by Melissa Marr
This time, though, Nyx paused. “He’s selling mortals. It upsets Evvie, and she’s behaving foolishly. He’s moving drugs that are causing you complications. If I kill him, she’ll be happier; your employer will have resolved a drug flow. I can always use a snack. Where’s the downside?”
Then she sashayed across the room and into Brennan’s bedroom, humming softly. She left the door wide open, so they could see her when she stopped beside a massive glass-block pedestal bed. With a wicked grin, she watched Cillian as she lifted one side of her skirt. He couldn’t look away—or stop the sound of shock. Her legs were not those of a human: they were muscular and furred like an animal’s legs.
“Told you that you didn’t want all of those questions answered, Cillian,” she said as she pulled out her hairpins. Her hair was writhing around her shoulders like angry serpents.
He took a step backward.
Eavan reached out and squeezed his hand. “We should look for his files.”
Brennan stirred as Nyx straddled him. The sheet was only partially covering him; his upper body was bare. His hands were under the pillow beneath his head.
“Wake up, Mr. Brennan.” Nyx sounded cheerful. “We have to chat.”
“Who—”
“Shhh.” Nyx put a finger over his mouth. “My dears, perhaps you could close the door before you go looking for whatever documents you needed? Daniel and I need some privacy, don’t we, dear?”
Cillian didn’t speak as Eavan pulled the door shut, closing in the two predators. He wasn’t sure which of them was worse. Good and evil weren’t always clearly delineated. Nyx intended to kill Daniel Brennan; Brennan drugged and sold people. Is it monstrous to kill a monster? Is Nyx evil? He wished, briefly, that his childhood catechism held up under such questions. It didn’t. Moral relativity made clear that black-and-white questions weren’t realistic in the world Cillian saw.
The world these people…creatures…all see, too.
“Come on, Cillian,” Eavan said gently. “It’s easier if you don’t think about it.”
“For whom?”
“For all of us.” She gave him a rueful smile. “That’s my family. My blood. And she’s about to kill him.”
“Is that all?” He hated that he wanted to know, but he did. He’d involved himself in the business affairs of Nyx and her family—not just because of the C.D.A., but also because he felt the stirring of interest in Eavan. That interest didn’t die when she’d told him that she wasn’t altogether human. He’d been pretty certain of that long before she’d kissed him. “What will she—”
“Don’t ask me that right now.” Eavan opened a door and peered inside. Fitness equipment filled the room. She walked to another door and opened it. “Here we are.”
“And her legs?” He had to ask now while he still could. “I mean, your legs aren’t…I’ve felt…” He looked at her bare ankles and toned calves. “You’re not like that.”
She didn’t flinch. “I’m still mostly human. I told you that there were things I had to do in order to be like the rest of my family.”
“Sex and…”
“Murder.” Eavan looked at the closed door. “Preferably at the same time.”
“And last night when we…were you going to kill me?” His heartbeat felt too fast, but he wasn’t sure it was entirely from fear.
“I don’t know.” Her tongue darted out to trace her lips. She looked straight at him and said, “I thought about it for a moment.”
“And Brennan?”
She stared at him still, a challenge plain in her expression. “Yes, I wanted to kill him.”
Cillian felt a strange—unhealthy—stab of jealousy. “And…”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “I’ve never done either one. I can’t do both, so I do neither. I want to stay human.”
Cillian wasn’t sure what to say, other than, “Let’s start searching…If you see anything that could be business, set it aside.”
She nodded, and they searched in silence.
11
Nyx screamed, but not in pleasure.
Eavan was out of the office before Cillian realized she’d moved. He followed her, not as fast as she moved but only a few steps behind her.
When he crossed the threshold of Brennan’s room and saw Nyx, he was horrified. Brennan had her bound with thick chains. White powder was all over her face, giving her lips a chalky appearance. She was unconscious. There were gashes in both of her arms and one high up on her thigh. Blood poured from those cuts into paint basins under each arm.
“Eve!” Brennan was blood-covered, naked, and far too happy. “I had no idea you would bring me such a present. Glaistig blood is ridiculously expensive in the open market, and for whatever reason, they’re averse to my presence so I can’t lure them in for love nor money.”
“Get Nyx,” was all Eavan said, and then she was on Brennan like a crazed person.
Brennan pushed her back like she weighed nothing and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned forward and bit him, grabbing his earlobe in her mouth.
He laughed joyously. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
Cillian unwound the chains from Nyx and looked up at Eavan. “She’s breathing.”
“Go,” Eavan said. She was held in an unwilling embrace by Brennan. “Bind her wounds in the car. Get her out of here before she’s too weakened.”
Cillian couldn’t stand the idea of leaving Eavan behind. “But—”
“Please?” she asked Cillian before turning her attention to Brennan and adding, “Let them leave, and I’ll stop fighting.”
Brennan kissed her. “Better yet, how about I let them go, and you keep fighting? I don’t like my zombie girls; I just like the money I make selling them.”
“Done.” She looked over at Cillian again. “Get her home. Now. Tell Chloe to call Muriel.”
Cillian lifted Nyx into his arms, but he hesitated. How do I leave her here? Eavan caught his gaze and asked, “Please? She’s…she needs help. If she dies…please?”
Brennan picked up a knife and held it against Eavan’s throat.
She didn’t move.
“Listen to Eve, or I’ll bleed her out.” Brennan drew a heart on Eavan’s throat with the tip of the knife. “If you go, Eve gets a fair chance at fighting.”
Eavan stood meekly as blood trickled slowly down her skin and vanished into her shirt. “Please, Cillian? I need Nyx safe.”
Eavan watched Cillian carry her grandmother out. Daniel held her still. She could feel how happy he was to be entangled with her. He nuzzled her bleeding throat and murmured, “Did you really think I didn’t know what you were, Eve?”
“How?”
“I drink glaistig blood. I mix it in my drugs. I knew who and what you were the moment you crossed my path. A virgin glaistig. Do you know what you’re worth on the market, lovely Eve?” He licked her throat. “I don’t want to share you though. Not now, and definitely not once your hooves are here.”
She didn’t speak. The words she had screaming in her head weren’t words to share with mortals.
“Tell me yes.” He traced the contours of her body. “Better yet, tell me no.”
“Why?”
He kissed her, and she couldn’t deny how easily her body responded. It wasn’t the mind-blowing reaction she had to Cillian, but it was a reaction. But he hurt Nyx. If he hadn’t done that, if he’d have been honest with her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist.
“We could skip this whole messy business. Save me having to kill your lovely family…” He loosened his grip. “We could keep playing our games, but you’ll be stronger.” He got more excited as he spoke, rubbing against her. “It’ll be fun.”
He unbuttoned her blouse. “You can’t run.” He traced down her sternum with bloody fingers. “That’s what I said to your grandmother. A little glaistig blood, powder, and magic, and she was helpless. Just like you…I have your kind’s blood in me. Just like glaistigs, when I speak, you have to obey…”
/> He kissed her and laid her back on his bed. “Lose the skirt…and the gun, Eve.”
Over the years, Eavan had felt herself forced under Nyx’s will; she’d watched Nyx and the rest of the clan bend mortals to their wishes. No one but Nyx was strong enough to force her to obey. Daniel shouldn’t be, either.
He was though.
“Thought you didn’t like them mindless?” Eavan ran her thumb along her bellyband holster. Would death by bullet, not by my actual hand, still mean changing? She wasn’t sure.
“I don’t. Once you lose the gun, I’ll gladly give you control.” His eyes darkened at the thought. “You want me; don’t you, Eve? You wanted me the night we met. Tell me the truth.”
“I did,” she admitted.
“The skirt.” He sat up, so she could remove it. “But keep the panties.”
“Why?” She lifted her hips and slipped the skirt off. Then she loosened the holster, pulling it apart at the fastenings as slowly as she could. Years of resisting Nyx had helped her to learn the tricks of disobeying glaistig control. It was about finding the loophole that allowed disobedience.
“I want you to make the choice.” He shivered as he said it.
She slid the gun out of the holster. “I am. I’m still mortal, Daniel…with immunity to all but a matriarch’s control. I couldn’t have survived my family if I wasn’t immune. No unturned glaistig could.”
But she still let him take the gun from her hand.
“Lucky me”—Daniel licked Nyx’s blood from his forearm—“I have matriarchal blood right here.”
“You know what glaistigs do? I’m going to kill you. Is that what you want?”
“You’d have shot me before if you were going to kill me.” Daniel rolled her on top of him. “You can’t kill me, Eve. That’s the last order I’ll give you. You have your will but for this: as long as I’m breathing, you can’t ever kill me.”
And with that, she had possession of her will. He’d given her complete control, save for murdering him. He knew enough about what she was to say the words that could make her safe. He forbade her, and she had to obey. Could Nyx have done that? If Nyx had ordered Eavan not to murder anyone, she would be free to stay human, free to have sex and live like a normal person. She wanted to weep at how basic it could be.
“As long as you’re breathing,” she repeated. As she turned the words over in her mind, she saw the flaw. She sealed her lips to his and breathed in. Her hands tightened around his throat.
He clawed at her hands, but an instinct centuries in the making held her. He was her first, but her body knew how things were to be. She drew his life into her mouth, sucking his dreams and fears into her lungs, holding him to her with hair that was extending from her in the same serpentine tendrils she’d once thought were beautiful on Nyx.
She did what Nyx could not, what her matriarch had failed to do, what she’d never wanted to do. Then she dropped Daniel to the floor.
“I’ve worked for years to not kill anyone. I’ve lived like a virgin. I’ve done everything I could to avoid this moment.”
As she stepped over him, she could still see her feet, her normal human toes, her pedicure. She didn’t have hooves. Yet.
12
Eavan was blood-covered when she walked into her house. Cillian didn’t bother asking if Brennan was alive. He couldn’t help glancing at her legs, though. Are they going to change? He wasn’t sure if such a change was immediate or not.
“Nyx?” she asked.
“Sleeping now. Muriel is with her. She says everything will be fine.” He didn’t know if he should reach out or what to do. If Eavan had been human, he’d have offered a shoulder to lean on; if she was a friend, he’d have offered an embrace. She was something else, so he settled for words: “Are you going to be all right?”
Eavan nodded. She dropped a stack of files on the table. “I didn’t know what you needed, so I brought these.”
He came to stand beside her. “Do you need anything?”
“A shower.” She looked lost, but resolute. “I’m a mess.”
He forgot his misgivings, his professionalism, and his common sense. He wrapped his arms around her and held on to her. She didn’t resist, but she didn’t crumble into sobs, either. For a moment, she stayed stiff, and then she relaxed into his embrace. Drying blood, some of it hers, streaked her skin. Traces of tears on her face made it apparent that she had cried, just not where there were witnesses.
“You should run, Cillian,” she whispered. “Being around us is unsafe.”
“I’m not going anywhere yet.” He wasn’t sure where he’d be or when he was going, but until his supervisors assessed the files she’d brought, he was untethered. “My assignment was to come to Raleigh. Until I get new orders, I’m here.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to be around monsters.” She didn’t move away from him as she spoke. “Nyx won’t force you to stay, and Daniel isn’t around to investigate.”
“He’s gone?” Cillian hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but they did need to deal with it. “If he’s dead, I’ll call it in, and the C.D.A. will clean it up.”
She nodded. “He’s dead.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You—”
“Hunted him. Brought Nyx there. Left her in a room with him.” She made a bitter sound and stepped away. “No, it’s not my fault at all.”
She walked past him, ignoring the rest of her family and heading into the room where Muriel and Nyx were. She stopped in the doorway and bowed her head. “Forgive me, Grandmama.”
Cillian watched for a minute, and then he took the files with him into the sitting room to call the office. “I’ll be staying in Raleigh for a while,” he said when his supervisor answered. “I need a cleanup and containment though.” He filled them in, and then sat down in the gaudy room and started to read. There was plenty to do in Raleigh.
Eavan stood in the doorway and looked down at her matriarch. She’d always been imperious, seemingly invincible, and terrifying. Seeing her weakened was heartbreaking to Eavan. Why was she weakened by him? Why couldn’t Nyx kill him? Eavan realized that she had done what her matriarch could not. It wasn’t a comforting feeling to be the better monster when Nyx was the competition.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Later there would be time for questions; later there would be room to think about the unpleasant truth that she was going to need to make peace with being a part of her clan. Right now, all that mattered was that her family was unbroken. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be a fool, Eavan. You didn’t injure me.” Nyx opened her eyes. “Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
“By your hand?” Nyx wasn’t any less fierce for being injured.
“Yes,” Eavan admitted.
“It was worth it then. Now, if you want to make me happy, go celebrate with Cillian. Call it a cure for your guilt.” Nyx closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Eavan stood there for several moments. Some things never change. Her grandmother was still the family matriarch, still focused on her personal agenda, still determined to save Eavan from dying from the “disease” of mortality.
Quietly, with only Muriel for a witness, Eavan walked over and kissed her grandmother’s forehead and whispered the same words she used to whisper as a girl: “You’re such a bitch, Grandmama Nyx.”
Nyx smiled but didn’t open her eyes. “Love you, too, Evvie.”
After her shower, Eavan sat in Nyx’s room and flipped through a manila folder she’d found in Daniel’s office, one she hadn’t given Cillian. He had looked up when she walked past the sitting room, but he hadn’t followed her into Nyx’s room.
Eavan flipped through the pages and stared at the names:
Christophe, James
Imlee, D—?
McKinsey, Rachel
Wall,???
There were more than a dozen pages on different people and other thicker packets of information that made no sense to her.
S
he wasn’t meant for a normal life, but that didn’t mean she had to give up hope of everything she’d believed. Maybe Nyx was right: maybe she couldn’t deny what she was. She was a murderess, a daughter of glaistigs, but she was also daughter to a long-gone human father. She’d commit a few murders to keep her appetites in control. She wasn’t going to become fully glaistig. There were choices left to her—not as many as before Daniel, but still enough that she could keep hold her of her humanity.