My mind roiled with panicked thoughts about Baleros.
He’s coming for you. He burns for you.
Ruadan stood behind us, his dark magic whispering over my body.
I cast a quick look at Maddan. Regrettably, the Institute’s healers had already fixed his little syphilis issue. The lesions and rotting nose had already cleared up.
I had not been offered the benefit of healers, and no one here seemed to care if my body still burned from Maddan’s magic. Half lust, half pain, and all distracting.
I felt acutely aware of Ruadan’s presence just behind me, and some insane impulse had me wanting to back up into his body and press myself against him.
For one thing, the lust magic was still swooping through my core, heating my body. For another, I instinctively knew that Ruadan could heal the remnants of the pain eating at my bones and muscles. But I held my ground, and I clenched my fists to avoid letting Maddan catch on to how much he’d screwed with me.
I sucked in a deep breath.
He burns for you. What did it all mean?
On the throne before us, Savus’s body glowed with pale, silver light.
“I asked you to kill within the shadows,” he began, “and once again you failed. You slaughtered every vampire, true, but you terrified the humans at the same time. What is the explanation for this?”
From behind, Ruadan stepped forward, and I felt the power of his magic snaking up my spine. It licked at my body, taking away some of my pain.
“One of your novices got sloppy,” said Ruadan, “staking a vampire in the open—just by the entrance. The other vampires saw the attack, and pandemonium erupted.”
Savus lifted his eyebrow, glaring at me. “Which novice?”
“Prince Maddan.”
I could see Savus’s jaw visibly tighten, and he narrowed his eyes. That was not the answer he wanted. “Are you sure it was the prince?”
“Yes.” A cold fury imbued that one little word. Ruadan didn’t like being questioned.
Of course, if it weren’t for the crown, he would be the alpha.
Grand Master Savus cocked his head. “Fine. Your novice did well enough, today. Bring her back to her cell.”
I stepped forward, rage simmering in my chest. “I’m not doing that.”
Savus’s eyes flashed with fury, and wavering candlelight glinted off his silver crown. “You don’t have a choice. Unless we decide that you are fit to become a knight, which is unlikely, you are our prisoner. It’s the cell or your head on the execution block.”
I looked down at my fingernails, feigning nonchalance. “You can’t execute me. It’s clear now that the Old Gods favor me. Once again, I killed more than the other novices. You keep trying to throw obstacles in my way, but it’s not working. I have no lumen stone. I had no money. I was in a cell for days, getting hit with Maddan’s bone-shattering magic. No proper food. And I still killed more vampires than they did. The Old Gods favor me, and you can’t defy them. They’re the ones who keep you on the throne.”
Maddan’s face reddened. “Perhaps they’re just keeping the gutter whore alive as a joke?”
I crossed my arms, desperate to get out of here and to speak to Ruadan. There were a few holes burned into the fabric of my dress from the would-be-assassin’s explosion. The vampire was a deranged psycho, but gods-damn, that man was committed. He’d gone out on his terms. He’d committed to his task—abduct me, or die trying.
I was going out on my own terms, too, even if it meant self-destructing.
I cocked a hip, the pleasant smile still warming my features. “If I have to stay in that prison, perhaps I’ll sit out the next trial. And the next one. I simply won’t participate. That’s not what the Old Gods want, is it?”
“What if I simply kill you?” he hissed.
I shrugged. “Then kill me.” I was calling his bluff. If he killed me, he’d lose that precious silver crown of his, and anyone would be able to overthrow him.
His jaw tightened. “Perhaps you don’t value your life. If that’s not a deterrent, how about I torture you?”
“You’re already letting Maddan torture me in the prison. I don’t see how it could get worse. Maybe you should have kept a leash on him if you wanted better leverage.”
Savus’s low growl reverberated through my gut. “What do you want?”
“I just want what the other novices have. A lumen stone. A proper room for Ciara and me to sleep in. Oh, and some of that amazing fae food. That’s all I ask for. What every other novice has.”
Grand Master Savus cut a sharp look at Ruadan. “Bring her to the Liorcan Tower. She may sleep in one of the servants’ rooms. Her human will remain in a separate room. And please understand that our guards will be watching you at all times.” He snarled. “No lumen stone. This is as far as I’m willing to bend before I rip your body to pieces.”
Well, it was better than the devil’s arsecrack, I supposed.
Through an arched stone hallway, I walked by Ruadan’s side. Candlelight danced over the hall, gilding his perfect features. He towered over me, casting me in his shadow.
Two guards trailed behind us, prepared to listen to anything we might say.
I couldn’t quite explain the deep sense of betrayal I felt whenever I looked at him. After all—I’d betrayed him. I’d stabbed him, and run off with his precious lumen stone. But then we’d worked together to take down Baleros, and for some idiotic reason, I’d hoped it had meant something. I’d hoped for forgiveness.
A pit opened in the hollow of my stomach. He’d done a few nice things for me in the past—blankets, healing. Letting me keep the lumen stone. Allowing me to live. A pathetic part of me had desperately wanted to believe that he’d done those things because he’d cared.
Now that I’d returned to the Institute, I realized how stupid that was. He’d killed his last two novices. He’d lured me back here, only to throw me in a prison. He called me “gutter fae” instead of using my name. He’d left me to rot in the Palatial Room, healing me just enough so that I didn’t die. He wanted me punished as much as Savus did.
My jaw tightened. When did I start giving a shit if anyone called me “gutter fae”? This wasn’t like me. Something about him just got under my skin and drove me crazy.
Ruadan paused at a door, and it opened into a tiny room. This wasn’t like the other rooms I’d seen. It was more like the size of a closet, with a single bed in the center. A plain, red rug lay on the stone floor near the bed.
I had no bath in here. Still, an archway opened into a tiny bathroom, so that was a step up from sleeping in my own filth.
I crossed into the bathroom, irritated to find that it was basically just a hole in the stone, with a bowl of water next to it for handwashing.
I breathed in deeply. The bedroom itself contained only two objects—the bed and the rug.
One of the guards—a broad-shouldered man with a long, aquiline nose and golden hair—crossed into the room. It took me a moment to recognize him, but he was the same guard I’d briefly charmed the last time I was at the Institute. He was the drunk one who’d nicknamed me Viscountess von Tittington. Creepy, but oddly endearing, and at least he didn’t hate me.
Ruadan gestured at him. “Ealdun here will be your guard. He will remain in the room with you.”
I stared at them. “In the room with me?”
Ealdun lifted his chin. “Grand Master Savus’s orders.” I noticed he wasn’t calling me Viscountess von Tittington in front of Ruadan. In fact, he was making every effort not to look at me.
I shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself. I hope you enjoy my singing, Ealdun, because I do love Taylor Swift.”
“Enjoy the gutter fae,” said Ruadan. He turned, stalking out the door in a blur of dark shadows.
I bit down hard on the urge to scream at him that he was a snobby twat. Truthfully, my heart tugged at his parting shot. I shoved my disappointment deep down inside, willing myself to forget about it.
I’d already kno
wn what he was like. I’d told myself that trusting him was a mistake—that he’d lead me to the execution block, and the betrayal would kill me before the blade ever did. I’d been right.
Chapter 12
Fatigue pulsed through my body, and the cold stone floor was calling to me. When I wasn’t sleeping in a festering dung hole, I slept on a stone floor.
I began singing—off key—as I pulled off my boots.
I took a little pleasure at the grimace on Ealdun’s face as I sang. I had nothing to change into, so I curled up on the floor, still wearing my black dress. It was covered in rainwater, vampire ash, and my own blood. I really wanted a bath.
I was on the other side of the bed from Ealdun, shielded from his view on the stone floor. Maddan’s magic still flickered through my veins—hot and cold, pleasure and pain, and the intensity overwhelmed me. I felt as if my body were clenching and unclenching, racing with sensations. My nipples chafed against the filthy fabric of my dress.
Even so, my eyes floated shut, and I tried to calm myself with thoughts of tree-dappled hills—just like the ones I’d dreamt about in the cell.
I didn’t even notice as I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to the scent of pine, and a warm hand on my back. Violet eyes pierced the darkness. A heavy rain hammered the windows outside. For just a moment, I wanted to wrap my arms around Ruadan, to let his warmth and his magic soothe me.
Then, rage and that sense of betrayal welled in my chest as I stared up at him. Humiliatingly, tears pricked my eyes, and I fought the urge to punch him in his beautiful face.
“How did you get in here?” I whispered.
He brushed his hand over my waist, pulling the remaining bone-shattering magic from my body. I sighed with relief, closing my eyes again for a moment.
Then, I met his gaze again. “Have you come to call me a gutter fae again?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I’d just let him know that his words had gotten to me, when I’d been trying to pretend that I didn’t care.
Baleros’s first law of power: Knowledge gives you control.
“Don’t raise your voice too high,” he whispered. He nodded at the other side of the room.
I peered over the bed, where I found Ealdun slumped on the floor, sleeping.
“What happened to him?” I asked in a whisper.
“I made him fall asleep. The same thing I’ve done to Maddan every night to keep him away from your cell.”
“You’ve been putting Maddan to sleep? Why?”
Ruadan raised his perfect eyebrows. “Because I didn’t want him to torture you anymore.”
I took a deep breath. More confusion. “Why are you here?”
“I saw the vampire immolate himself. What happened?”
I sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “On his wrist, I caught a glimpse of Baleros’s tattoo. He said, ‘he’s coming for you.’ And ‘he burns for you.’ He works for Baleros. Not to mention the fact that…” I paused, not wanting to explain the whole butterscotch thing. “Someone was screwing with me when I was in the Palatial Room, tossing me little symbols of my relationship with Baleros. Is there any chance that monster could still be alive?”
Shadows flitted through Ruadan’s eyes. “I can’t entirely explain why his body ignited after I killed him. But I did kill him. Are you sure it was Baleros’s symbol?”
I lifted the sleeve of my dress, showing him the brutal scar on the underside of my wrist. “Oh, I’d know his symbol anywhere. I had the same mark on my skin. Except, because I was a gladiator, it was a brand instead of a tattoo.”
A powerful pulse of Ruadan’s dark magic thrummed over my skin, and shadows pooled in his eyes. It seemed the topic of Baleros provoked some kind of primal rage in Ruadan.
“What happened to yours?”
“I cut it off, obviously. I didn’t want to live with his brand.”
“Why not?”
I gritted my teeth. “Why not? Are you insane? Because he’s a monster who made me think I was a monster. I didn’t want him to control me any more than he already does. I mean, any more than he did. I’ve always wanted him dead. What the hells do you think?” I willed my heartbeat to slow, realizing that I’d lost control of my emotions.
Ruadan’s icy magic slid over my skin. “You say you wanted him dead, and yet you did his bidding, and you allowed him to live in the arena.” Anger flickered in his violet eyes, and the ice had returned to his voice.
“Why do you hate him so much? Because he turned on the Shadow Fae?”
A sharp breath. “Something like that.”
I could tell by the hesitation in his response that it wasn’t the full answer. Moreover, I’d turned on the Institute of the Shadow Fae, and he hadn’t killed me.
Whatever the case, Ruadan was hiding important things from me. He trusted me no more than I trusted him.
Chapter 13
“You haven’t explained to me why you failed to kill him. I brought the darkness, like you asked.” A ripple of dark magic thrummed over my skin. “But you didn’t even try. Why?”
Knowledge gives you power over a person. How much power did I want Ruadan to have? I supposed he already knew I cared about Ciara, considering I’d insisted on bringing her here. He could already use her as leverage if he wanted.
“He took Ciara,” I said. “He was holding her in a cage, and he was going to kill her. I didn’t kill Baleros in the arena because I was there to save Ciara, and in the moment, I could only do one or the other. I didn’t have an iron weapon, and I needed answers from him. As soon as I knew where she was, I went after her.”
Silver glinted in his eyes, and his magic stroked the back of my neck. “You stabbed me to protect Ciara.”
“Yes. I still think stabbed is a bit much. It didn’t kill you. It was more like a…you know, like a setback, I’d call it.”
“You setbacked me in the chest, with a knife,” he said, with a straight face.
I almost wondered if that was a joke, but Melusine had warned me that the fae nobility were incapable of joking.
“Did you consider using iron?” he asked.
Only the rain filled the silence, until I added, “Let’s not dwell on what might have been. I’m alive. You’re alive. Let’s move forward.”
He cocked his head, studying me closely. I had the impression he was reconsidering something.
He reached for me, lifting my wrist, and he traced his fingertips over the scarred skin where I’d cut off Baleros’s brand. The feel of his fingertips on my skin sent an unwelcome rush of tingles through my body. I had a hard time reconciling this gentle touch with the Ruadan who called me gutter fae and dragged me over stones.
“You hate Baleros.” His intonation suggested this was some sort of revelation.
“Of course I hate him. He’s been messing with my head since I was fourteen.”
Shadows slid through Ruadan’s eyes, and his fingers tensed on my skin. “That’s how old you were when he enslaved you?”
“Yes.”
I realized he was still holding my wrist, still tracing the scarred skin. Why did that scar fascinate him so much? Whatever the case, the feel of his gentle fingertips over such a vulnerable part of my body made my cheeks warm.
Gods-damned incubi.
“And you think Baleros could still be alive? That he sent an assassin after you?” He was leaning in closer, his velvety voice, now sensual, slipping around my skin like a caress.
What was with this guy? Were his hot and cold moods just another method of control?
I stared at the hypnotic swirl of his fingers over my skin. Somehow, I knew the truth deep within my bones. Baleros would never be easy to kill. “I think he’s alive. I think he’s working with someone from the Institute, someone who tried to screw with my mind in prison. Someone who tipped him off about the trial tonight. Obviously, my money is on Maddan, because he’s one of the worst living creatures on Earth. But the vampire lit himself on fire before I got the chance to
torture him for information, so that’s just a guess.”
Ruadan was gently pulling me closer by my wrist—the gesture almost protective. “You’ve got a guard in the room with you, and more outside the door. In theory, you’re safe. But Baleros has sent his spies into the Institute before. It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility that some of the guards could be working for him.”
“He’s sent spies here? Into the Institute?”
“The last two novices I executed.”
My eyes widened. “Oh.” Slowly, understanding was beginning to dawn in my mind. “That’s why you killed them.”
“When I first saw you fight Aengus, I knew that Baleros had trained you. I considered killing you. Then, I thought maybe you would lead me to him.”
I swallowed hard. “I get it. You thought I was a drunk, undisciplined gutter fae slob, but you still wanted me here to lead you to Baleros.”
“Once I learned you’d been a gladiator, it changed things a little. Not the slob part, I still think that’s true. But I understood you were not a spy. You were a slave.”
My cheeks flushed. “Not a fan of that term.”
“Baleros had ways of controlling his gladiators through mental torment. I started to think maybe you’d turn against him if given the chance. In the arena, you nearly did. Until you let him live.”
“Is that why you’ve been…” I gestured into the air, unwilling to finish my sentence. There was no way in hells I was letting him know he’d hurt my feelings.
“What?”
It was embarrassing how much I’d wanted it all to be an act, and it really had nothing to do with anything. We had a common goal: kill Baleros. That was it. Were those tears stinging my eyes? Mortifying.
I turned away from him. Caring about people is a liability. “Never mind. You can fuck off now. You interrupted my sleep. And don’t come back into my room without my permission. I don’t need your unwelcome intrusions. Do you understand?”
He dropped my wrist, and my entire body suddenly felt cold.
I waited until I felt the whoosh of his shadowy magic over my skin.
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