“Back to the way it was?” Nathan shook his head. If he was honest with himself, yes, a part of him did miss the hive.
A corner of Idalia’s mouth twitched up in triumph. “Why don’t you tell me where you are, and I’ll—” Her brows suddenly drew together, and her gaze locked on Violet.
Nathan’s insides clenched. Idalia’s wispy blue face looked as if she’d just discovered a deep, dark secret. Her eyes narrowed. “Who is she?” Steel had replaced all evidence of the previous sweetness in her tone.
“None of your concern.”
Idalia turned her severe expression on Nathan.
She’d figured it out. Either Idalia had recognized Violet’s features, or catching Nathan shielding a young girl was enough for her to piece together the puzzle. The latter was more likely. Idalia’s manipulative intellect was second to none.
“If that is who I’m guessing it is, then I demand you kill her and bring her to me.” She enunciated every word with authoritative power.
“No,” said Nathan.
“I command you to—”
“No,” repeated Nathan with his own edge of authority. “I am no longer your plaything to command.”
Idalia’s eyes blazed. “What? You would allow the spawn of one of those rebel slaves to remain alive—those slaves who persist in threatening and terrorizing our existence?”
“And what about us? What about what we’ve done?” Nathan gestured to Violet. “How many more Erathi have we terrorized? We have kidnapped thousands of innocent Erathi girls and forced them into slavery. We shouldn’t—”
Idalia threw her head back in a condescending laugh. “You speak as if it’s something I choose to do. Tell me, my sweet, what do you propose as an alternative? Do you want our race to die out? Hmm? In our hive alone, I am the last female to have been born in almost fifty years. We need these female slaves to breed—”
Nathan growled. “Do you seriously think I still believe that? Have you forgotten who you’re talking to, or is there someone in your chamber with you that you need to keep spinning these lies?”
A few moments passed in which the queen’s posture and expression turned statuesque.
“Kill the girl,” she said. “Remove the glands and bring her to me, and I will restore your honor. By my side.”
His chest heaved as the weight of her last three words barreled into him. He had disgraced his family and his people. He had disgraced her. There was no way he could ever return. How could she offer such a thing? Allow him to return, not just alive but—
“By my side.”
Nathan almost crumpled to his knees. He had lived his entire life to hear her say those words.
Instead, he shrugged on his shirt, cringing a little when the movement tugged at his injury, and looked up at her. Her features were serene, as if she had just woken from a peaceful sleep. He knew that expression, had seen it countless times when she was scheming for a coveted prize. Or announcing an execution.
“I would rather die,” he spat.
Her expression sharpened; the hard edge in her eyes promised murder.
Nathan’s ingrained logic screamed at him to apologize, yet something gave him the confidence to continue. Maybe it was his festering hate and resentment, or maybe it was the knowledge that a blue wisp couldn’t punish him for the blatant disrespect. “To answer your question, no, I don’t want our race to die out.” He stabbed a finger at her. “I only want you to die. I wish for nothing more than your severed head to be mounted on my wall.”
All expression fled Idalia’s beautiful face, and for a few excruciating heartbeats, the slight breeze in the trees and the Veniri’s dying gurgle were the only sounds. If luck was on Nathan’s side, death would finally take the Veniri and end all communication with Idalia.
“Kill that girl.” Her face twisted with fury. “If you don’t do as I demand, I will double your death price and end your pitiful existence.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’d have to find me first.” He did up his last button and rolled his sleeves up above his elbows.
“Turn your back on me and I will not only hunt you down but destroy every last thing on this god-awful earth that you hold dear.”
Nathan’s heart hammered in his chest. He sneered. “There’s nothing left for you to destroy.”
The phantasm drifted closer until it was a mere inch from his face. “You are mine, Nathan. I will break you.” The vehemence in her promise was tangible and sticky.
For several moments, Nathan stared into Idalia’s eyes. Then when he couldn’t take it any longer, he walked through the blue mist and, with a swipe of his elbow blade, cleaved off the dying Veniri’s head.
The queen’s furious shriek was instantly silenced as her apparition effervesced into nothing.
19
Blood, Breath, And . . . Bones?
Violet adjusted her hold on her suitcase as Thane unlocked the door and held it open for her.
“Thanks so much for doing this,” she said, stepping into his apartment.
“It’s no problem.”
She placed her suitcase on the floor next to the three-seater sofa. The lounge and dining room were adjoined, small but cozy. A kitchen lined the apartment wall to the right, and an island with a sink divided the room. At the end of the kitchen and dining area were floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a small balcony.
Thane picked up her suitcase. “Your bed’s through here.”
She followed him into a room with a double bed, an en suite bathroom, and a small walk-in closet. A desk at the end of the room overlooked the balcony view through more floor-to-ceiling windows.
Thane set her suitcase down on the bed. “It’s not much,” he said with a slight wince.
“This is great. I’m just sorry for imposing.”
“No, not at all.” Thane waved one hand. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I think it’s great your college sent you guys home to recover.” He shook his head. “Poor Autumn.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine being her right now. At least she has Gus with her.” Violet grimaced. “And Bessie. I can’t believe that she’s . . . she . . .” There was no good way to end that sentence. Hastily wiping away her welling tears, she unhitched her camera from around her neck and placed it on the bed before pulling out her phone to check for messages.
We’re about to get on the plane. Autumn’s still a mess. She’ll be better when she sees her mom.
Did Nathan get back to you yet?
“Anything?” asked Thane.
“Just Gus checking in. Still nothing from Nathan.” She rubbed the heel of her palm on her forehead. “Look, I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here, but maybe I should just drive back to town and let myself in at Nathan’s place. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Thane’s nose crinkled. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way by yourself right now. It’ll be dark soon, and you’ve had a rough day with the cops and meetings with the dean and all. How about you take it easy? Rest up. Get this crappy day over with and start fresh tomorrow.”
After a short pause, Violet nodded. “Okay, sounds great.”
“Great.” He gave her a reassuring smile and gestured around the one-bedroom apartment. “There are spare towels in that cupboard and blankets if you get cold. The TV remote’s over there, and help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, but you know, I’m more than happy to sleep on the sofa. I don’t want to disrupt your life. I know you work from home, so I promise to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”
Thane held up both hands and gave a sharp shake of his head. “If there’s anything my mother taught me, it’s how to treat a lady right. The bed is all yours. I insist.”
Violet opened her mouth to object, but instead, she relented. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. How about I put the kettle on and order us some dinner?” He glided into the
kitchen and rummaged through some cabinets.
Violet followed him out of the bedroom, weaved through the living area, and stepped out the glass door. The balcony overlooked the apartment complex and the city beyond. The late afternoon sun dipped close to the skyline, and a subtle orange had begun to encroach on the blue sky.
She adjusted her stance against the balustrade; the switchblade in her jeans pocket dug into her thigh. Reflexively, she laid her hand on it, suddenly hit by a flood of anxiety and doubts. She did a mental check of her surroundings. Only one way in and one way out. Unless . . . She looked over the edge of the balcony and judged the distance to the ground below.
She blanched. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t in any danger. She was with Thane.
But still . . .
She shot a quick glance at him. A few weeks ago she would have assessed Thane’s apartment the moment she walked in, checking for exits and orchestrating a potential plan for escape. But lately she’d been letting her guard down, especially when it came to Thane.
A few interactions at the coffee shop and one date didn’t mean she knew the guy all that well.
Stop it. I have nothing to worry about. Honestly, she was grateful Thane had offered her a place to stay. He didn’t know her all that well either and didn’t have to open up his home to her.
And even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go back to her dorm room. The fact that her bed—
Violet shuddered, not wanting to continue that train of thought.
She sighed. What she needed was to focus on something else for a little while. Returning to the bedroom, she retrieved her camera from her small pile of belongings and took it back out to the balcony. Twilight was starting to work its magic as a few stars twinkled into existence.
“I see you’re taking advantage of my view,” said Thane, stepping out to join her.
“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She peered through the viewfinder of her camera and took a few shots. His shoulder grazed hers when he leaned on the balustrade.
Violet’s cheeks flushed.
They stood for a moment in silence, taking in the view of the skyscrapers with their backdrop of indigo, violet, pink, and burning reds, the final remnants of the setting sun.
The familiar scent of Thane’s earthy aftershave—sandalwood, cedar, and peppermint—drifted in the air. Violet bit her lip. Her heart pounded, and memories of working together on the photography assignment raced through her mind.
“The place is a matchbox, but you have to admit the view is spectacular,” said Thane, cutting into her thoughts. He leaned against her and pointed. “See that bright star over there?”
Violet followed the direction of his finger.
“It’s not actually a star,” he continued. “That’s Venus.”
“Really?” said Violet.
“And that one there”—he pointed to another star—“that’s Mars. And that one over there is Jupiter. Aaaaand . . .” He scanned up and around. “Hmm, it doesn’t look like Saturn is visible tonight.”
“Are you an astronomy nerd or something? Am I going to find a telescope somewhere around here?”
Thane chuckled. “Sadly, no telescope. It’s just something my mom taught me when I was a kid. Looking at the night sky was one of our things.”
“Your mom sounds amazing. I’d like to meet her one day.”
“She . . . um . . .” Thane dropped his gaze; his knuckles on the balustrade turned white. “She passed away.”
Violet sucked in a breath. “Oh, Thane. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He gave a half shrug. “Thanks, but I’m sure she’s in a better place.”
“Still,” said Violet, “I bet she misses you.”
He looked down at her. The golden flecks in his eyes glimmered.
Violet’s heart skipped a beat.
He edged closer, reaching out a hand to lay his palm on her cheek. His fingers laced into her hair, and his thumb stroked her cheekbone, her lips, her chin. Shivers ran down Violet’s spine and up her neck. Her chest fluttered and her knees grew weak.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Tell me this isn’t a dream.”
“If it’s a dream, it’s definitely not mine,” she said.
“How do you know for sure?”
“Because . . .” She hesitated, her body trembling again as his thumb slid across her bottom lip. “It’s not my dream because I don’t feel scared.”
The hand on her cheek froze. Thane’s gaze sharpened, and the molten gold began to cool. “Scared? As in, nightmares?”
Violet’s cheeks grew warm. “No, more like just the one nightmare.”
His brow creased. “What do you mean?”
“I just have this one nightmare that I’ve had for a few years. It’s . . .” She winced. “Actually, never mind. It’s stupid. A girl from college has been murdered, and here I am complaining about my own issues.”
She shook her head and tried to turn back to the cityscape, but his hand on her cheek wouldn’t allow her to turn away.
“Look at me, Violet.” He angled her face so she had no choice but to look at him. “I want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here for you, and I will . . . I’ll . . .” It was his turn to look away. A series of emotions flickered over his face too quick for Violet to decipher.
After a moment’s hesitation, he locked eyes with her. He took hold of her hands and clutched them to his chest. “Violet, will you accept my steadfast protection?”
Violet blinked a few times, and her mouth fell slightly open. “Umm . . .”
The gold in his eyes burned fierce.
This conversation had taken an intense turn. Any sane person would be running for the hills by now, but the words steadfast and protection had grabbed her. From her own mother abandoning her at the hospital to every lowlife foster parent and burned-out social worker abusing and ignoring her, not one person in her life had been willing to remain “steadfast.”
“Yes?” she replied uncertainly. What if Thane’s question wasn’t as sincere as she hoped?
“Then I pledge my soul to you. My flesh is your flesh. My breath is your breath. My blood is your blood. My bones are your bones.”
Violet’s eyes widened as he spoke. His tone was rigid and formal but filled with a deep underlying passion. Was she supposed to respond with the same type of formality? “Is that, like, a poem or a quote from a movie or something?”
A corner of Thane’s mouth twitched up, and his posture relaxed a little. “Yeah, something like that.” He let out a nervous laugh and took a step back. “I’m sorry. That was totally weird.”
Violet immediately regretted her awkward reaction. “No. It wasn’t weird. It was . . . um . . .”
A whistle came from the kitchen, announcing the kettle was done boiling. “Oh no,” said Thane, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve just realized, I don’t have any chai.” He heaved a dramatic sigh.
Violet placed a hand on her hip and shook her head. “That’s it. I’m leaving. How do you expect me to stay here without any chai?”
“If you like, I can duck down to the store and get some.”
Violet waved a hand. “No it’s fine. I’ll just pretend I’m normal and have a coffee like everybody else.”
“If coffee makes you normal, then I don’t think I’m drinking enough of it.”
Violet leaned against the balustrade and laughed, glad the mood was no longer uncomfortable.
A bell chimed, and they turned their attention to the front door. “That’s probably dinner,” said Thane.
They made easy small talk as they ate, much like the conversations during their meetups at the café. The aromas of spicy red curry, tender duck, crunchy bamboo shoots, and moreish coconut and turmeric rice had Violet’s olfactory senses and taste buds singing. After they’d eaten, Violet helped Thane clear the table.
She leaned on the island as he rinsed the dishes under the tap. The muscles in Thane’s arms
flexed as he rotated a plate under the stream of water, his cotton button-up shirt rippling with the movement. The top two buttons were undone, and Violet’s gaze fixed on the small exposed patch of skin. Her heart began to pound as she recalled the photo shoot—the sculpted form of his bare shoulders, chest, and abdomen.
Her eyes trailed up his neck, chin, and then to his mouth as she remembered the taste of his lips on hers, his hands pressing on her back, her legs—
“I think I can feel it again,” said Thane.
Violet blanched. “Um . . . what?”
He turned the tap off and grabbed a towel, dragging out the silence as he dried his hands. “I can feel you looking at me.”
Violet’s cheeks burned, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from shooting another glance at his mouth.
Thane’s eyes glinted with amusement, and his mouth twisted into a half smirk.
“Oh no.” Violet’s hands flew to her face. She turned away with an embarrassed whimper.
Thane chuckled. “Violet, don’t. It’s okay.” He took hold of her shoulders and pivoted her back to face him. He gently tried to pull her hands from her eyes, but she held firm. “Violet, let go.”
She gave a sharp shake of her head. “No, I can’t.”
“Violet.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “Look at me.”
It wasn’t a command, or even a plea, but an invitation. He was asking her to trust him. Whatever she decided to do next was her choice, and he would respect it.
After a few heartbeats, she allowed him to remove her hands, but she kept her eyes shut, not yet ready to look at him. His warm palms rested on her cheeks. With delicate strokes, his thumbs brushed back and forth across her eyelids, each touch easing the weight of her humiliation. Finally, she had enough courage to open her eyes.
Her gaze met deep brown irises, flecked with gold. Glowing lights like little fireflies hovered close by.
She sucked in a breath. “The lights are back.”
Shards of Venus Page 17