I lifted my teacup. “It’s working.”
Gina looked doubtful, but she nodded. “Yeah, that’s the ibuprofen. Works fast. So, what’s your plan, exactly? Your fella in there—the winged one—is fit as fuck. But is he dodgy, with him being the Devil? You actually trust his Maid of Night plan?”
“Salem is brutally honest, to a fault. So, if he says the Maid of Night can fix me, he is telling the truth. The question is, will she want something for her services?”
“I guess it’s worth a shot. That magic is working its way up your arms now.”
A knock sounded on the door, and I called out, “Yes?”
It creaked open, and Ossian poked his head in the room, birds fluttering just above his blond curls. “Oh, good! Are you feeling well enough to get up now? Salem is ready to fly you to Mag Mell.”
I downed the rest of the tea, loving the feel of it working through my system, soothing my muscles. “This tea is amazing, Ossian.”
He nodded. “It’s made with the powdered ballsack of a water bull.”
I covered my mouth, ready to hurl again. “I would have preferred maybe not knowing that.”
“The ballsack is blended with Earl Grey,” he said.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Ossian, my lovely friend, do you have a bath? I’m hoping to not look like a drowned rat at the Court of Silks.”
Ossian pointed to the far end of the room, where rays of sunlight streamed through a rounded doorway. “Bathroom is there.”
“Perfect.” I crouched down and pulled a bag off the floor, rummaging through some of the clothes I’d procured last night. “What do you think I should wear to the Court of Silks, Gina?”
“Jeans. No, silk!”
I pulled out a white button-down dress, like a shirt dress with long sleeves and a collar. It had a belt around the waist, and it looked quite crisp. “Well, I don’t have silk, but it will have to do. I don’t get the impression they wear many clothes, anyway.”
“Can I come?”
“No.”
I carried the new dress into the bathroom—a circular stone room, with a claw-foot copper tub in the center. I turned on the tap, filling the tub with hot water. Curls of steam rose from it. I peeled off my jeans and sweater, dropping them on the floor.
My throat felt dry as sandpaper, and I swallowed hard. Apart from the thirst, I was feeling a million times better. As I stepped into the bath, my muscles relaxed.
I grabbed the soap from the side of the bath and started lathering. But my eyes kept going back to the ribbons of dark magic under my skin. After a few minutes, I realized that I was scrubbing and scrubbing at them, as if I could get rid of them.
With a sigh, I rinsed off the suds and stepped out of the bath, hot water dripping down my body. Quickly, I toweled off, then picked my jeans up from the floor. I pulled the sea glass from one of the pockets. I had my pearly comb in there, too, which I’d take with me. Just in case.
But they didn’t seem like enough to protect myself if I was going into this mysterious Court of Silks. A knife wouldn’t go amiss.
Stark naked, I crossed to the door and pried it open, peering into Ossian’s bedroom. Gina was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flicking through her phone.
“Gina!” I whispered. “I need a favor.”
She looked up. “Yeah? You all right?”
I nodded. “I just need a little holster of some kind. Like a knife holster. Something I can wear discreetly under my dress. Or a small leather handbag. And a knife capable of slitting a person’s throat.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“In case I need to kill anyone, Gina.”
“Right. Okay.”
I slid the door shut and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear—white and lacy, to go under the white dress. I slipped my arms into the smooth material of the dress, then buttoned up the V-neck. The hem reached just below my knees, so I thought I’d wear a sweater, given the October nip in the air. Then I pulled my damp hair into a loose bun at the nape of my neck.
As I did, a gentle knock sounded on the door. When I pulled it open, I found Gina standing with a small leather pouch on a string, and a dagger. It looked like a misericord—small, but sharp. Better than nothing.
“Thanks, Gina.” I pulled them from her hand, then slung the little leather bag over one of my shoulders. I crammed the knife, the sea glass, and my comb into the bag. Then I stepped into my flats.
Fully cleaned and dressed, I crossed back into the bedroom. Ossian, gods bless him, had left a refill of the ballsack tea. I downed the second cup, and it soothed my burning throat. After slipping into a leather jacket, I was ready to go.
On to the Court of Silks and the Maid of Night. I crossed into the kitchen, where I found Ossian waiting with yet more tea. An entire thermos of it, in fact.
He smiled. “This should keep you from chundering. Won’t stop the impending death, though, I’m afraid.”
I lifted it. “Thanks.”
Shahar sat at Ossian’s table, a plate of pasta before her. She licked tomato sauce off her fingers. “My brother is waiting outside.”
Gina sidled up next to me, then wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’ll be here, looking after Ossian. But get back here soon, because he’s got no internet or telly. And I don’t want to have to come save your arse, so just hurry back.”
“I’ll be fine.” At least, it seemed like the right thing to say.
Gripping the warm thermos, I stepped outside. The sunlight blinded me for a moment. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Salem standing near palm and plum trees lining the shore. He’d been shirtless before, but now he wore what must be one of Ossian’s white shirts: too small, the buttons strained. But considering Ossian never wore a shirt, it was in pristine, crisp condition. In fact, the two of us sort of matched.
Ruddy sunlight washed over him. The sun was setting, unleashing a wild display of honey and ginger over the ripples. This was Salem’s time of day.
“Just give me a second before we go,” I said as I walked past him and slid off my shoes.
When I stepped into the waves, the feel of the seawater against my legs sent a thrill racing up my calves. The ghost of my magic stirred in my chest. But where the heady rush of power should have been, I felt only hollowness. No magic crackled from my fingertips.
Disappointed, I turned back to Salem. Back on the rocks, I put on my shoes again. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Without another word, he crossed to me, then scooped me up—one hand beneath my knees, and the other wrapped around my waist. He pulled me into his chest, carrying me like a bride over the threshold. I wrapped my arms around his neck, reminding myself not to get distracted by his scent, or the feel of his chest, like warm steel under his shirt.
His wings appeared behind him, gilded in the sunlight, dark feathers shimmering with flecks of gold and dazzling me for a moment. I wanted to reach out and stroke them.
But I kept my hands where they were. He was only sticking around a few days more. I couldn’t let myself get too comfortable with him. He was dangerous as sin, and his seductive presence had a magnetic pull to me. Whatever else happened during the next day, I couldn’t let myself fall under his spell.
12
Salem
With Aenor in my arms, I flew east toward the Court of Silks, the setting sun at my back and the salty breeze whooshing over my feathered wings. A glittering sapphire sea spread out beneath us.
Just the feel of Aenor pressed against me threatened to send the entirety of my restraint crashing into the ocean. All at once, I felt acutely aware of every point where our bodies met. I had an insane desire to seem perfect around her and to explain all my flaws at the same time, to tell her everything.
My wings pounded the air behind me. I tried to distract myself with the glory of the setting sun. But Aenor’s scent made my blood pump, and all I wanted to do was kiss her until her chest flushed.
Here she was, distracting me again.
This was the magic of fate at work, not the bond of two lovers who knew each other’s thoughts and fears. It wasn’t the sturdy stonework of two people who’d slowly revealed their most painful memories and wildest dreams to each other over the years, two people who’d learned every gesture and expression over time. Our bond was like a glass palace: beautiful but fragile.
This was magic—an illusion. A curse of its own sort.
It was just that it felt so real.
If I had cognac now, I’d drink it. Instead, I had flask of vodka from Ossian’s house burning a hole in my shirt pocket. Vodka wasn’t my drink of choice. In fact, it was like an atrocity poured straight down my throat. And yet I wanted it now, to dull this unfamiliar, rising panic every time I thought of the dark magic winding under Aenor’s skin.
Panic and I had been strangers for centuries, but now we were growing quite acquainted.
From my chest, Aenor peered down at the ocean, and she tightened her arms around my neck. That little shift in her body filled me with a wild sense of protectiveness. As I watched her hair catching in the wind, I saw an image of her standing on the cliffside of old Ys long ago, before I’d ruined it.
“Salem”—Aenor looked into my eyes—“you’re burning up. Your body feels like it’s about to burst into flames.”
I looked down at my shirt, finding that it had started smoking, and took a slow, deep breath.
She turned to look out at the sea again. In this wild twilight, her skin was tinged with rosy light.
“You could rule Nova Ys, you know. After you’re cured.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. Guilt, I suppose, for taking it all away from her. Or maybe I just wanted to know she’d be set for life when I was no longer there. I wanted her on a throne, an army at her command and a legion of servants to tend to every one of her needs.
A quizzical line formed between her eyebrows. “What made you think of that?”
“I just think you’d make a strong queen. And I like to think of you commanding an army.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure that’s for me.”
“Why not?”
“I have no experience. When I was close to ruling Ys, I was fully under my mother’s control. And—” A sharp intake of breath. “And I’m not sure I’m anything like her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She commanded a crowd in a way I never could. She walked into a room and people just wanted to please her. They felt safe with her. She was just… so sure of herself. And she didn’t have the same legacy I have.”
“What legacy is that?”
“My father was particularly bloodthirsty. He nailed people to trees. And I think she saw his darkness in me. She asked me to execute someone, but the weird part was… a part of me liked doing it. While I was making the sacrifice, it kind of thrilled me.” She bit her lip. “You know what? I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”
“I don’t see what you feel so guilty about. Killing people can be enjoyable. You know, there’s a good chance the only thing meaningful that man ever did was die. He helped your crops grow again, didn’t he? Anyway, people spend far too much time feeling guilty for things.”
Aenor flashed me a weak smile. “Hmm. You could be a therapist if you stuck around.”
“Sadly, my wisdom would be like giving walnuts to a toothless man in most cases.”
When she took a deep breath, her chest brushed against mine, and my pulse raced. My mind was ablaze with images of me kissing her breasts, taking one of her nipples in my mouth. As my gaze swept over her body, I could imagine her naked, spread out on a bed before me.
But when I looked into her face, I saw that she was frowning again. “Your chest is starting to smoke again. What is that?”
My fingers tightened around her legs and waist. It was impossible to think clearly around her. Around her, it was like there was no one else in the world. Neither Shahar, nor Anat. It was just Aenor and me.
Clearly, I was going soft. I needed doom, mortality. I needed to think of the prison of our bodies, trapping us on Earth if I didn’t leave here.
A thousand years ago, in Scotland, when a nobleman wanted to slaughter someone at his feast, he’d bring out the severed head of a black bull. The gruesome thing symbolized death. I needed a severed bull’s head, dripping with gore, buzzing with flies. I needed to lay it out before her, to break this intoxicating spell between us.
Because this was my dark truth: if I let myself feel anything for Aenor, it would mean her death.
I simmered with the need to tell her everything, to tell her my entire history, every thought and desire before her. It was an insane impulse—a feeling that if I spread out all the broken pieces of myself before her, she could put them back together.
But really, it would never happen. I had been cursed long ago, and part of the curse meant I couldn’t speak of these things.
“Your fingers are like a vise,” she said.
I loosened them, my gaze catching on a little white light that swooped around us.
And there it was: the contemptible will-o’-the-wisp that followed me, watching to see if I would slip up. A tiny fae spy, stalking me.
I took a deep breath. This close to my destiny, I would not lose focus.
“You feel guilty for executing one person,” I said. “Maybe I can help you put it in perspective. You once said that I hide my true nature with a veneer of sophistication. And you were right. Do you know what lies beneath my expensive suits and cognac? I don’t feel anything for anyone. I exist only to torment others. I once seduced a farmer’s wife, and when the man found us fucking under a redbud tree, he flew into a rage. Do you want to know what I did to him?”
“Not at all.”
But the perverse desire to tell the truth rose in me like lava. “I broke the man’s limbs so he couldn’t walk. I burned his feet beyond recognition, rendering him helpless. I started to devour him, starting with his stomach—”
Aenor’s jaw dropped. “Can you not? I’m nearly out of the anti-nausea tea.”
“And when I’d finished, I saw his daughter watching me. And I knew she’d never be the same.”
I’d done many terrible things in my life. But that one… that one I remembered, because the little girl had had enormous, dark eyes, just like Shahar’s, and she’d been clutching her pet cat.
Aenor looked like she was about to throw up again.
“And I haven’t changed, Aenor. I could do the same tomorrow—rip a man to shreds on impulse. Torture someone to death. Those flames you saw are a reminder of what I really am, and the reason I’m leaving.”
And there was the black bull’s head, laid out before her.
Her hand was covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “I think you’ve made your point.”
My wings pounded the air like a slow heartbeat. “I feel carnal desire, of course.” For you, and you alone, I added in my mind. “I feel rage. And that is it.”
“So, you don’t care if the world burns and everyone dies.” Aenor frowned. “Just remind me why it was that you locked yourself in the soul cage instead of leaving with Shahar when you had the chance?”
I felt something like dread wending through my own veins, and I shot a glance at the will-o’-the-wisp. I had to put a stop to this discussion.
I kept my face completely impassive—bored, even. “I’d planned to fuck you one more time before I was done with this world, and it would have been difficult to do if you’d boiled to death in the ocean.”
When she looked back at me, her eyes had grown darker, pools of shadows. The ice-cold fury there almost stopped my heart. I could hardly breathe with her looking at me like that. “But you’re leaving something out.”
She didn’t believe me, and this was dangerous with that little spy around. Did she know the truth? I couldn’t let this come out now, in front of those who were watching. Dangerous, dangerous territory.
I tightened my jaw. “Don’t try to romanticize me, Aenor. I’ve told you what I am.”
<
br /> “Oh, I know you’re a total dirtbag, don’t get me wrong. But it’s just that you’re leaving something out. I can feel it every time your fingers tighten on my thigh. The secret you’re holding in is eating at you like a cancer. You want to tell me something important, but you’re stopping yourself.”
She knew me better than I thought. But we couldn’t talk about the fact that she was my mate—not now. I’d pulled her in so close, now, that I could feel her pulse against my skin.
At last, when the bloody will-o’-the-wisp flitted away again, I started to relax a little more. Perhaps I had satisfied it enough, convinced it that I loved no one, that I could still devour a living man’s body while his child watched on in horror. Good show, Salem.
“Here’s the truth,” I said. “I killed your mother and destroyed your kingdom. I stole your power and gained control of your mind while I had you chained in my rocky basement. I fantasized about using that control to satisfy my darkest sexual desires with you, my prisoner. In short, I’ve been your worst tormentor. And guess what? After all that, fate has decreed that you are my mate.”
There it was—another bull’s head on the platter. But she wasn’t screaming with horror.
She simply blinked at me, her expression icy.
“It’s why we can heal each other with a hand on the chest. Usually,” I added.
“I know.”
“I see. Well, then you understand. The gods fated us as mates, because they want us to suffer. Because we are the worst possible choices for each other, and this world is corrupted.”
Her jaw clenched. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but I didn’t launch into a the world is a hellish corpse diatribe right to your face.”
I was starting to feel worse than when I’d eaten that man. “If I stayed here, you would someday watch me as I started to incinerate those around me. You’d be surrounded by the screams of the dying. I’d bring you pleasure, then death. That’s what the gods have in store for us. And your life would be at risk, always.”
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