“You find my brands interesting,” the female Reaper said, catching me studying the tattoos that even ran between her fingers when she poured some amber liquid into my glass.
Her voice was beautiful, melodic in some indefinable way.
“What do they mean?” I asked, drawing the immediate attention of my male companions, as if what I’d asked was something horrible.
But the Reaper had no such reaction.
“Harvested souls leave a mark,” she said somewhat cryptically, but I knew what it meant. Each time she collected a soul for her Empress, it was branded into her body.
“To remind you?” I asked, struggling to understand.
The female met my stare, her exotic, brown eyes so human. “To bind me.”
Goosebumps tickled my arms.
Something about the empty, but beautiful voice made me not uncomfortable, not scared or sad. There was darkness in it. She reminded me of me. Before.
I had so many questions, and this Reaper may have been the first demon I’d encountered here who had no reservations about even looking at me, let alone being honest with me. I wanted to ask how she became a Reaper, if Reapers were once human. Where had she lived? Who had she been before changing over? Did she like being a Reaper?
But there wasn’t time for those things, so I asked instead, “do they hurt?”
“Yes.”
I jolted. “Are you in pain?”
“Not that kind of pain,” she whispered, then walked away.
Mystified, I stared after her. Absently, I picked up the cup that the female had filled, and raised it to my lips.
“I wouldn’t,” Rowan said, and his hand was on my wrist, coaxing my arm down again.
Grayson downed his glass, and was picking items off the trays with his fingers, stuffing his mouth. Since we were alone, even Cyrus reached over and snagged a few things from a tray, though he took smaller bites than Grayson and chewed a few times before swallowing.
Turning around, I asked, “why not?”
“You won’t like it.”
“How do you know?”
Though he hesitated, fighting a smile, he released my wrist and amended his wording. “I doubt you’ll like the taste.”
Eyes narrowed, suddenly feeling the annoyance of being entirely dependent upon three males since we got here, I lifted the cup and took a gulp.
It was a mistake.
I almost choked as I gagged on the putrid stuff. It burned my tongue and singed my throat on the way down, made my lips pucker from tartness, then shudder from its sickening sweetness.
When the worst of it passed, I looked over my shoulder at Rowan, who said everything he wanted to with his expression. At least his face had expression now that we were alone, no longer under the watchful eye of the Underrealm.
I nodded, as if he’d said what he was thinking out loud. “Curiosity abated.”
Surprise shot through his eyes, like he had expected me to be angry, then was replaced with those shards of white gold that made my belly ache with desire.
One look and this male could drive me crazy. What would it be like if he touched me? And didn’t pull away?
CHAPTER 35
Only a few minutes passed before Apollo returned, looking sullen. No wonder Grayson had been stuffing his face as if the food would be snatched away any second.
I wondered what happened to Stratton, who we’d been expecting. Nothing good, by the helpless and worried feelings the males were giving off. But none of them said anything about the Mischief demon’s absence.
Apollo, his giant size mesmerizing me again, said Iliana was ready for us, and led the way through the stone corridors. The whole place was too dark for my eyes, though I did notice the path we took gave the giant Hammer no trouble. He knew his way around these halls.
Before we got to wherever Iliana would receive us, Rowan held me back a few paces and mouthed, not wanting any nosy ears to hear, “do not telepath. She will hear.”
I nodded, wishing I could reach out and reassure him, reassure myself, but I couldn’t. He looked strained, and I knew the moment we were back with the others, he would become empty again. I hated that. The urge to feel his hot skin, see those white gold sparks in his eyes, make him growl for me was so strong.
Though it grated, I had to follow his example. Stay cold. Make myself blank. Rowan escorted me back to the group, who had stopped at a door, waiting for us to join.
The doors opened.
Sudden, harsh brightness made me flinch. I had to snap my eyes shut as they filled with water. I wasn’t prepared for the jarring sight, and the demon part of me suspected this was at least partly Iliana’s intention of the white room inside a dank, grey castle.
When I could see again, my sensitive eyes adjusting, I ogled the room. All white opulence and yellow gold, lit candles and plush, expensive looking rugs. The gold wasn’t like Rowan’s hair which reminded me of sunlight or those white gold shards that sometimes erupted in his eyes. This gold was the gold found in jewelry, the kind that pirates buried, the kind that kings acquired long ago. It all had a sense of being old. Plates along the walls, arches overhead, tables piled high with goblets, encased with jewels that sparkled in the bright light.
A strip of white marble on the floor squeaked and clicked under Rowan and my shoes as we strode forward, all eyes on us. The pristine marble led us all the way to a humongous throne of gold.
Sitting on the throne, back straight, eyes forward without looking excited or expectant in any way, was my mother. I knew her immediately.
Iliana was the most beautiful female I had ever seen. So beautiful, I didn’t understand why demons and my dad said I looked like her. Bronze skin, bronze hair, bronze eyes. It was difficult to look away. Her robes were pure white and draped over her curves in a way I was certain no human material would. She was the picture of elegance.
And she could have been my sister. She didn’t look much older than my twenty years. Maybe in her early thirties. Razers weren’t immortal, but there wasn’t a flaw, a wrinkle, a blemish, one bronze hair dulling to grey or out of place.
Oddly, I thought of Astor. Though the Sorcerer had been cruel to me, appeared more menacing, the picture of proverbial evil, she looked more human than my mother.
Flanking her sides and trailing in the wake of the throne were a dozen females, six on each side, fanning out so each could be seen. Their heads and faces were covered with gold hoods of the same material Iliana wore, making their individuality hard to determine. Their heads were bowed, their hands hidden within the gold robes. And they stood motionless, giving the spectacle an eerie feel.
But I knew those twelve females were half-castes. I could practically feel it, some sort of unspeakable kindred I only felt before at Division. Not with Benn. Not with Dad. Not with anyone but half-castes.
“Ah, Daughter. Please, do come in.”
Her voice sounded familiar, even though it had no reason to. I wanted to telepath with Rowan, know that he knew the things I was thinking, but I didn’t. I trusted his word.
Grayson and Cyrus scattered to the side of the vivid room, joining rows of demons who were watching with glamoured faces that I hadn’t noticed at first. The waves of emotion I got from them were disturbing. Some were bloodthirsty. Most were terrified.
“Royal,” I said, inclining my head like Octavia, Matteo, and Apollo had earlier at me. Formality felt weird on me usually, but today, in front of her, it felt necessary.
Iliana tsked, waving a bronze hand adorned with gold ink painted onto her skin. Or at least I thought it was ink, golden henna tattoos, not what a full-caste Razer female’s skin would look like. I wanted to ask Rowan, but couldn’t.
Telepathy at some point had become natural for me. The loss of it was more difficult than I expected.
“Please, Daughter. Do call me Mother.”
Inhaling deeply, I purposely thought through my words carefully. Planting a pleasant, studied, customer service smile on my lips, I said,
“I’d prefer not to.”
Iliana smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and didn’t look pleasant at all. If this was her customer service smile, she wasn’t very good at it.
She studied me with an air of disdain, but I didn’t think she looked disgusted on the outside. It was the waves of feeling I felt coming off her, seeping into the air around her that told me. Her appearance gave nothing of her contempt away. To the others around us, I bet she looked like the appraising mother she built herself up to be.
But I knew the truth.
Iliana said nothing for a long time, so I didn’t either, waiting patiently, but feeling antsy under the scrutiny. I wanted to fidget. I wanted to scratch my nose, tug at my shirt, raise my eyebrows. But I didn’t.
Rowan stood at my side, one step behind me, inclining his head and staring at the white marble. I didn’t dare look over at him, but I could feel the waves of tension within him.
Eventually, Iliana spoke again.
“You have accepted your place as Scion I see. And have even chosen a Sentinel. You have been a busy girl.”
Curiosity took over. “You seem surprised.”
She smiled that fake smile again, and the animosity in the air around her rippled.
“Of course, no one was sure if a half-caste could even be Scion. Though, now that you are here, bearing the Imperial Mark, having Blooded a Sentinel…without instruction…without proper training…”
I could feel the wonder hit her. The questions, the anticipation and curiosity. She just discovered a new toy. If she had thought I wouldn’t inherit any Scion traits, then I understood the surprise. Surely some part of her had to have wondered though. Why didn’t she come to check it out?
“With all the additional abilities the Blooding provides, I have considered it possible for a half-caste to have, perhaps, unexpected talents.”
I stared at her, trying to catch up. A few seconds ago, she didn’t even think I could bear the Imperial Mark. Now, she was acting like it was her plan all along.
She was saving face in front of her court. They would see her actions as protective, as curious, as calculating. Only, I knew the truth. She couldn’t hide her emotions from me.
Iliana would take advantage of what I could do if she knew. I could telepath with half-castes. And humans. Other castes couldn’t, even Royals. And I could feel demon emotions. They couldn’t hide them from me. If they could, surely Iliana would be right now.
She could never know.
“Matteo has informed me that you can telepath. Is that so?”
I nodded, wondering if Matteo and Octavia had beaten us here after all. Or could they telepath with her from Up Above?
“With all castes?” she asked, polite sweetness so fake, I couldn’t believe the demons in her court were so gullible to believe it.
I nodded again.
“What about others like you?”
Studying her emotions, my Razer half realized something. The sudden excitement laced with resentment. I couldn’t know for sure, but the idea settled into the back of my mind. She’d given birth to a half-caste. I was in her womb, part of her once.
Did that mean she could telepath with half-castes?
My demon half, as soon as the idea hit me, was convinced it was true, and suspected that had been her motive all along.
“Yes, I can telepath with half-castes,” I said, proud my voice didn’t carry even a hint of the disgust I felt about what I grasped.
And now I knew. Her bitterness and disquiet made it obvious. She didn’t want offspring. Iliana wanted power. My dad and I had been nothing but a tool to her.
She thought she’d be the only one.
Iliana considered what I could do, pondering every angle, every possibility within a span of seconds. When she spoke again, her declaration was absolutely not what I had expected.
“You must move in immediately, Daughter.” The familial term sounded sweeter than before—though there was no ownership towards me in her—now that she wanted something from me. “We have much we can learn from one another. I am interested in what strengths you may possess after you’ve been Blooded into the Underrealm.”
There was nothing but malice-tinged curiosity in her.
Gulping down the string of profanity I wanted to yell, I waited a moment, choosing my words wisely again. “I thought it was understood I’d already made my choice. I chose a human life.”
The fake smile on Iliana’s lips faltered. “You cannot deny what I have made you. We are blood, Daughter.”
You didn’t make me anything, I wanted to scream. You do not get to take credit for anything about me!
Instead, I said, keeping an even tone, “Blood doesn’t win over choice with me. I choose my family. I’ve already chosen Up Above.”
“I am family as well, Daughter.” She attempted a stern smile again, only this time she didn’t succeed. “You will learn to care for me like a mother.”
“I won’t.”
I’d held out hope that she had glamoured me when I was a baby to protect me, maybe to keep me from this world, maybe to protect me in some other way. That was my human half, a human hope. Now I knew the truth.
Any childish wish I’d had that Iliana disguised me for the sake of keeping me safe was dashed. It was all for her greed, her Razer need to rule, a calculating intelligence that could see the shape of things to come. Keeping me hidden had been part of her plan.
A female like Iliana probably always got what she wanted. Absurdly, she reminded me of Camille. They were both petulant and conceited, and neither knew how to process not getting something they wanted for probably the first time in their lives.
She would stop at nothing to force me to accept the Underrealm as my home.
“I can command you to join us here. You will not defy a direct order.”
She said it with confidence, but she didn’t know me very well. I damn well could defy her orders. I’d die before I’d join her. Now I knew I was nothing more than a pawn to her, an instrument, a doll. A means to gain more power.
The demon in me whispered to stay calm, to stay collected and to give her nothing to use against me. I let time pass, let my thoughts solidify before replying to her threat.
“If you think breaking the Treaty during your first year isn’t political suicide, then force me to stay down here with you. No matter what, I am half human, and demonkind will know the freedom you denied me. My decision to stay Up Above stands.”
I paused for a breath, then lifted an eyebrow, unwisely taunting her. “I wonder what other respected laws they’ll fear you’ll break in your years as Royal. For some reason, I doubt they’ll revere you so much if you start jeopardizing the Human-Demon Treaty.”
Her hatred seethed, and I just knew I was about to lose a limb, or some valuable section of my brain, even though Iliana’s outward appearance remained calm.
Matteo and Octavia arrived at that moment, entering the hall and spanning the room in seconds. Iliana greeted Matteo with a smile. A real one, I thought, but it gave me a chill.
“There are things you want,” my mother said wisely, and fear shot through me. My demon half recognized the significance of her words. I couldn’t hear the telepaths between them, but I could imagine what her Razer advisor was informing her about.
The human who stood by my side in the coffee shop.
The throaty warning Rowan gave when Matteo appraised my appearance.
She would use my love for them against me. When she let what I’d already deduced be known, I built opaque cages within my mind in a frenzied flurry to contain my panic.
“I have leverage over you, Daughter. Perhaps we could…negotiate.”
There was nothing more she had to say. I felt her spite in the air, the cold determination. As her pitiless, bronze eyes flicked to Rowan behind me, then into the crowd to where I could only assume Grayson and Cyrus stood, I realized how much she would enjoy ripping my life apart. She would relish destroying me, one person at a time.
<
br /> She’d start with Rowan. My demon half knew it without a doubt. Because she could start right now, and retaliate against my defiance of her wishes. Immediately. While I watched, and could do nothing to stop it.
Would she strike down her own advisor trying to force my allegiance? No, she didn’t know I cared about Grayson and Cyrus. She didn’t know they were anything more than my guards under her order.
Next, it would be Dad.
Then Benn. She’d save Benn for last. Somehow, she would know.
“What do you want from me?” I bit out, struggling with each word as the malevolence in her stare, in the waves in the air, filled me with panic.
She didn’t answer with anything but a narrowing of her eyes, as if she thought I was being stupid. That was when I understood what she wanted.
“All right,” I frowned, swallowing a sour taste in my mouth as I called her, “Mother. I will submit to the Blooding.”
Savannah, no!
The desperate telepath was from a good distance behind me, but I couldn’t pay him attention. I shut Grayson out, built thicker and thicker frosted walls around my opaque cages, mentally pushed against the Tempter. There was more he was trying to tell me, but I heard no more of his thoughts.
And now Iliana knew there was something between Grayson and me, more than just sentry and Scion.
“I will be Blooded, and let you see what a half-caste Scion might be capable of. Under some conditions.”
The triumphant curl of her lips made my muscles twitch. “Anything, Daughter. Having you rule by my side would please me so.”
But I heard the truths behind her lies. Study me. Learn from me. Use me in whatever way she could. And after she sated her curiosity, discard me.
She would give me what I asked, but only within reason. She had the power to deny anything. She had the power to serve me and everyone I cared about on a golden platter to her followers who felt betrayed by her omission of my existence. I had to choose my requests carefully.
Most important thing first, I thought, lifting my chin to meet my mother’s bronze eyes.
“Even though I’m a half-caste, if I’m Scion, I can Mark humans?”
Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) Page 23