Alaric smiled again, but this time it was sad. “It's how things work now,” he corrected, “and how they have worked for a very long time.”
I stood rigid, refusing to move. “Define a very long time.”
“For as long as I've been around,” he answered cryptically. “I've known no other way.” He grabbed a lock of my hair and began twirling it around his finger. “And I don't see it changing any time soon.”
“And how long have you been around?” I asked softly, the speed of my breathing making it hard to speak. Maya had claimed that Sivi was several centuries old. That meant that any of the Vaettir might be older than I'd originally guessed.
He leaned in close and whispered, “Long enough.”
I opened my mouth to ask more, but Alaric gently pushed his hand under my chin to shut my jaw. He then used that hand to guide my face up toward him. He kissed me, and with all of the anticipation I had suffered, I was a little shocked.
Alaric took my lack of resistance as an invitation and kissed me hard enough to bruise. I took the opportunity to do something I'd been itching to do since I'd met him, and slid my hands up under his shirt to feel the smooth skin underneath. I had so many unanswered questions, but I couldn't seem to pull myself away long enough to ask them.
Washed away on a wave of anxiety and fear, my palms smoothed over his chest nearly up to his throat. As the kiss intensified, I drew my hands down to either side to caress the bones of his ribcage. Suddenly I slid my hands back out of his shirt and pulled away from the kiss, surprised and embarrassed by my actions.
He placed his hands around my waist and pulled me closer, then kissed a gentle line down my throat, leaving a pleasant, burning sensation in the wake of his kisses.
My thoughts raced, telling me that I shouldn't trust Alaric to touch me, but my doubts were outweighed by the fact that it had been a very long time since I'd been touched. I hadn't been with a man since Matthew. Matthew. The sobering thought stopped me, and I was able to pull away completely.
Alaric let his hands fall from me, and I regretted the loss as soon as it happened. His dark eyes observed me curiously. In his eyes I saw the remnants of the heat from just a moment before, but also some sort of sadness that I didn't understand. The sudden loss of heat left me with only cold memories.
“I killed the last man I was with,” I blurted out, as if it explained everything.
Alaric nodded and raised his hands as if to touch me again. “You will not be able to kill me in the same way.”
“Someone told me that I could still harm the weak of will, even if they are Vaettir,” I countered, crossing my arms and pulling farther away.
Alaric smirked as he let his hands fall back to his sides. “And you believe me weak of will?” he asked playfully.
I turned my nose up at him. “I don't know you well enough to judge,” I answered. “Which is another reason why we shouldn't be doing this.”
Alaric smiled and raised his hands in an I give up gesture. “In that case, I will have to leave the next move to you.”
Despite his statement, he stepped close to me so that his chest touched my crossed arms.
“I'm tired,” I lied, stepping away from his touch once again, and feeling instant regret just as I had before. Hadn't I been wanting him to kiss me again? I chastised myself for ever giving in to that fantasy. I barely knew him. He had been kind and protective, if a bit of a pain in the ass, but he was also one of the people holding me captive, even if I was now mostly willing.
Alaric nodded again and turned to leave. He looked back and reached out a hand like he might say something, then let it drop. He left the room without another word.
I regretted everything as soon as the door was shut. I regretted the kiss, and I regretted ending it. Being alone with only memories was a terrible thing, even if it was the thing that I was used to.
If I'd known what I was sooner, Matthew wouldn't have died. If I'd been raised among the Vaettir from the start, maybe I'd have had some idea on how to live my life. Maybe I'd actually know how to have a normal romance with someone. My ifs were more torturous than James or any of the other Vaettir could ever be.
Even as I half-wished that Alaric would come back, Maya's words still rung clearly in my mind. I didn't fully trust her, but she'd given me enough doubt that I didn't trust anyone else either.
I couldn't trust Alaric with my heart, just as I couldn't place my fate in Estus' hands. There was nothing I could do about Alaric, so I'd focus on Estus. If I could find what he was looking for without him or Alaric knowing, then I would have the upper hand. It was time to stop being such a willing prisoner.
I crawled into bed fully clothed, though I knew sleep was unlikely. The large, four-poster bed and burgundy bedspread still felt foreign to me, and I found myself missing my little house and my small bed. I'd been gone from them for around a week, though I'd lost track of the exact days. Sadly, it wasn't likely that anyone back home had even noticed I was missing.
I sighed and thought about the kiss, trying to convince myself that I was right to end it. Yet even with my rational thoughts laid before me, my conclusion marked me as a total idiot.
Chapter Nine
I awoke, surprised that I'd managed to fall asleep in the first place. I was even more surprised by the fact that someone was crouched over me in my bed. At first I thought maybe Alaric had come back, but the form was far too small to be him.
I lunged at whomever was above me, but they dove easily out of the way. My room slowly lit up, as it had done every morning since I'd arrived in the Salr. No one had yet managed to explain to me how the Salr lit itself, and it gave me the creeps whenever the lighting changed.
Sivi crouched beside me, eyeing me like a pale bird of prey. The light shining through the curtain of her hair made me realize that it wasn't actually white, it was translucent. Her strands of hair looked like impossibly thin lengths of fishing line. Her violet eyes stood out in the paleness of her skin like amethysts.
“Time is up little one,” she whispered. “Will you stay or go.”
I crept backward out of bed to put some distance between us. “I haven't decided yet.”
“Well I might not want to help you later,” she taunted from her perch on my bed.
“And why do you want to help me now?” I asked. “Why is it so important to have me out of the way?”
“You ungrateful little wretch,” she hissed. “I've seen countless executioners die one after another. What makes you think you're so special?”
“Well,” I replied, “you sneaking into my bedroom for a private conversation was my first hint. Like you said, you've seen countless executioners die. Why would you finally choose to help one?”
She smiled ruefully. “If only you knew the creatures you've chosen to align yourself with. In time you'll wish you had taken my offer, but it will be too late.”
“I haven't aligned myself with anyone,” I explained calmly.
She crawled off my bed with snake-like grace and went for the door. With her hand on the knob, she stopped to regard me one last time. “It will be interesting to see which one of them kills you, once they get what they want. I'd like to see your face in that final moment of betrayal.”
The slamming of the door made me jump. As soon as I was sure she wasn't coming back, I hurried to my dresser to get a change of clothes, shaking my head at the surreal encounter. Estus expected me to look for the charm today. I'd look for it alright, though I hadn't yet decided what I'd do when I found it.
He obviously knew that someone of my talents was needed to find it, but he didn't know as much as Maya. If he did, he would have sent me straight to the corpses of the alleged traitors. No, he thought I'd somehow be able to see the charm where others could not. That thinking was probably what had gotten the last executioner killed.
I picked out an outfit to suit my mood: black jeans, black silk top, and low-heeled black boots that went up to my knees. That morning I was beyond caring how b
lack looked with my coloring. Clothes in hand, I ventured out into the hallway toward the bathroom. If I was lucky, no one would get in my way. Unfortunately, I'm rarely lucky.
“I don't get it,” James said as he reached an arm in front of me to block my way.
He had been waiting in the hall, still in his clothes from the previous day, letting me in on the fact that he was yet to get any sleep.
I tried to push past his arm, but didn't have much success. “Don't get what?” I huffed, giving up on forcing my way through.
“I don't get why Estus is so fixated on you, and I really don't get why Sivi was in your bedroom a few minutes ago. I think I might have to dedicate a bit more time to finding out what's so special about you.”
I took a step back, but he instantly closed the gap. Instead of stepping back again, I met his eyes with a glare. “Is that a threat?”
He smiled, and I was reminded of the first time I'd met him. He'd seemed so charming at the time . . . that was until he threw me over his shoulder and lugged me back to Sophie. Sophie had improved since that night. James had not.
“Is my attention such a frightening thing?” he asked playfully, putting an arm on either side of me, trapping me against the wall.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. I dropped down out of the circle of his arms and wiggled my way to freedom.
I backed away from him toward the bathroom, even though I knew he wouldn't let me go so easily. He matched me step for step until he had me pressed against the bathroom door instead of the wall. This time he put his whole body into trapping me. He wasn't as tall as Alaric, and being tall myself, I could nearly meet his eyes directly. I tried to remain calm in front of his icy blue eyes, but it was hard to keep my panic down below the surface.
“Get away from her,” a voice said from behind James.
I peeked around James' broad shoulders to see Alaric walking down the hallway toward us. He'd changed into clothes more casual than what he'd worn the night before, but the entire outfit was still black. James looked back at him, giving me a small amount of room to maneuver. Repeating to myself, I'm not a cream puff, I'm not a cream puff, I took a breath and drove my knee up into his groin.
James grunted in surprise and backed up a step as he hunched over. As soon as he turned his face up to me again, I punched him with every ounce of oomph I could muster. The punch didn't rock him back much, but the satisfying crunch I felt told me that maybe I'd broken, or at least damaged, his nose.
“I'm not your plaything,” I said calmly as blood dribbled down his shocked face. “Don't ever touch me again.”
I opened the bathroom door and went inside. Before I shut it, I noticed Alaric as he held up a hand in front of his face to hide his silent laughter. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, and then I was blissfully alone in the bathroom. I quickly slid the lock into place before I took a second to catch my breath.
I would have preferred a quick shower, but the bathroom only had a claw-foot tub that took a painful amount of time to fill. Still not willing to forgo bathing, I turned on the water and stripped down. I half-expected James to start pounding on the door, but the hall outside was silent.
I washed myself quickly and got dressed, the whole time nervous that someone would interrupt me. Fully clothed, I was finally able to breathe easy as I went for the door.
Alaric stood leaning against the wall directly outside of the bathroom. “About time,” he said. “You're not the only one who takes baths around here.”
I smirked. “I'm sure there are other bathrooms.”
He grinned as he walked in and I walked out. “But I like this one.”
“You were protecting me,” I teased, turning back to look at him. “I think I proved that I can handle James on my own.”
“You proved that you're dumb enough to piss off the world's biggest bully,” he countered, “and I was not protecting you. I was simply waiting to take a bath. Speaking of, if you for some reason didn't get clean enough, you're welcome to hop back in with me.”
I smiled sweetly. “Let me get my coffee, then I'll get back to you with a clever retort.”
I turned to saunter away, trying very hard to keep my mind off of the idea of Alaric in the bathtub. It didn't work, and I simply had to be grateful for the fact that no one could see me blush as I thought of Alaric all wet and gleaming in the bath.
I could feel him watching me as I walked, and it took a great deal of self control to not simply scurry to the nearest hallway where I'd be out of sight. Finally, I heard the bathroom door shut and I picked up my pace, eager to get on with my search. I'd need some food first, and I'd definitely need some coffee.
I had a well-thought idea of where I'd look first, but there were drawbacks to my plan. I stood a good chance of running into James again if I went there, and he probably wasn't happy about his nose. James frequented the two interrogation rooms of the Salr a little more often than was necessary, but they were the most likely place to find pieces of traitors past.
There were only two torture rooms that I needed to check. If there were more than the two rooms, I didn't know about them. It was in one of those rooms that Estus had led me to release the spirit of the previous executioner.
When I had been in the room previously, I had noticed nothing but blood and a living hand, but Estus pulled a drawer right out of the stone wall to reveal the executioner’s heart. Now that I needed to find the remains of others, it seemed a good place to start.
Maya had said that the bodies of other traitors were somewhere in the Salr, but perhaps Estus only kept the hearts, and that was why I hadn't seen any corpses lying around. There could be countless living hearts within the walls of that room. It was worth a shot to check it out, at the very least.
I reached the kitchen to find it already occupied by three of the Vaettir that usually avoided me, sitting at the counter together drinking coffee. They watched me silently as I poured myself a cup from the industrial sized coffee maker. I turned my back to them, but could feel their eyes following me as I went to the large pantry to find some bread to make toast. I couldn't help feeling that they were just waiting for me to slip up like the last executioner, but maybe that was just my own fear speaking.
When I emerged from the pantry, bread in hand, they all quickly averted their eyes and pretended like I wasn't even there. I put the bread into the toaster and slammed the handle down loudly, looking pointedly at their turned backs.
The oldest looking of the three cleared his throat, and they all stood to file silently out of the kitchen. I shook my head as I waited for the toast to pop up, and just took it dry when it did, wanting to get out of the kitchen before anyone else showed up.
I quickly ate my toast as I walked down the hall, nearly choking on its dryness, then burning my throat when I tried to wash it down with the too-hot, black coffee. By the time I reached the first interrogation room my toast was gone and I only had a half-cup of cooling coffee left to sooth my scratched and burned throat.
I took a deep breath, then reached for the doorknob and turned it. I had nothing but horrifying memories of the room, and wasn't looking forward to seeing the blood-stained walls once again. I pushed on the heavy door and it opened slowly with a long creak, just like a door out of a horror movie.
“What are you doing?” someone asked from behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, then turned to see that Sophie had come around the corner, catching me as I took my first step into the room. I'd been so intent on not getting caught by someone inside the room, that I'd completely ignored the possibility of someone walking behind me.
Cursing my hesitation at going into the bloody room in the first place, I turned to fully face her. “I think I lost . . . a bracelet,” I lied.
“I picked out all of your clothing,” she snapped, instantly sensing my mistruth. “You haven't had a bracelet since you came to us. Now tell me what you're doing.”
I crossed my arms and stayed in the doorway. “Why do you c
are?” I asked sharply, irritated that she was snapping at me for no good reason.
She crossed her arms across her chest to mirror me, completely ignoring my anger. “Why has Sivi been lurking around your room?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I lied as I stepped back out of the room and closed the door.
I wasn't going to be able to look with Sophie around, so there was no reason to stay in the morbid room any longer than I had to.
Sophie narrowed her eyes at me for a moment, then brushed past me to walk down the hall. For a fleeting second I thought that I was off the hook, but then she snapped, “Come with me,” as she continued walking.
I followed her tall, black-clad form down so many twists and turns in the hall that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to remember my way back. Finally she went into a room and left the door open behind her for me to follow.
The room inside was done in deep grays and other neutrals, though rather than being bland, it was cozy. There was a large bed similar to the four-poster in my room, only it didn't have a canopy. I personally liked the canopy-less bed better. The canopy made me feel like a little girl playing princess.
As soon as I stepped inside, Sophie turned on me, flipping her hair behind her shoulder in irritation. “Shut the door.”
Sophie's fangs were peeking out, and I could tell something or someone had her riled. Her nervous energy elicited goosebumps on my arms. I debated trying to bolt before she unleashed her temper on me again, but so far Sophie had seemed to genuinely be on my side, and I didn't want to lose that just yet. I shut the door.
Now that we were alone, I expected Sophie to start talking, but instead she just stood with her arms crossed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. It was only then that I noticed that she was still in her clothes from the previous day, just like James. It was hard to tell with Sophie since she basically wore black all of the time.
She bit her lip as if she wanted to say something, but was holding back. “I don't know who else to talk to,” she finally blurted out, her anger melting away like a poorly done disguise.
Bitter Ashes (Bitter Ashes Book 1) Page 10