymoretragicfutures.
Ihadnotrealizedhowheavythatwordhadweigheduponmypast,andthewayIlookedatit,untilsuddenlyitwasgone.SuddenlyfatewasreplacedwithsecretsandwhispersandquestionsIwouldlikelynevergetanswersto.BecauseVincent,myfather—myfatherinspirit,andinblood—wasdead.
“Whatwasitthathesaidtoyou?”Raihnasked.“Ashe…”
Died.
Itwasthekindofquestiononeaskedwhentheyalreadyknewtheanswer.Alreadyknewwhatitmeant.
Iwasgoingtotellyou,Vincenthadsaid.
Askyourselfwhyhe’safraidofyou,Raihnhadspatatme,beforethefinaltrial.
Inaworldofimmortals,therewasnothingmoredangerousthananheir.
Ifeltsick.
Ididn’tunderstand.Ididn’tunderstandanyofit.IfIwasVincent’sdaughter,andheknewwhoIwas,whywouldhekeepmeatall?
Whywouldn’thekillme?
Raihnsteppedcloseragain,whispering,“Breathe,Oraya.”AndonlythendidIrealizethatIwasshakingsoviolentlyInearlyfelloffthewindowsill.
“Wewillfindtheanswers,”hesaid.“We’lldothewedding,and—”
Wedding.Oh,Mother.
“I’mnotmarryingyou,”Ispat.
“Yes,youare.”
“Fuckyou.Iamnot.”
Amusclefeatheredinhischeek.
“It’stheonlywayIcankeepyoualive.Ifyou’renotmywife,you’remyenemy.AndIcan’tjustifylettingyougo.”
“Whatafuckinghypocriteyouare,”Isnarled.“You,whowassofuckingappalledbyVincent’sbonding.”
Raihnflinched.HeknewIwasright.
Iturnedmyheadenoughtolookoutthewindow.Iknewthisviewsowell.Itrackedtheevolutionofanancientcityfromthiswindoweverysinglenight,everymorning.
Now,itwasakingdomwailingthroughitsdeaththroes.Thenightskywasbrightwithredandwhite—Nightfire.Littlestreaksoflighttrailedthroughthedistantstreets.Bloodbornsoldiers,invadingmyhome.IknewthatifIpressedmyeartotheglass,Iwouldbeabletohearthescreamsofthosebelow.
“Goodthingyoufreedusfromthattyrant,”Ispat.“Everythinglookssomuchmorepeacefulnow,doesn’tit?”
Raihnclosedthegapbetweenusintwostrides.Hishandpressedtotheglassashebowedoverme,onepalmcuppingthesideofmyfaceinatouchthatcouldn’tdecideifitwasacomfortorathreat.
“Thinkaboutthis.Powerisabloodybusiness.YouknowthataswellasIdo.Wehaveteeth,youandI.Nowisthetimetousethem.We’llripaparttheworldsthatsubjugatedbothofus,andfromtheasheswe’llbuildsomethingnew.AndthereisnooneIwouldratherhavebesidemetodothatwiththanyou,Oraya.Noone.”Hisvoiceloweredtoaplea.Hisgazedipped—tomymouth—beforeflickingbacktomyeyes.“AndwhenIleavethisroom,andcomebackwithapriestess,youwillmarryme.YouwilldoitbecauseIcan’tkillyou.Itried.Ican’t.Aworldwithoutyouwouldbeadark,depressingplace.AndI’vealreadyinflictedenoughpainwithoutcommittingthatfuckinginjustice,too.Soletmesaveyou.”
Nowitwasmyturntoknowhewasright—toknowthathemeanteverywordofwhathesaid—andhateit.
Angermadethingseasy.
Lovemadethingscomplicated.
“Isthisyoubeggingmetosavemyself?AndwhatifIrefuse,justlikeshedid?”
Inthatmoment,IthoughtmaybeIwould.MaybeI’ddie,justlikeNessanyn,solelybecausehewantedmetolive.Sheerspite.
“Youwon’t.”Hisnosewasinchesfrommine.Thewordswarmedmymouth.Lowandsmooth.
“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“Becauseyou’resmarterthanher.Youhavemorethanadream.Youhavevision.”
Theadmirationinhisvoicehurt,becauseIknewitwasreal.
Myeyesflickeduptomeethis.Itookinallthosestunningthreadsofcolor.Allthosepiecesofhimthatdidnotfittogether.
Ithoughtforonelongmomentthathemightkissme.Evenworse,IthoughtImightkisshimback.
Instead,hislipsghostedovermyforehead.Barelyatouch.
Thenhestraightened.“I’mgettingthepriestess.Everysecondweputthisoff,you’reindanger.”
“Wait—”
BeforeIcouldprotest,hewasgone.CHAPTERFIFTY-FIVE
Theweddingceremonywasperformedinmychamber.ThepriestesswasoneoftheMinistaer’s—oneofthoseidiotswhospenthalftheirlivesstaringatastonewallinthechurch.Hergazewasloweredasshewhisperedscripturesinancienttongues.
Istoodthereandconsideredrunningaway.Consideredattackingher.ConsideredattackingRaihn.Consideredsmashingthewindowandhurlingmyselfoutofit.
Ididn’t.
Ijumpedwhenthepriestesstookmyhand.Hertouchwascoolandunnaturallysmooth.ShetookRaihn’sintheother,andthenflippedbothover,soourpalmsraisedtotheceiling.
Shewhisperedanincantation,thenbrushedherfingertipovermyskin.
Ihissedacurse,startledbythestabofpain.Ariverofcrimsonopenedovermypalm.
Raihndidnotflinchasshedidthesametohim.
“Thevows,”thepriestesssaidsimply.Asifweweresupposedtoknowwhatthatmeant.
Ihadneverseenawedding.Iwasneverallowedatsuchgatherings.Theyoftenturneddebauchedandunruly,andVincentalwayssaid—
Vincent.
Thecasualthoughtofhisnamestolethebreathfrommylungs,thepainunbearable.
Raihn’stouchwaswarmandrough.Theoppositeofthepriestess’sineveryway—theoppositeofeveryvampire’s.
MaybeheknewIdidn’tknowwhattosay.Heliftedmypalm.Itensedashebroughtittohismouth.Histonguemovedslowlyoverthewound.Ihadn’tbeenexpectingthetendernessofit.Soft,andgentle.Anapology,andapromise.
Heloweredmyhand.Swallowedmyblood.
Iwantedtolookaway.Icouldn’t.
“OrayaoftheNightborn,”hemurmured.“Igiveyoumybody.Igiveyoumyblood.Igiveyoumysoul.Igiveyoumyheart.Fromthisnightuntiltheendofnights.Fromdaybreakuntilourdaysarebroken.Yoursoulismysoul.Yourheartismyheart.Yourpainismypain.Ibindmyselftoyou.”
Iwantedittoallbealie.Butitwasnotalie.
InthismomentIrecognized,withunmistakableclarity,thatRaihnwasinlovewithme.
Heofferedhishandtome.Red-blackliquidpooledinhispalm,seepingintothelinesandscarsofalifewell-lived.MymouthwasdryasIraisedittomylips.IthoughtmaybeI’dthrowituponceithitmystomach.
Instead,thetasteofhimwasthemostexquisitethingIhadeverexperienced.Hisbloodwaswarmandsmoothovermytongue,sweetandmetallicanddeepasthenightitself.
Ittastedlikethesky.Ittastedlikefalling.
Iloweredhishand.Myfingerstrembledaroundhisskin.
“RaihnAshraj.”
Mother,myvoicedidnotsoundlikeitbelongedtome.
“Igiveyoumybody.Igiveyoumyblood.Igiveyou—Igiveyoumysoul.Igiveyou…”
Myheart.
Icouldn’tmakemyselfsaythewords.
Myheart.
Myweak,humanheart.Scarredandbrokenandbleeding.TheonethingIhadalwaysbeentaughttoprotectaboveall.Andyet,whateverthingstruggledalongwithinmyribcagenow,farbeneaththeMarkthatmydeadfatherleftonme,wasanythingbutprotected.Ithadbeentornapartandrippedopen.
HowhadIeverthoughtVincenthadgivenmeavampireheart?Thiswashuman.
“My…”
Icouldn’tsayit.
“Youmustcompletethevow,mylady,”thepriestesssaid.
Iblinkedbacktearsandshookmyhead.“No.”
“Butmylady—”
“It’sfine,”Raihnbarked.
“But—”
“Isaidit’sfine.Shedoesn’thaveto.”
Iallowedmyselftolookupathim.
Ihatedthathelookedatmelikehecared.Histhumbsweptoverthebackofmyhand.Icouldhearhisvoiceinthatgesture:You’resafe.
ButIwasnotsafe.EvenifIfeltit,justforamoment.EspeciallybecauseIfeltit.
Thepriestessledmethroughtherestofmyvows.Whenitwasdone,IwasmarriedtotheKingoftheNightborn.Ihadlostmyautonomy,myname,myblood.Ihadlostmycountry.
ButatleastIhadkeptmyheart.
Raihnremainedonlybrieflyafterthepriestessleft.IwenttothewindowandwatchedthecarnageinSivrinajbeyond.Iwouldn’tlookathim.Ifelttoomuch,andIfelthisstarestrongestofall.
“Ifyou’rewaitingformetoinviteyoutoourweddingbed,”Isaid,afterlongsecondspassed,“itisn’tgoingtohappen.”
Myvoicewasn’tasruthlessasIwantedittobe.Theword“wedding”remindedmeofhowhismouthfeltagainstmypalm.Theword“bed”remindedmeofhowitfeltagainstmyflesh.Bothwereequallyconfusing.
Hesaidnothing.Iwondered,inthesilence,ifhefeltthosethings,too.
Eventually,Ipeeredovermyshoulder.Hestoodatthecenteroftheroom,handsathissides,lookingasifhehadtoomanythingstosayandnotenoughwordsforthem.
Myhusband.
Mother,whathadIjustdone?
Hislipsparted.Ididn’twanttohearanyofit.Icouldn’t.
“I’dliketobealone,”Isaid,beforehecouldspeak.
Hismouthclosed.Hestaredatmeforwhatfeltlikeanendlessmoment—feltlikeitbecauseIstruggledtokeepmyselftogetherwitheveryagonizingsecond,andIrefusedtoallowhimtoseemebreak.
Finally,heloweredhischin.Iturnedmybacktohim,satonthebed,andlistenedtohisfootstepsleave.Helockedthedoorbehindhim.
***
Therapontheglasscameneardawn.Ihadbeenlyingonthebed,staringattheceiling,tryingveryhardtofeelnothing.
IthoughtIwashallucinatingwhenIrosetoseethefigureinthewindow.
Idrewcloser,andthefacethatpeeredbackatme—perfect,sculpted,dangerous—wasnotareflection.
Jesmineknockedontheglassagain,moreurgently.IneverthoughtIwouldbesogratefultoseeher.
Itriedtoopenthewindow.Itwaslocked,ofcourse,butwhenItwistedthehandle,itbrokeapartinmyhands,asnappedboltshootinghalfwayacrosstheroom.WasIstrongernowthanIwasbefore?Maybeitwasmynewly-acknowledgedvampireblood.Ormaybeitwasjustallthatrepressedrage.
Ithrewthewindowopen.Jesmineclungtothesideofthecastle.Herashyhairwasbraided,afewstrandsofitwhippingaboutherface.Shewasbloodyandbruised,acutslicinghercheek.Shelookedasifshehadn’tsleptindays.
Stillstunning,ofcourse.
“Comein,”Isaid,anditwasonlyafterthewordswereoutofmymouththatIrealizedmaybeIdidn’tnecessarilywantherto.Itwasimpossibletotellwhowasanenemyandwhowasanally.
Hergazeflickedoverthewindowframe.
“There’sabarrierhere,”shesaid.“Idon’tfeellikegettingshreddedtoday.”
LiketheonesintheMoonPalace.Shewasright—ifIsquinted,Icouldseethefaintblue-whitesheenacrossthewindow.Itwould’vebeentooeasy.
“Ican’tstay,”shesaid.“ButIcouldn’tleavewithoutseeingyoufirst.”Shelookedmeupanddown.“Youlooklikeshit.”
Ifeltlikeshit.“Thanks.”
“Howareyou?Areyoualright?”
Iblinked.Itwasstrange.Sheaskedthequestionlikeitreallymatteredtoher.
No.No,Iwasnotalright.
Isaid,“Yes.”
Hereyessoftened.“He’sgone.”
Iswallowed.Nodded.
Jesminebowedherhead.Genuinesorrowflittedoverthatflawlessface.
“MaytheMotherguidehimhome.”
TheMotherwastheonewhoputusallinthisshitsituation.Iwasn’tsureifIwasreadytoaskherforanythingatall.
“Idon’thavetimeformuch,soexcusemybluntness,”Jesminewenton.“They’rewaitingforme,beyondthewalls.”
“They?”
“Themilitary.”Shesaidthisasiftosay,Whoelse?
And…whoelse,indeed?ShewastheHeadofWar.Adamnedgoodone.
“Whoeverisleft,anyway.TheBloodbornbastardsare…”Shehissedthroughherteeth.“Efficientkillers.Weweren’texpectingthem.”
“Howmany?”
I’dmadeamistake,Irealized.Ihadbeenthinkinglikeagrievingdaughter.Likeaprisoner.Ihadnotbeenthinkinglikealeader.
Ididn’tevenknowwhatwashappeningbeyondthesewalls.
“Idon’tknowyet,”shesaid.“Ineedtoassess.Butit’s…itisnotgood,Highness.”
Highness.
Iphysicallyjoltedatthatword.Jesminesawit.Hereyesnarrowed.
“Letmemakeonethingveryclear.IrespectedVincentasmykingandmyleader.Buthedoesnotholdmyloyalty.TheHiajclanholdsmyloyalty.UntilthedayIdie.”Shejabbedafingeratme—atmychest.“Idon’tknowhowyougotthat.I’massurprisedasanyotherthatyouhaveit.Butit’snotmyplacetoquestionthat.YouaretheHiajHeir.Thatmakesyoumyqueen.Andthatmeansmyloyaltyisyours.”
MaybeIhadmisjudgedJesmine.Ihadnevertrustedherbefore.Iwasn’tsurewhatitsaidaboutmethatItrustedherrightnow.
Ididn’tknowwhattosay.Thankingherdidn’tseemappropriate.
SoIwasgratefulwhenshesurveyedmeagainandmovedontoanothertopic.“Didhedoit?Themarriage?”
“Yes.”
Shehissed.“OurqueenmarriedtoaTurnedRishanslave.Vincentwouldhave—”Sheshookherhead.
“Betterthisthandead,”Isaid.
Sheshrugged,asifthiswasasmallconsolation.
“Itoldyouhewastrouble.Prettytrouble.Buttrouble.”
Fairenough,Ithought,begrudgingly.
“Whatisyourplan?”Iasked.
“Whatareyourorders?”
Iwasnotatallpreparedtogiveorders.
ItriedtospeakasVincentwouldhave.“Iwouldliketohearyourrecommendation.”
“Wearelosingmen,andrapidly.We’reoutnumbered.Weneedtoregroup.”Shepeeredintotheroom.“Ifyouwish,highness,Icansendwarriorshereto—”
“No.”
ThelastthingIneededwasforHiajsoldierstogetcaughttryingtorescueme.Tortured.Killed.Whoknewwhatelse.
Ihadtothinklikealeader.
“Idon’twantanymorebloodshedthantherealreadyhasbeen,”Isaid.“Notuntilweknowwhatwe’redealingwith.Retreat.”
Jesmine’slipcurled.“Sowelethimtakeit.LethimtaketheHouseofNight.”
Wecouldbuildsomethingbetter,Raihnhadwhisperedtome.
Butthisdidnotseembetter.
“AndlettheBloodborn—”
“Iknow,”Icutin.“Iknow.”
ItwasonethingtohandthiscountrytoRaihn.
AnothertohandittoSeptimus.
Thiscountryhatedme.Ihatedit,insomeways.Butitwasstillmyhome.
“Ineedtime,”Isaid.“Timetolearn.Timetogatherinformation.Keepyourselfsafeuntilthen.”
“Andyou?”
“Hewon’thurtme.”
Jesminegavemeacoldstare.“Thatmarriageistoprotecthim.Notyou.Yourdoorsarelockedfromtheoutside.Yourwindowsarecursed.”
“Hewon’thurtme,”Isaidagain,becauseIdidn’tknowhowtoexplaintoherhowcertainIwasofthis.
“Thisisbiggerthanhim,”shesaid.“IfImayspeakfrankly,highness—youarenotaprisoner.Youareaqueen.Ihavebrokentheunbreakablebefore.”
Shepulledopenhershirt—revealingherscar.“Iwasboundtoamanwhosoughttocontrolmetoo,once.Inearlygavemylifetobreakthatbond.ButI’mfreenow.Icouldfreeyou,too.”
Yes.IhadunderestimatedJesmine.
AndmaybethatwaswhyIwasmorehonestwithhernowthanIeverintendedtobe.
“Idon’tintendtoleadanyoneintoawarwecan’twin.Idon’tintendtofightforthesakeoffighting.AndmaybeIhaveaMarkonmyskin,butIdon’tknowwhatthatmeans.Theworldknowsmeashuman.TheHiajknowmeashuman.”
Iknewmyselfashuman.
“IfyouwanttofightforthisHouse,weareready,”shesaid.“Iwon’tpretenditwillbeeasy.Iwon’tpretendthatsome—maybemany—won’twanttoacceptyourrule.”Herlipcurled.“ButRaihnAshraj’speopledon’twanttofollowhim,either.Hewasaslavetotheirking.Turned.Abandonedhisclanforcenturies.Doyouthinkhispeopledon’trememberthosethings?They’llbereluctanttogoontheirkneesforhimwhentheyfeelitshouldbetheotherwayaround.”
Despiteeverything,myheartachedtoknowthattheythoughtofRaihnthatway.
“Theyarewaitingtousurphim,too,”shewenton.“Andthat’sonlyiftheHouseofBlooddoesn’tslideaknifeintohisbackfirst,andthenweareallfuckedbeforehisownpeopleevenhavethechancetoturnonhim.”
Abangrangoutinthedistance,apuffofsmokerollingfromthedistanteasternwalls.Jesmine’sfacesnappedtothesound.
“Go,”Isaid.“I’llbefinefornow.”
“Youcanfindmewhenyouneedme,”shesaidurgently.“Don’trelyonhimtoprotectyou,Highness.Hehashisownthreatsandweaknesses.Youhaveteeth,too.Yoursaresharperthanhis.Justtelluswhentobite,andwefightforyou,andyoualone.”
Anotherbang.Anotherflashoflightinthedistance.
AndJesminegavemenotimetotellheranythingelsebeforeshedisappearedintothenight,scalingthecastlewallswiththeeaseofsomeonewhohadcenturiesofexperienceslippingthroughthelockedwindowsofpowerfulmen.CHAPTERFIFTY-SIX
Iwasescortedtothethroneroomatnightfallthenextday.Ilistenedtothedoorclickfourtimesbeforeitswungopen.Raihnstoodthere,Cairisathisside.
“Fourlocks?”Isaidaswewalkedthroughthehalls.Cairistrailedfarbehind.IwonderedifIshouldexpecthimtoalwaysbelingeringnearus,now.“Howflattering.”
“Iknowbetterthantounderestimateyou.”
“Wherearewegoing?”
Hegavemeanoddlook,likethiswasanobviousquestion.“Towork,ofcourse.”
“Why?Aren’tIyourprisoner?”
Anotherstrangelook—thisoneIcouldn’tquitedecipher.
“Youaren’tmyprisoner,”hesaid.“You’remyqueen.”
Ihadgrownupinthispalace.Ikneweverycrevice.Ihadslippedthrougheachsecrethallwayinthebrighthoursofday,whennoonecoulddisturbme.Buteverythingwasdifferentnow.Newfacesinthehall.Paintingstornfromthewalls.Thefaceofmyfathershreddedanddisfigured,justasithadbeeninlife.
Raihnledmetothethroneroom.Thereweresomanypeoplehere.AllRishan.Allofthemlookedatmewithutterdisgust.Iknewwhatitwastowalkintoaroomandknowthateveryonetherewantedtokillme.Thatiswhatitwastobepreyinaworldofpredators.
Thiswasdifferent.
ThesepeoplewantedtokillmenotbecauseIwasweak,butbecauseIwaspowerful.
RaihnexcusedhimselftogospeaktoKetura,whoshotmeawaryglarewhenhisbackwasturned.Iwalkedthroughthisfamiliar-unfamiliarroom.IcrossedituntilIreachedthedoubledoorsthatoverlookedtheballroom.
Allthepaintings—paintingsofHiajlegendandroyalty—hadbeendestroyed,smashedtopiecesoverthemarblefloor.
Onlyonestillremained,thatsmallpaintingIhadalwayssoadmired:theRishanman,falling,reachingforasaviorthatwouldnotreachback.
“Iamsogladwehavetheopportunitytoworktogetheronceagain.”
Thehairsroseonthebackofmyneck.Thesmelloftobaccosmokewaftedoverme.IturnedtoseeSeptimusleaningontheoppositedoorframe.
Ididn’tfeellikeplayingtoday.
“Worktogether,”Isaid.“Whatapolitewayoftalkingaboutslaughteringakingdom.”
“Slaughter?That’sharsh.”
“It’swhatyouwant,isn’tit?Lookslikeit,fromwhatI’veseen.”
Heexhaledapuffofsmoke.“Thenyou’renotlookingatmuchofanything,areyou?Perhapsthesameimpulsesthatdrivemypeoplearetheonesthatdriveyoutomurderinyourhumanslums.Afterall,yourpeopleweren’ttheonlyonesusedaspawnsinourgoddess’slittlegames.”
Ididn’tknowwhattosaytothat,becausesomethingaboutthepointedstare,fullofangerhemostlymanagedtohide,remindedmeofthatfirsttrial—ofthelookofhorrorontheBloodborncontestant’sfaceasherealizedthathewasfightingmonstersthathadoncebeenhispeople.BoththehumansandtheBloodbornhadbeenusedanddiscarded.
“Youdidn’thesitatetouseAngelikaasapawn,either.”
“Angelikawasagoodfriendofmine,andthesacrificeshemadeforherkingdomwillliveonfarlongerthanshehas.”
Iaskedbluntly,“Howdidyouknowthiswouldwork?”
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.”
“Raihnmadeyourdeal”—cavedtoyourblackmail—“tosaveme.Yetforhimtoholduphisend,hehadtowintheKejari.Whywouldyouthinkhewouldkillmeafterhehadsavedme?”
Septimussmirked.Exhaledsmoke.“Ididn’t.He’sclearlyaromantic.”
Ikeptmyfaceblank,butdidnotunderstandthisanswer.
Hechuckledandstraightened.“ItoldyouIdon’tmakebetsthatIcanlose.AndeverybetI’vemadeonyouhasbeenawinningone,dove.”
Heofferedmetheboxofcigarillos.Ishookmyhead.
“Ihopeyoucanfinditinyourhearttocallmeafriend,”hesaid,asheslippedtheboxintohispocket.“Youmayfindwehavemoreincommonthanyouthink.We’retheonlyonesherewhoknowwhatit’sliketofightagainsttime.Countsforalotinthisworld,doesn’tit?”
Hesaunteredawaywithoutanotherword,justintimeforRaihntoreturntomyside.HeeyedSeptimus’sdepartingformwarily.
“Whatwasthatabout?”
“Nothing.”
Raihnlookedunconvinced.Hetookmyarm.Istiffenedandpulledaway,butfollowedhimashewalked.
“Whatnow?”Isaid.
Heledmeintotheballroom.Toourright,floor-to-ceilingwindowsdisplayedatableauofSivrinaj,domesandspiresgleamingbeneaththestar-dustedsky.Thenightwasstillhazywithsmokeandwhitewithfire,brightasinvertedsunshinespillingacrosstheballroom’smarblefloors.
“Goodquestion”Raihnsaid.“Guesswehavetobuildakingdom.”
Onthesurface,hisvoiceheldtheliltofaflippantjoke.Itdidlittletomasktheblatantfearbeneathit.
Iwasafraid,too.
Afraidoftheenemiesbeyondthesewalls,andwithinthem.TheenemiesthatsurroundedRaihn,andtheonesthatsurroundedme.Thealliesreadytobetrayusboth.
Afraidofthefireconsumingthekingdomthatraisedme,andforthecountlessinnocenthumanswhowouldbecaughtwithinit.
Afraidofthedangerofthefuture,andthesecretsofthepast.
Raihntookmyhand.
Andthistime,Ilethim.
Oureyesmetatthesamemoment,unitedinourmutualterror—unitedinallthewayswewerethesame,evenifweweren’treadytoadmitit.Foronemoment,itwasalllaidbare.
Myfriend.Myenemy.Mylover.Mycaptor.
Kingandslave.Humanandvampire.
Andperhapstheonlyotherpersonwhohadeverreallyunderstoodwhatitwasliketohaveaheartthatbledbothredandblack.
Ihatedhim.AndIlovedhim.
AndIcouldn’teventrytodenyhowbeautifulhewas,withhislife-markedfacedousedintheflickeringlightofourworldfallingtoash.
“Andwhataboutyou?”hemurmured.Histhumbstrokedmycheek,tracedthelineofmyjaw.“Areyougoingtokillme,Oraya?”
Hesaiditjustashehadalifetimeago,asdawnencroachedonanalleywayinthehumanslums.Andjustlikethatnight,Ididn’tpullawayfromhistouch.
Instead,Ipressedmypalmflattohischest.Behindhim,mykingdomburned.
Ithought,Maybe
“Nottonight,”Isaid.
ENDofBOOKI
OrayaandRaihn’sstorywillcontinueinTheAshesandtheStar-CursedKing,comingsoon.AUTHOR’SNOTE
ThankyousomuchforreadingTheSerpentandtheWingsofNight!IhopeyoulovedreadingitasmuchasIlovedwritingit.Wehavefivemorebooksinthisworld,andI’mreallyexcitedtoexploreallofitsdarkandbloodycornerswithyou!OrayaisoneofmyfavoritecharactersI’veeverwritten—boththetoughestandthemostdeeplysensitive.IhopeyoufellinlovewithherasIdid,andthatyouenjoythenextphaseofher—andRaihn’s—story.
Ifyouenjoyedthisbook,Iwouldtrulyappreciateifyou’dconsidergivingareviewonAmazonorGoodReads.Ican’toverstatehowimportantreviewsaretoauthors!
Andifyou’dliketobethefirsttoknowaboutnewreleases,newart,newswag,andallkindsofotherfunstuff,considersigningupformynewsletteratcarissabroadbentbooks.com,hangingoutinmyFacebookgroup(CarissaBroadbent’sLostHearts),orjoiningmyDiscordserver(inviteatlinktr.ee/carissanasyra!).
Iwouldlovetokeepintouch!ALSOBYCARISSABROADBENT
IfyoulikedTheSerpentandtheWingsofNight,checkoutTheWarofLostHeartstrilogy,anepicromantasytrilogyfullofromance,revenge,andredemption—andbestofall,it’scompleteandreadytobinge.
Book1:DaughterofNoWorlds
Book2:ChildrenofFallenGods
Book3:MotherofDeathandDawn
AvailableonAmazonandfreetoreadinKindleUnlimited.GLOSSARYOFTERMS
Acaeja-Thegoddessofspellcasting,mystery,andlostthings.MemberoftheWhitePantheon.
Alarus-ThegodofdeathandhusbandofNyaxia.ExiledbytheWhitePanethonaspunishmentforhisforbiddenrelationshipwithNyaxia.Consideredtobedeceased.
Asteris-AformofmagicalenergywieldedbyNightbornvampires,derivedfromthestars.Rareanddifficulttouse,requiringsignificantskillandenergy.
Atroxus-ThegodofthesunandleaderoftheWhitePantheon.
Bloodborn-VampiresoftheHouseofBlood.
Born-Atermusedtodescribevampireswhoarebornviabiologicalprocreation.Thisisthemostcommonwaythatvampiresarecreated.
Celeba–AcontinentinthehumanlandstotheeastofObitraes.
CoriatisBond–Arareandpowerfulbondthatcanbeforgedonlybyagod,inwhichtwopeopleshareallaspectsoftheirpower,linkingtheirlivesandsouls.NyaxiaistheonlygodknowntograntCoriatisbonds,thoughanygodiscapableofdoingso.Thosewhoareboundarereferredtoaseachother’sCoriatae.Coriataeshareallaspectsofeachother’spower,typicallymakingbothstronger.Coriataecannotactagainsteachotherandcannotlivewithouteachother.
Dhaivinth-Apoisonthattemporarilyparalyzes.
Dhera-Anationinthehumanlands.Valeiscurrentlylivingthere.
Extryn-TheprisonofthegodsoftheWhitePantheon.
Obitraes-ThelandofNyaxia,consistingofthreekingdoms:TheHouseofNight,TheHouseofShadow,andtheHouseofBlood.
HeirMark-ApermanentmarkthatappearsontheHeiroftheHiajandRishanclanswhenthepreviousHeirdies,markingtheirpositionandpower.
Hiaj-OneofthetwoclansofNightbornvampires.Theyhavefeatherlesswingsthatresemblethoseofbats.
TheHouseofBlood–OneofthethreevampirekingdomsofObitraes.Twothousandyearsago,whenNyaxiacreatedvampires,theHouseofBloodwasherfavoriteHouse.Shethoughtlongandhardaboutwhichgifttogivethem,whiletheBloodbornwatchedtheirbrotherstothewestandnorthflaunttheirpowers.Eventually,theBloodbornturnedonNyaxia,certainthatshehadabandonedthem.Inpunishment,Nyaxiacursedthem.TheHouseofBloodisnowlookeddownuponbytheothertwohouses.PeoplefromtheHouseofBloodarecalledBloodborn
TheHouseofNight-OneofthethreevampirekingdomsofObitraes.Knownfortheirskillinbattleandfortheirviciousnatures,andwieldersofmagicderivedfromthenightsky.TherearetwoclansofNightbornvampires,HiajandRishan,whohavefoughtforthousandsofyearsoverrule.ThoseoftheHouseofNightarecalledNightborn
TheHouseofShadow-OneofthethreevampirekingdomsofObitraes.Knownfortheircommitmenttoknowledge;wieldersofmindmagic,shadowmagic,andnecromancy.ThoseoftheHouseofShadowarecalledShadowborn
Ix-Goddessofsex,fertility,childbirth,andprocreation.MemberoftheWhitePantheon.
Kajmar-Godofart,seduction,beauty,anddeceit.MemberoftheWhitePantheon.
TheKejari–Alegendary,once-per-centurytournamenttothedeathheldinNyaxia’shonor.ThewinnerreceivesagiftfromNyaxiaherself.TheKejariisopentoallinObitraes,butishostedbytheHouseofNight,astheNightbornholdthegreatestdomainovertheartofbattleoutthethreevampirekingdoms.
LituroRiver–AriverthatrunsthroughthecenterofSivrinaj.
MoonPalace–ApalaceinSivrinaj,thecapitaloftheHouseofNight,specificallytheretohousecontestantsoftheonce-in-a-centuryKejaritournamentheldinNyaxia’shonor.SaidtobeenchantedandtoexertthewillofNyaxiaherself.
NeculaiVasarus-TheformerRishankingoftheHouseofNight.UsurpedandkilledbyVincent200yearspriortotheeventsofthisbook.
Nightborn-VampiresoftheHouseofNight.
Nightfire-LikeAsteris,anotherformofstar-derivedmagicwieldedbythevampiresoftheHouseofNight.WhileAsterisisdarkandcold,Nightfireisbrightandhot.NightfireiscommonlyusedintheHouseofNightbutverydifficulttowieldmasterfully.
Nyaxia-Exiledgoddess,motherofvampires,andwidowofthegodofdeath.Nyaxialordsoverthedomainofnight,shadow,andblood,andaswellastheinheriteddomainofdeathfromherdeceasedhusband.Formerlyalessergoddess,shefellinlovewithAlarusandmarriedhimdespitetheforbiddennatureoftheirrelationship.WhenAlaruswasmurderedbytheWhitePantheonaspunishmentforhismarriagetoher,NyaxiabrokefreefromtheWhitePantheoninafitofrage,andofferedhersupportersthegiftofimmortalityintheformofvampirism—foundingObitraesandthevampirekingdoms.(Alsoreferredtoas:theMother;theGoddess;MotheroftheRavenousDark;MotherofNight,Shadow,andBlood)
Pachnai-AhumannationtotheeastofObitraes.
Rishan-OneofthetwoclansofNightbornvampires.Havefeatheredwings.UsurpedbytheHiaj200yearsago.
Salinae-AmajorcityintheHouseofNight.LocatedinRishanterritory.WhentheRishanwereinpower,Salinaewasathrivinghub,functioningasasecondcapital.Orayaspentthefirstyearsofherlife,beforeVincentfoundher,inSalinae.
Shadowborn-VampiresoftheHouseofShadow.
Sivrinaj-ThecapitaloftheHouseofNight.HometotheNightborncastle,theMoonPalace,andhosttotheKejarionceevery100years.
Turning-Aprocesstomakeahumanintoavampire,requiringavampiretodrinkfromahumanandoffertheirbloodtothehumaninreturn.VampireswhounderwentthisprocessarereferredtoasTurned
WhitePantheon–Thetwelvegodsofthecorecannon,includingAlarus,whoispresumeddeceased.TheWhitePantheonisworshippedbyallhumans,withcertainregionspotentiallyhavingfavortowardsspecificgodswithinthePantheon.NyaxiaisnotamemberoftheWhitePantheonandisactivelyhostiletothem.TheWhitePantheonimprisonedandlaterexecutedAlarus,theGodofDeath,aspunishmentforhisunlawfulmarriagewithNyaxia,thenalessergoddess.
Zarux-Thegodofthesea,rain,weather,storms,andwater.MemberoftheWhitePantheon.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
EverysingletimeIhavetowriteoneofthese,I’mamazedbyhowsurrealitstillfeels.Ihavesomanypeopletothankforhelpingmedreamthisnewdarkbloodyworldintoexistence.Chiefamongthem:
Nathan(firstasalways),forbeingmybestfriend,mygreatestlove,mybiggestsupporter,mybrainstormingbuddy,myartdirector,myencyclopedia,andsomuchmore.Iwouldnotbeabletodoanyofthiswithoutyou.Iloveyou!
Ariella,Deanna,Elizabeth,andRachel,forbeingamazingearlyreadersandprovidingsuchhelpfulfeedback.Youarethebest!
KDRitchieatStorywrappersDesign,forsuchabeautifulcover.Loveworkingwithyou!
Noah,forbeing,asalways,anamazingstorysherpa.Thankyouforlendingyoureyestothismanuscriptmanytimesoverandforyourinvaluableeditingpass.
Anthony,forfabulousproofreadingandforeternallycorrectingmycommausage.IsweartogodoneofthesedaysI’mgoingtoactuallynailit.
Rachel,forbeingthemosteagle-eyedproofreaderever!Thanksforkillingallmytyposandcorrectingallmycontinuityerrors!
Clare,thankyousomuchforlisteningtomewhinealldayeverydayandputtingupwiththenotoriousCarissa-Broadbent-brain-to-mouthpipeline.YouareastarandIadoreyou.
AndtomySwords&Corsetscrew,Jenn,Krystle,andAngela,youguysarethefuckingbest.Iloveyouallandcouldnotpossiblyaskforabetter,moretalented,andmoreawesomewriterfriendcircle.
Andfinally,thankyoutoyou—forcomingonthisadventurewithme!
IfyouhavebeenareadersincetheWarofLostHeartstrilogy,thankyouforfollowingmetothisnewworld.Andifyou’renewtome,thankyousomuchfortakingachanceonthisbook.
Yoursupport,readership,fanart,reviews,messages,emails….allofithasbeeninstrumentaltomycareer,andItruly,trulycannotthankyouenough.Noneofthiswouldbehappeningwithoutyou,andIneverforgetitforasinglesecond.
I’mexcitedtojoinyouforthenextone!ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
CarissaBroadbenthasbeenconcerningteachersandparentswithmercilesslygrimtalessinceshewasroughlynineyearsold.Sincethen,herstorieshavegotten(slightly)lessdepressingand(hopefullyalot?)morereadable.Today,shewritesfantasynovelswithaheapingdoseofbadassladiesandabigpinchofromance.Sheliveswithherhusband,oneverywellbehavedrabbit,oneverypoorlybehavedrabbit,andoneperpetuallyskepticalcatinRhodeIsland.
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