I rounded the counter and studied the ceiling. Rows and rows of hammered tiles, each design the same as the previous. Except one. Two rows from the door and four tiles down, I spotted a variation. Grabbing a plant stand, I hauled it beneath the tile then stood on it while popping the square from the grid. With that done, I reached through the gap and felt around the edges. My fingers brushed the hilt of a sword. No. Several hilts all bundled together. On the opposite side, I located the box I needed. It was made of metal and heavier than a container that size ought to be. Gently, I cradled it in my arms and flipped the catches. The lid swung open, revealing three rows with three vials in each line nestled into a thick velvet lining. One vial, I noticed, had already been drained. I shivered when I touched its cork.
I had a good idea what purpose that particular draught of venom had served.
Lourdes had not been maven long, and her predecessor, her mother Reine, had been poisoned.
Now Lourdes would lose a sibling to the same fate.
Considering her sister Pascale was responsible for their mother’s assassination, there was a certain grim balance to the circles of their lives and the means of their deaths.
When I stared at that empty vial, I recalled the last time I had seen Pascale. Her honey-blonde hair had been streaming behind her. Her father, Ennis, had been stomping his feet and roaring while he chased her down the hall. The memory of her squeal when he caught her rang in my ears.
Learning that innocent child had grown up into a murderer had shocked me.
I won’t say hearing the truth about Pascale’s role in her parents’ deaths eased my conscience, but perhaps in the long run the knowledge she had blood on her hands might help me sleep at night.
But I doubted it.
The Araneidae had ruined me. Their grief should bring me joy. Their losses should salve the savage ache in me. Instead I felt only the cold resolve to see this job through, to at last be free from my past.
I checked the second vial. Milky fluid sloshed a finger’s width from the cork. I lifted it gingerly, shivering, gooseflesh dappling my chest when I slid the icy tube between my breasts for safekeeping.
Please don’t let my corset crack the glass before I reach my room.
After closing the lid with trembling fingers, I replaced the box where I’d found it and fit the tile into its grid. The planter I returned to the dirt-free rectangle where it had stood. After a glance around, I left the shop, locking it behind me. The frost I brushed away had already reformed. Fresh snow covered my footprints. Teeth chattering, I ran toward the only building with lights blazing in the vacant city.
A gust of wind slammed the door open before I reached it. I flinched at the ear-splitting crack of sound. Cold sweat beaded on my clammy skin. I shoved the door closed then darted down the hall to another room. Warm as it was, I was frozen. I paced, rubbing my arms, flexing my fingers and toes.
When at last the pinpricks in my limbs faded, I found a mirror where I straightened my hair and adjusted my dress. I thanked foresight for wearing my hair in a tightly braided tail tonight. Sadly, my skirt fared worse. I untangled the knots and dusted the ribbons clean, but they were damp at the ends.
Wiggling my toes stung their joints. My feet felt carved from ice, and they retained a bluish tint. Tempted as I was to rub them to increase circulation, that defeated the purpose of sacrifice, didn’t it?
Besides, the Maratus had done far worse in their training of me. I would endure this as I endured all else. But first I had to slink back into the dining hall unnoticed in time to grab a drink and pretend to be enjoying the festivities. Be polite. Talk up Maisy, always an easy task, then we’d call it a night.
Please let us last that long…
From where I stood, I heard muffled voices. When they rose on a collective gasp, I assumed the maven had unwrapped what I hoped was her final gift of the evening. While her guests clapped, I let myself inside and joined the round of thunderous applause. What caused the stir, I couldn’t see from my vantage point. Wending through bodies, I made my way toward the front of the room so Armand could spot me and deliver Maisy. That was when I saw her, sitting on a delicate bench pulled before a sleek harpsichord. After running her palm lovingly over the ornate casing, she stood and curtseyed.
The room erupted with the fervent clapping of hands and ardent pleas for just one more song.
My heart swelled at the sight of her until I thought my ribs would crack.
Indecision played across her face until she saw me and waved. Armand noticed me then, and he offered her his arm. She took it with a bright grin, allowing him to escort her to me. Her slender arms went around my waist. The chill of my skin made her shiver, but she held her tongue and squeezed me tighter. I dropped a kiss on top of her head before facing Armand.
“You have something in your hair.” He frowned while extending his hand. “May I?”
I leaned into Maisy so I wouldn’t topple. “Of course.”
He pulled a few strands of my hair and came away with a cobweb stuck to his fingers.
“This time of year the city is rarely used, but the occasion called for celebration.” He dusted his hands. “It appears the hall could have used a better cleaning prior to the event. I hope you won’t hold this against us. The nest is well-kept and your room there is immaculate. Perhaps I could show you?”
Rubbing her eyes, Maisy peered up at him. “That would be nice.”
“Do you know what else is nice?” His low voice turned conspiratorial. “Chocolate. I have it on good authority that we are serving cocoa mousse to our guests tonight.” He pointed to a row of crystal goblets filled with creamy mousse and sprinkled with chocolate shavings.
Maisy’s face softened with longing when she spotted the table laden with rich desserts.
“Nicolette doesn’t let me have sweets,” she said on a sigh.
Armand’s scandalized expression earned him a compassionate pat on his arm from Maisy.
I glowered. “Ever try putting a nine-year-old to bed after she’s inhaled a tray of sweet rolls?”
“I have a brother a few years younger than Maisy.” He grimaced. “I can imagine.”
Hope sparked in her bright eyes. “What if I promised to only eat three spoonfuls?”
Armand waited to see if I caved. Faced with two sets of imploring eyes, what choice did I have?
“All right. Three bites. No more.” I nudged her toward the dessert table. “I will be counting.”
Angling away from Armand, I watched her navigate through the crowd.
“I meant what I said.” He stepped behind me, his breath warm on my neck.
“I’m sure you have more urgent matters to attend to than sorting our sleeping arrangements.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” His lips brushed my ear. “I want your stay to be pleasurable.”
I swatted him away. “A soft pillow and warm blanket are all the pleasures I require.”
“Nights get cold here,” he murmured. “My body heat is yours for the asking.”
I glanced back at him, at those soft lips of his. “You aren’t serious.”
He chuckled. “I could be.”
I studied him for signs he was.
He returned my studious expression.
I broke down first. “Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”
His answer was a sinful curving of his lips.
I shook my head at him.
“There’s Maisy.” I started walking. “We’re going now.”
I left him with flushed cheeks and a grin. My revealing gown had done its job too well. It was meant to entice, but I had baited the wrong male. Or had I? Stealing one last glance at Armand over my shoulder, I caught him staring after me.
“I’m done.” Maisy’s voice sliced through the fog to my brain. “Do you want the rest?”
“No.” A sweet treat was the last thing my roiling stomach needed. “Thank you.”
She scrunched up her face. “Are you feeling all rig
ht?”
“Never better.” I plucked the sticky goblet from her hand and passed it to a male in gold livery. “I think we ought to explore our room. We have an early day tomorrow, and you must be well rested.”
She bit her lip. “Is it very scary down there in the nest?”
I tapped her nose. “The nest is the most beautiful place that you or I will ever live to see.”
Eyes shining, she twirled. “I’ll go fetch our escort.”
As she skipped off in search of the youth, I decided to encourage her skipping all the way to our room. Surely the exercise would burn off some of her extra energy.
If not, I had one long night ahead of me.
It was getting longer all the time as one of the male guests sidled up to me, resting a hand on my hip. I deftly knocked aside his touch. Dark-skinned and blue-eyed, this male was devastatingly handsome and he knew it.
Perhaps that was why I disliked him on sight.
“Nicolette.” He captured my hand and kissed my knuckles. “We have a mutual acquaintance.”
“Oh?” I expected him to drop Armand’s name or pick up where that failed attempt had ended.
When he said nothing, did nothing more than touch his thumb to my pulse, my chest went cold. His utter stillness did it. I had been at this long enough to recognize one of my kind. He was a killer.
“She would like me to remind you of the price of failure.” His smile framed perfect white teeth. He indicated Maisy with his dimpled chin. “Bad things can happen to little girls while their mothers’ backs are turned.” A nod of his head sent a second male striding toward Maisy. For a second, I lost sight of her. His muscular build eclipsed her swirling colors. Then he turned to wink.
She was gone.
I shoved the male beside me and darted toward the place I last saw her. He caught my wrist and spun me into a dance as smoothly as if it were choreographed. What a fool I’d been. Of course it was.
“Where is she?” I snarled.
“Close,” he assured me. “An associate of mine is entertaining her while we chat.”
Eyes darting wildly, I scanned each corner of the room. “If you hurt her—”
He clicked his tongue. “You won’t dare harm me. It would attract too much attention. You think this is frightening?” He leaned in close. “This is a taste of what lies ahead if you fail in your duties.” He cupped my cheek and forced me to meet his gaze. “Her fingers will be the first bones we break.”
I memorized his face. “I will kill you for this.”
“No, you won’t.” He let his mouth hover a breath above mine. “But you’ll want to.”
I refused to be the first to withdraw. “Is that my motivation?”
“If that’s what you need. Use it.” His gaze darted to the right. “Ah. There we are.”
He turned my head a fraction so that I caught a glimpse of Maisy from the corner of my eye.
Before I could knock him aside, he bent to my ear. “In two days, I expect a pyre to be lit.” He let me go. “You choose whose corpse feeds the fire. Pascale or Maisy will do just as well to me. Break your vow, and you force me to fulfill mine.”
With a frigid smile that promised retribution, I assured him, “Two days is plenty of time.”
Maven Colleen would have her satisfaction. Her son’s death would be avenged.
By the time I was finished in Erania, Maisy’s gift to Lourdes would be a requiem.
Chapter Two
Hard knocks on our bedroom door brought my head around as I finished braiding Maisy’s hair. I cinched my robe closed and raked fingers through my frazzled hair before greeting our eager visitor.
“Care for something sweet?” Armand extended a tray of baked goods. “You missed breakfast.”
Small hands tilted the tray downward. Maisy hefted the plumpest sweet roll I had ever seen, thanked him around the first bite then plopped back down in a chair to eat.
Clasping the halves of my robe tighter, I accepted his offering. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“No, I did.” He ruffled his hair into appealing disarray. “I celebrated too hard last night. I should not have said or did the things I, well, said and did. I saw a beautiful female, and the bottles of akash loosened my morals more than they should have.” He grimaced. “Now you’ll think I’m a drunkard.”
“No,” I assured him, closing the door in his face. “I doubt I’ll think of you at all.”
He wedged his foot in the gap. “Was my behavior so unforgivable?”
Yes. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice… Maisy was in no need of a sibling.
“I appreciate the food, and the apology,” I said, “but your sister is expecting Maisy.”
He grasped the door, holding it open. “Allow me to make this up to you.”
The night I was escorted to my parents and presented as a harlot, he had said those same words.
Tired of his charade of gallantry, I cracked the door a fraction wider, aimed my heel at the toe of his boot and brought it down hard. Surprised, he jerked his foot back, and I slammed the door closed.
Ripe curses battered the air, and I grinned. “Be careful where you put your hands next time.”
Maisy giggled between bites. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”
“Males like him are dangerous. They would say or do anything to get their own way.” I set the tray down and snatched the half-eaten roll from her hands. “He thinks he can buy your goodwill with sweets. Despite the fact I said you eat them only in moderation, it was mousse last night and the tray of rolls this morning. Those actions are not the ways to get into my good graces. Speaking of which, no more sugar, all right? The next time Armand brings you a treat, thank him and decline.”
Her forehead bunched in concentration. “What if Maven Lourdes offers me one?”
I polished off Maisy’s sticky breakfast in two bites. “You thank her and ask for fruit instead.”
“Do they have fruit here?” A sparkle lit her eyes. “Or vegetables?”
“If it can be purchased with gold, the Araneidae own it.” I headed toward the foot of my bed and knelt before the large trunk there. Inside, the clothing ran the gamut from subdued to seductive. One constant remained—there was a staggering assortment of colors. After my exile from Erania and my parents’ decision I should join the Maratus, the exotic clan’s vibrancy called to me in a way nothing had in a long time. It was one secret tie to the clan that had accepted me, nurtured me and saved us.
“Was it…?” She hesitated. “Was it bad living here?”
I drew in a deep breath before facing her. “I loved this place. I love it still. It’s the people I don’t trust, and you shouldn’t either. Just remember while you spend the day with Lourdes, she would sink an arrow between my eyes faster than I could blink if she learned the truth about why I came here.”
“Why are we here?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“You are here to compose a song.” I glanced back at the trunk. “That’s all you need to know.”
She gave a reluctant nod. “How long should I distract her?”
“Keep her occupied for as long as possible.” I patted her cheek. “I’ll work as quickly as I can.”
Bracing my hands on the floor, I wondered what sort of mother all this made me. As harshly as I was treated by my parents, was I harsher with Maisy? This was her first time seeing me at work, and she was playing along better than I could have hoped. From birth, she had known what role our clan chose for me. We had never tolerated secrets between us…except of course for the biggest one of all.
Gods be damned. Maisy had a good life, an almost normal life, until my wretched past had reared its ugly head. I came home one night to find my serving girl’s throat slit while my daughter slept in the next room. Three males awaited me, all with swords drawn, and I would have killed them, I should have killed them, except that they offered me a chance to have the revenge I had craved for a decade.
But at what cost? A daughter
for a daughter? Pascale for Maisy? How could I assign more value to one’s life than the other’s? As Maisy’s mother, how could I not choose her?
She was my world. Pascale was a distant echo from a previous life.
Rubbing my eyes, I admitted it was easier blaming revenge as my true motivator. Instead of the stone-cold, paralyzing fear that someone dangerous knew my secrets and had threatened to expose them.
No one knew Maisy was my child outside the Maratus, with the exception of my parents, which meant I had been betrayed. Soon my enemies would learn of her existence, would try to uncover her father’s identity, then use her as a bargaining chip, not realizing he had tossed her aside before her birth.
Granted neither of us had suspected my condition at the time. Not that it would have mattered.
Armand had chosen his family over me, and my family had chosen to wash their hands of me because of it.
“You don’t look well.” Maisy pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “Are you sick? You always warn me not to play outside in the snow without boots and a coat and a hat that covers my ears.”
I took her hand and kissed the top of it. “I say all that?”
“That’s one rule.” She snorted. “You have more of them than Erania has snowflakes.”
“Ouch.” I put a hand to my heart. “I’m wounded.”
“No you aren’t.” She folded her arms. “I stopped falling for that trick when I was five.”
“Well then…” I looped an arm around her waist, hauled her into my arms and flung her onto her bed. I dove after her, going for all her ticklish spots until Maisy was squealing at the top of her lungs.
Gasping, she sat upright. “Did you hear—?”
A Kiss of Venom (An Araneae Nation Novella) Page 2