A Promise of Fire

by Amanda Bouchet

  The family stares at me, speechless. Even Griffin looks surprised.

  The colors fade as I saunter back to the table, wondering how long it takes Desma to stop glowing after her dance now that I’m not there to absorb her magic.

  “Well,” Nerissa says, “I’m impressed.”

  Anatole starts clapping, grinning from ear to ear, and everyone launches into applause. Griffin’s eyes never leave my face, his expression a little too warm for my peace of mind.

  My cheeks heat as I drop back into the seat next to him. “Did you think I spent eight years at the circus and didn’t learn how to perform?”

  His wide mouth curves into a smile that does alarming things to my insides.

  Egeria looks thrilled. “With your abilities, you’ll certainly be a valued ally.”

  My eyebrows creep up. “Is that what I am?” It keeps changing. Captive. Beta Team. Guest. Ally.

  Egeria seems surprised, too. “What else would you be?”

  “A prisoner.”

  “No! You mustn’t think that!”

  I turn to Griffin. “So I’m free? I can leave whenever I want?”

  His shoulders stiffen. His jaw hardens.

  His silence is answer enough. I turn back to Egeria. She’s Alpha, after all. “I’d like to return to my room now.”

  She frowns. “But you haven’t finished. And there’s still dessert.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality.” I rise, dip into a curtsy, and leave without permission.

  I may know how to perform, but I also know how to make an exit.

  CHAPTER 17

  All that fire made me sweat. The women’s bathhouse is small, half the size of the royal one, but the water is clean, and it’s late enough to be mostly empty. Three women occupy the far end, but the rest of the pool is deserted. I slip into the water, wash quickly, and then wrap myself in my outrageously flamboyant drying cloth. I’d stay longer, but the Sintan women keep throwing me dirty looks.

  As I’m tying off the end of my braid, the women emerge from the pool and pad toward me, naked.

  “Nice cloth,” a tall blonde says.

  I ignore her. Ignoring her sarcasm is harder.

  “You’re the new member of Beta Team?” another one asks.

  When I nod, she looks incredulous. “How did you get invited to dinner?”

  Before I can answer—or not answer—the first one spits out, “She’s obviously spreading her legs.”

  I narrow my eyes. Snarky gets my temper up.

  One of the other women lays her hand on the blonde’s arm. “Griffin will get tired of her. You’ll see.”

  A thorny sensation spreads through me. I study the woman with chiseled features, legs about eight inches longer than mine, and long, sleek hair the color of honey in the sun. My hair is unruly, wavy, and dark, and I’m smaller and curvier despite the weight I’ve lost since leaving the circus. Like mine, her eyes are green, but the shades are nothing alike. Hers are dark with flecks of brown. Mine are elongated, and the light, clear green of magic and the north. I hate that I’m even comparing us, but since I can’t seem to stop… In spite of my unusual eyes and decent looks, I just feel short.

  I turn to leave, consoling myself with the knowledge that I can kill her with one breath.

  She stops me with a question. “What’s your name?”

  I only half turn back. “Cat. What’s yours?”

  “Daphne. Watch your back, Cat.”

  “Why?” I’m actually curious.

  “Because I’ve got my eye on you.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh. “I’ll let you know when I’m scared.”

  Her eyes flash with anger a second before she lashes out. I duck on reflex, and her punch sails over my head. I come up, landing an uppercut to her gut. She grunts, her exhale warming my face. I would keep going, but the other women grab the blonde’s arms, and I don’t hit people who are tied down.

  “Watch your back, Daphne.” I trace a finger down her cheek, leaving a thin red welt from the corner of her left eye to the curve of her chin. I rein in the hottest part of the Chimera’s Fire so it won’t scar, but when I smile, I don’t hold back on the maniacal. “I just love the way burns sting for days.”

  The other two women pale, but Daphne just looks spitting mad. My first enemy in Castle Sinta. Great.

  “Griffin will punish you for that.”

  She sounds so sure that something sour unfurls in my stomach. “No, he won’t.” I am the Kingmaker. I am a thousand times more important to him than Daphne, even if I’m not spreading my legs. Clearly, that’s her job.

  I refuse to think about that, or how awful it makes me feel, as I make my way across the Athena courtyard toward the barracks. Kato and Flynn show up as soon as they hear me moving around in my room.

  “How was dinner?” Kato asks.

  “Enlightening.”

  He grins. “Did you like the family?”

  I shrug, not willing to admit I found them entertaining. “I can’t believe how old Anatole is.”

  Flynn shuts the door with his boot. He’s wearing a new tunic, and his auburn hair is combed for once and neatly tied back, showing off the clean lines of his broad cheekbones and freshly shaved jaw. “Old but sharp. He unified most of the southwest before passing the reins to Griffin.”

  And Griffin took over Sinta. Not bad. “How have the girls stayed so innocent? Even Egeria, and she’s not exactly young.”

  Kato flops across my bed, linking his hands behind his head. The casual position stretches his tunic across his chest and over his biceps. I can’t help noticing. I’m not interested, but I still have eyes. “They’ve been sheltered by all of us,” he says. “Maybe too much.”

  His affectionate, brotherly tone sends an immediate spike of envy through me. Gods! I’m the most irrational person ever! “Can they handle being royals?”

  Kato’s mouth pulls into a frown. “They expect the best from others. They won’t believe people are out to use them now, or harm them. They think everyone is a potential friend.”

  I shake my head. “Not for long.”

  Flynn looks stricken. “I hate to see them disillusioned.”

  Oddly enough, me too. “Griffin did this. The girls could have been happy, high-ranking tribal daughters, comfortable and secure in a place they understood. Everything is different now.”

  “But you’ll help them, won’t you, Cat?” Flynn asks, his brown eyes wide and pleading.

  Damn it. I really am the new nursemaid. “What makes you think I can do anything?”

  He spreads his hands wide. “You know everything.”

  I grin and flip my damp braid over my shoulder. “I do, don’t I?”

  Kato’s cobalt eyes flash with humor. “Saucy and bossy.” He chuckles, somehow making two insults sound like a compliment.

  I like hearing the deep rumble of their voices, so I don’t kick them out for a while even though I’m exhausted and looking forward to sleeping in a real bed. Eventually alone—and not liking it one bit—I fall into the arms of Morpheus, one God who’s rarely kind to me.

  Needles burn deep into my skin, a stabbing pain in the night. Sudden. Searing. I shoot upright, keening into the dark.

  Can’t see! Where is he?

  My shoulder brushes something. I whirl and hit it.

  The impact wakes me up, and I howl, clutching the fist I just drove into the wall. The next thing I know, Kato and Flynn burst through the door along with a flicker of torchlight from the corridor.

  Flynn tackles me, pinning me to the bed. “It’s all right. It’s just us.” His voice is a soothing monotone. “You’re not there.”

  I gulp down a scream. I can’t breathe. I’m not used to this anymore. It’s even worse when I’m not used to it!

  “Shhh.” Kato drops to his knees next
to my bed and pats my hair. His hand is so big it covers most of my head.

  I try, but I can’t calm down. I keep feeling that final attack, seeing the end I chose. It unfolds over and over again in my head, and the worst part is, even if I could change the outcome now, I don’t think I would.

  The second he stops burning me to draw more power from the Ice Plains, I slip the blade from under my pillow and plunge it into his throat. I don’t hesitate. He’s had too many second chances already.

  I’m faster, even though he’s bigger and stronger. His eyes shoot wide as he collapses on me, gurgling. I push him back with a muffled scream, instinct making me shove him right off the bed. He crumples, twitching, not quite limp.

  Pounding starts on my door. Fighting nausea, I swing my legs around to sit on the edge of the mattress, my blistered fingers digging into the sheets. I don’t feel much pain. I’m numb despite the burns, watching a boy only a little older than I am bleed to death on my bedroom floor.

  Our eyes meet, and I consider giving the blade a vicious twist, knowing he would do it to me.

  With this, I hesitate. I hesitate so long he dies.

  Aching, shaking, I lie back on the bloody bedding, waiting for Thanos to break down the door my brother barred and help me clean up the mess.

  Shaking now almost as hard as I did eleven years ago, I glance at my fingers. For a heartbeat, they still look crimson—death on twelve-year-old hands.

  As soon as I can take a breath without choking on it, I shove Flynn off me. Not easy, considering he’s huge. “Taking advantage?”

  Standing up, Flynn grins. “Not interested.”

  The shaky laugh that rattles from me sounds more like a sob. Why didn’t I have brothers like Kato and Flynn? My life would have been so different.

  I sit up, rubbing my face and brushing hair out of my eyes. “Get out of here. Shoo! Before everyone thinks I’m sleeping with you two as well.”

  Flynn frowns, making his forehead wrinkle. His eyes narrow ominously. “What are you talking about?”

  “Apparently, the women soldiers think I made Beta Team in exchange for being Griffin’s personal whore.”

  Both their faces blank with shock, then Kato’s lips draw back in a snarl. “What daughter of a Cyclops said that?” he demands.

  The protective fury in his voice goes a long way toward making me feel better. “I don’t know names,” I lie. I’ll handle Daphne on my own.

  “When you do, you let me know,” he growls fiercely.

  “So you can do what?” He’s not the type for cold-blooded murder. Despite Mother’s calculated efforts, even I’m not the type for cold-blooded murder.

  Kato scowls, his blue eyes shadowed and hard. “I don’t know. Something.”

  I laugh, the sound chasing away the past.

  “I know,” Flynn says, pounding his right fist into his left palm and looking very mean.

  I roll my eyes. I don’t believe for a second either of them would beat up a woman over a few insults. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I killed a Dragon, remember?”

  “Cerberus killed the Dragon,” Flynn corrects.

  “But I had Cerberus. It’s all the same in the end.”

  He shakes his head, his auburn hair loose and wild again. “You’re comparing grapes and olives. Sometimes they look alike, but they’re really not.”

  I snort. “Thank you, O Wise One. I’m anxiously awaiting your next lesson.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” Flynn ruffles my hair. “Sleep better now.”

  Kato pats my head.

  “I’m not a bloody dog!” I mutter, slapping at his hands.

  After they’re gone, I light a lamp in my windowless room and stare at the shadows flickering on the wall, not willing to close my eyes again.

  * * *

  I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with myself the next morning, but I’m bored and hungry, so I head for the refectory as soon as I hear the barracks stirring, looking around for Kato and Flynn. They wave me over, and I sit with them, a plate of fruit and a buttered roll in my hands.

  Kato unfolds a napkin and hands me a spice cake. “Cook likes me,” he says, brushing away the crumbs sticking to his fingers.

  I’ll bet she does. My mouth instantly starts watering. “I love these!”

  Kato grins, making most of the women in the refectory stop talking and sigh. “One every morning for Beta Team,” he says, completely unaware of his effect on the surrounding tables.

  I groan, ignoring the dirty looks coming my way just for being next to him. “I can’t. I won’t fit into my pants.”

  “Those leather ones from the circus?” Flynn chuckles. “Griffin couldn’t take his eyes off your ass.”

  I choke on what’s left of my spice cake, and Flynn pounds me on the back. “What are we doing today?” I croak, my face absurdly hot.

  Kato shrugs, leaning back in his chair. Feminine eyes follow his every move. “Griffin and Carver will be busy going over whatever happened while we were gone, and any messages they received. I doubt we’ll see them.”

  A ridiculous and rather terrifying amount of disappointment pangs through me. Was I really looking forward to seeing a certain warlord turned royal that much?

  “We could set up knife throwing,” Flynn suggests.

  I nod. “The Gods know you two need the practice. And I’m always happiest with a knife in my hand.”

  We finish breakfast in quiet conversation and then agree to meet in front of the Athena statue in one hour. Back in my room, I sort through my meager belongings, putting things away. There’s not much left between all the blood and fire of late. I’m just slipping my knives into my rather charred belt when there’s a tap on the door. I draw a blade before cracking it open.

  Jocasta looks at me and then at my knife. I stick it in my belt, and she extends her arms, holding out an enormous pile of dresses. “Griffin said he promised to take you shopping, but I know he won’t have time. These were in the castle. I think they’re about your size.”

  Surprised by her thoughtfulness, I push the door open wider. “Thank you.”

  “Your room is very small,” she says, stepping inside. “You should live in the castle.”

  “I haven’t been invited,” I lie.

  She glances at me. “I just invited you.”

  It’s not Epsilon Sinta who has the authority to invite people to live in the castle, but she was being kind, and I have good manners when I choose to use them. They were beaten into me. “I’d rather not, but thank you for the offer.”

  She shrugs, the movement slight and naturally graceful. “I’ll ask again. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  Something about the way she says that reminds me of Griffin. Jocasta looks harmless, and she’s more subtle, but I have a feeling she’s as obstinate as her brother.

  “Let’s see what fits,” she says, picking through the dresses.

  I spend the next half hour trying on gowns that were custom-made for royalty. Jocasta gives her honest opinion about each, and I feel uncomfortable, like Eleni is in the room with us, a ghost of companionship that has no place in my life anymore. We end up with four dresses that fit and a few others that simply need shortening. They’re all similar in cut, with deeply scooped necklines, cinched waists, and long, flowing skirts that float around my ankles. Some have geometric patterns bordering the hems or gold cording crisscrossing the front from under the bust to low on the hips. All the dresses are held up by thin gold chains that buckle at the shoulders or behind the neck.

  I look down, swishing my skirts. White and ivory flatter my complexion, but I prefer bold colors, and vanity makes me like this sea-green dress best. It’s a good match for my eyes. The draping is soft and light, flattering my curves. I haven’t been in linen this fine in years, and I can’t tell if my shiver as it tickles my legs is from
pleasure or unease.

  “This one suits you,” Jocasta says, echoing my thoughts. “Wear it tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “For dinner.”

  “I don’t have to dress like this for the refectory.”

  “But you’re dining with us.”

  My stomach dips at the thought of seeing Griffin, especially dressed like this. “Why?”

  She looks at me strangely. “Because we want you to.”

  “Beta Team doesn’t eat with the royals.”

  Jocasta laughs. The sound is light and full of joy. I wonder what my laughter would be like if I’d had a life like hers. “Half of Beta Team is royal. Besides, you’re more than just Beta Team.”

  Whoa. What? “What do you mean?” I keep my voice even and airy. It doesn’t reflect years of wariness.

  Jocasta takes a green ribbon from the pile of accessories on my bed. It matches the gown. “Griffin is ten years older than I am. All my life, I’ve seen women watch him, want him.” She presses the ribbon into my hand. “He looks at you the way they look at him.”

  Adrenaline floods me until it feels like my heart is about to explode.

  “You’re coming to dinner,” she says firmly, her azure eyes steady on mine.

  I shake my head, fighting a rising sense of panic. “It’ll never happen.”

  She gathers discarded gowns, the ones that didn’t fit. “Dinner or Griffin?”

  “Griffin. He’ll get over it.”

  She smiles at me like she pities me. “He’s very persistent.”

  “I’m stubborn.”

  “He’s stubborn.”

  I swallow, thinking I might pity myself a little bit right now, too. “He abducted me. He threatened my friends. He kept me tied to him with a magic rope. I couldn’t even pee by myself. He’s awful.”

  “You’ll get over it.” Jocasta cheerfully throws my own words back at me. “See you at dinner.”

  I gape at her as she leaves. It’s strange not having the last word.