by Rebecca Main
I win our glare-off, Bash steering his gaze toward the floor. An impatient huff bursts past my lips. I do believe Briar’s feelings for Bash are genuine, if only for her adamancy at keeping their relationship a secret and the subtle jealousy laced within her lesson.
“You do?”
I let out another huff, far more dramatic than the last. My arms fold snugly over my chest. “Yes, I do. Aren’t family rings rotated in some families? Isn’t it possible the ring was with someone before Briar, and it's that vampyré who's the real culprit?”
Bash remains hunched with his gaze averted. “It doesn’t matter,” he tells me, voice forlorn. “If one member of the Roux Household is in possession of one of our rings….”
“Then chances are they have the others as well.”
The room becomes unreasonably cold at the affirmation, and we fall into silence. I sit by Bash at the end of my bed and rest a tentative hand on the middle of his back. Briar’s betrayal—no, not Briar, the Roux Household’s betrayal hits hard. I had been so confident of the Mubarks’ guilt that all others had been swept to the side. Iris has always been cruel though, I think, more so than anyone else.
“Don’t tell him,” Bash pleads. My hand retreats from his back. “If he finds out what I’ve done, it will kill him, I know it. After everything he’s gone through, how could I let myself fall for a Roux?”
“Bash….”
Frenzied eyes bore down on me. “Please,” he whispers, visibly gulping. “I just need a little more time. I need to see if any of the others have our rings. I need to find out who wore the ring before Briar. If there’s any other information that could explain why she has it, I need to know.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I ask tentatively.
“If she gets hurt because of this—because I didn’t do enough research—I’ll never forgive myself.”
“And if you find out they betrayed us? That the Rouxs are the reason Jakob was banished in the first place and Briar a part of the plot? Then what?”
Bash flinches. “Then I’ll inform Jakob of my findings, but only after the gathering of the Celestial Court.”
A wrinkle develops between my eyebrows. “Why after?”
Bash’s eyebrows raise to his hair. “If the Celestial Court were made aware of the act, the entire household would be executed.”
++
I do not sleep well, not with the way my thoughts race through my head. When I pull myself from the bed, it is well past sunset and the apartment suite is quiet. I find myself grateful for the peace, still lost in my thoughts.
What am I to make of Bash’s predicament? I vowed before he left not to speak a word to Jakob or anyone else about his discovery. But the vow already leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
It's bound to end in disaster, and I can’t help but feel for Bash.
Though I am ordered to stay in the apartment, I ponder the thought of rebellion. Should I put on my most provocative gown and strut my way through the most popular parlors? Should I make an appearance at the Pits and put back on my mask of cold indifference?
Bash’s words refuse to leave my head. It will kill him, I know it. After everything, he’s gone through. How could I let myself fall for a Roux?
I know the bare minimum of Jakob’s history. That his family was slain, and the blame was laid upon his shoulders as well as the punishment. But why was his family slain? What transgression dealt them such a fatal blow?
I have an inkling the answer hides somewhere in Bash words, even if they had been spoken to himself. The way he said the name Roux… the emphasis nags at me. What don’t I know?
“I told you, I’m fine. Stop fussing!” Nova and Ruby come barreling through the front door. Ruby hot on Nova’s heels as she stomps her way into the great room. I pull myself up onto my elbows from my prone position on the couch.
“Your shoulder is dislocated. The entire left side of your face is bruised. Not to mention you limped the entire way back here, and you're fine?” Ruby’s exasperated gaze falls to me. “Hi, Irina.”
Ruby is dressed in a bodycon the color of a bright spring sky. Her bob does not hold a single curl, and her makeup is shimmering and full of allure instead of the dark she prefers. This is a far cry from Ruby’s usual ‘20s inspired garb. Nova, on the other hand, is dressed in her typical black ensemble. The only misgivings about her outfit are the multiple rips and tears and stains of blood. Her ponytail hasn’t fared well either, left askew and sticking to the side of her face.
I sit up further. “What happened?”
Ruby guides Nova onto the chesterfield chair footstool. “Stay there,” she orders before zipping over to retrieve a glass of blood.
“I can’t drink anymore today,” Nova says. “I already drank my allotment this morning, so I would be good to fight.”
With a cry of frustration, Ruby puts the blood back and comes to stand in front of me, her hands high on her hips. “I’ll tell you what happened. Nova was winning her fight when another vampyré decided to drop in and help out the other guy.” Ruby’s scoff puts mine to shame as she turns back to Nova. “As you can see, two on one isn’t precisely Nova’s strong suit.”
“I won, didn’t I?” She glowers back.
Ruby sniffs. “Barely.”
“Who were you fighting?” I ask.
“A Pulzin. And then two Pulzins,” Nova answers. She attempts to stand, but Ruby places a hand on her shoulder. By Nova’s hiss, I assume it is the injured one.
“I said stay here. I’ll get you something to clean your wounds. And some ice for the swelling.” Ruby’s fingers reach up to graze the blue and yellow monstrosity covering Nova’s jawline and cheekbone. Cupping it carefully, she gazes down at her solemnly.
“I’m fine.”
Ruby zips away, but not before I note the way her lips squeeze together, as if Nova’s denial is a personal offense to her care, however overeager it might be.
“So they ganged up on you?” I ask once Ruby is out of the room.
“Basically,” she responds with a heavy-laden sigh. Nova rearranges her hurt arm carefully, bending it at the elbow and tucking it close to her waist. Ruby appears before us in a blur, her hair swishing back and forth in agitation as she drops the bundle in her arms.
“Don’t you dare try and fix your arm yourself!” she screeches at Nova. The Inuit girl cringes, and then Ruby is upon her. A few moments later, I hear a pop and a sigh of relief. “I know that you’re a trained warrior and all, but you might recall that I’m decades older than you. I’m well-versed in broken bones and other injuries.”
“You’re well-versed in the breaking of bones and creation of injuries,” Nova drawls, licking the dried blood off her lips.
Ruby steps back with a brilliant smile. “You remembered my fondness for torture.”
Nova struggles to find her words, looking to me in a short moment of embarrassment before returning her gaze to Ruby. “Because you tell me about it, like, all the time.”
Ruby’s response is a pleased hum, and while I’m sure it brings a flush to Nova’s cheeks, there is no way for me to tell. Her bruising is too extensive, and the scratches on the other side of her face are red with irritation.
“Here.”
Ruby kneels before Nova, her hands quickly preparing a cotton pad with some liquid from a brown bottle. The biting smell wrinkles my nose. Hydrogen peroxide. Ruby presses the cleaning solution to the corner of Nova’s lips with great care. The two lock gazes, and suddenly it feels as if the walls are pressing down around us, leaving little room for such a large and fragile moment between the two vampyrés.
A wasted breath catches in the younger’s throat as she stares with widening eyes at Ruby.
I cast my gaze aside, feeling like the interloper I am. I miss what happens next, but when a smack echoes across the room, I turn to find Nova’s body blurring away with her vampyric speed. The cotton pad lies on the ground stained red, and
Ruby holds her hand awkwardly aside.
The vampyré sighs, her sights lingering on the hallway Nova disappeared to, then releases another when a door slams shuts.
“Well, that was interesting,” I murmur, eyebrow arched expectantly. Ruby casts a humorless look over her shoulder at me.
“She’s young. Barely twenty,” Ruby says, as if this answer explains everything. Ruby rises, her shoulders giving a lofty shrug as she takes Nova’s spot on the footstool. “It will take time for her to heal.”
Ruby doesn’t mean her current ailments.
“Fifty years, I’m sure.”
Ruby blinks back at me. Her smile comes slowly to her face. “Eventually she’ll embrace this life. It’s a phase we all go through at some point or another, but it passes.”
“But those vampyrés didn’t have the promise of Vogart’s blade hanging over their heads.”
Another lofty shrug, but when her shoulders fall this time, they set themselves down deeper. “Most vampyré don’t find themselves in a Greater Household of the Dark Court either. It’s a very different life down here, and Nova is already settled in whether she realizes it or not. I’ve watched her fight several times. I see how she interacts with the others. The fight grounds her.”
“She fights because she hates vampyrés, and she gets to hurt them in the Pits without repercussions.”
Ruby hesitates. “Perhaps. I think she hates herself quite a bit more for not hating them as much as she says. I can see it in her eyes. She feels like it's a disservice to her former life, far more than any other vampyré I have met, even those stout Catholics.” For a moment, I’m sure the heft of Ruby’s eye roll will tilt her backward, but she remains pert and upright. “What it must be to become one of your greatest enemies,” she muses.
“Is that why she gets along with William so well?”
“Maybe.” Ruby rises and looks to the grandfather clock. Its hands climb to midnight at a crawl. Only half an hour until the dreaded chimes fill the great room. “Any other hard-hitting question I can answer while I’m still here?”
I toy with the bone stake in my hair and tuck my legs up to rest beneath me. “You’ll answer them?”
She gives one of her pretty hums, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I may or may not have overheard part of your conversation with Jakob last night. Something about being in the loop from now on.”
I narrow my eyes at her, not liking one bit the smirk that lies on her face. “Will Jakob stick to his word? Will he allow Nova to use the blade on herself after her first fifty years are complete?”
“Of course.”
“Really?” I question. My disbelief is a tangible thing.
Ruby’s head kicks to the left to study me, her own eyes narrowing back. “Jakob keeps his word,” she replies. I repress my snort. “He does. He does when it counts, and this counts.”
“Fine,” I drawl, only half convinced by the fervor of her words.
“You don’t like how he treats her,” she states.
I shrug and make myself comfortable against the emerald love seat. Its back is pin straight and unforgiving, but the bottom cushion is irresistibly soft. “Not particularly. He never cuts her a break.”
Ruby looks at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head and straightens only to lean forward. “She’s a fledgling vampyré. She doesn’t get a break because she's too unstable. Every vampyré is during their first fifty. She’s lucky she has a sire who cares enough not to treat her like some prized pet for fighting. She's lucky she has a family who cares about her well-being.”
Shame hounds me, and I turn my attention toward the embers in the fireplace. They glisten and smolder like dying jewels.
“He might be a tad hard on her, but he was with Sebastian and me as well. You know, Jakob had to go through his first fifty by himself. He didn’t have anyone to show him what to do or how to behave. He was alone, but his restraint is what we mirror ours on."
“I didn’t know that,” I say softly.
“He’s not keen on sharing, even less so with those he hasn’t sired.”
My cheek twitches as I spare Ruby a rueful grin. “And what about soulmarks?” She grins back. “Do you think he’ll let me go like he promised after we find the rings?”
“Yes,” she says, the “but” left conveniently out. My hardened stare fails to coax an answer from her.
Fine, then don't elaborate. “Tell me about the grudge between the Roux and the Vrana Household.”
Unease creeps onto Ruby’s face like small fractures. Her lips purse, and she squints her eyes. When she smooths her straightened hair, the very slightest tremor can be detected in her pinky finger.
“You still don’t know?” The question is far too heavy to be said so light. I give a firm shake of my head, and her shoulders collapse. “Oh.”
“I’ll take the SparkNotes version. I have all these pieces before me, but none of them fit together.”
Ruby mulls over my confession. “Right.” Ruby stretches the vowel out, still deciding what to do. Her shoulders roll back as she makes herself more comfortable on the footstool. “Swear to me you won’t tell Jakob.”
“I swear.”
Ruby catches her bottom lip with a fang and takes an unnecessary breath. “Jakob used to be involved with one of the Roux women. Ren.”
The truth hits me like a bag of bricks, knocking the wind from me even though I know far too well I shouldn’t be so… shocked? Distressed? Upset? He’s centuries old. Of course, he’s been with other women. I harden my constitution.
“Jakob has always harbored thoughts that his relationship with Ren was what caused the ‘incident.’ He thinks someone found out and wanted to make an example out of them, but out of the Vranas in particular.”
“How many households were around at that time? Surely not all thirteen.”
“No,” she concurs. “Not all of the households were established at the point of the Vrana Household’s untimely departure. But all of the Greater Households were.”
“Shouldn’t it be easy to narrow down the list of suspects based on—”
“It’s imperative we eliminate all possibilities. There's always a chance the rings were passed along, bartered, or lost in a fight.”
The Pulzins come to mind immediately at Ruby’s last example. Their household had won a ring from not one but two other households: the Montagues and Ascania Households. Both lost in the Pits. They’re a vicious lot—bloodthirsty.
I begin to fold in on myself, hands grasping at the slope of my ribs and beyond, my knees bundling closer together. “Why not make suspects of the other supernatural creatures at court?”
“We will. After the vampyrés are eliminated and the palace is searched.” Ruby tilts her head back at a most unusual angle to peer at the grandfather clock.
“And he loved her? This… Ren?”
I cannot stop the words from coming out. Slivers of the old Irina make their way through, shedding light onto what insecurities I still hold in my heart. That I am just a pawn in a bigger game. My significance only acknowledged when found useful. That I am nothing but a pretty face. True, the soulmark bond between Jakob and me is changing, but it isn’t real. It’s magic and fate weaving their spell. It's false.
“Of course,” Ruby sounds offended by the time she manages to redirect her attention away from the clock. “Are you implying that vampyrés can’t love?”
I blink. “No. Not at all.” I'm only checking to see if Jakob is capable of love. It's a traitorous thought, and its honesty makes it all the crueler. I will always be the one pining for love.
“Good. Because we can, you know. Very deeply, in fact. When one has eternity, it is easy to pass the time with lovers from around the world. But to have just one—one who you may always count on without a doubt,” emotion clots Ruby’s voice, “it’s a miracle to find such a love.”
There is something more there behind her poignant speech. A slip of her own hist
ory perhaps, and all at once I realize I am not the only one left raw and vulnerable in the room. “You’re very loyal to Jakob and Sebastian.”
Ruby’s returning gaze turns dark and serious. “He deserves it,” she says earnestly, and then she whispers, “He deserves many things.”
I force a false smile onto my lips, trying my damnedest to keep the condescension away from it. “Like his rings?”
“Like love,” she replies back, her almond eyes unwavering. “But yes, the rings, among other things.” She pauses to let it sink in, a smile blossoming on her softly painted lips. “I have to go. Thanks to a little maneuvering from Jax, I’ve secured a spot standing as witness to some small ceremony for the Mubarks.”
“Dressing to impress, then?”
She nods, nose wrinkling as she sweeps her eyes over the conservative dress she wears. “Something like that.” Her smile hardens. “Keep an eye on Bash for me, would you? I noticed he was acting odd the other night during dinner. Although Jakob’s history with the Rouxs has been put to rest, it hasn’t been forgotten. I’m a little nervous for Bash, stepping into a den full of hungry lionesses.”
My heart skips a beat, despite my orders for it to remain calm. There is a glint in Ruby’s eye, one I can’t place. “I’m sure he’ll be able to handle himself.”
“Be that as it may,” she says and stands. Her eyes drift back to the clock with displeasure. “I would feel better knowing someone is watching out for him for a change.”
“Of course.”
Ruby passes me a brilliant smile. One I return without thinking a second about—much like how I agreed.
“Wonderful. Be a dear and meet with someone on my behalf, would you? They have something to protect Sebastian from their siren song… a talisman.” There is a nervous edge to Ruby’s voice in spite of her keen smile.
I quirk a wry brow. “Do you really believe they’re part siren?”
“Some are,” she replies seriously. “Are you surprised? After all, William ‘the Beast’ roams these lonely corridors. A vampyré-lycan hybrid. Why not a siren-vampyré hybrid?”
I let out a little sigh and stand as well.