Another warm feeling in my chest.
I look away, setting the stripped haunch on the ground so I can wipe my bloody hands on my pants. “He should be set for a while after that.”Surely. “I might use the opportunity to hunt for my sister.”
And something else to drop down the little mite’s gob.
I glance back at the hole of doom, dreading the moment I squeeze past those puking runes …
“If you give me some of your blood, I can etch you safe passage in and out of the main entrance,” Essi offers with an eager hitch.
I frown. “The main entrance? Are you sure? You barely know m—”
“Certain,” she says, cutting me off. Nodding so fast I feel like I’ve won some mythical award for hacking meat off a bone.
“Okay, well, I appreciate it. Thank you.” I pass her a half smile. “Throwing up that delicious loaf might’ve broken my heart.”
Her face goes red.
She opens her mouth, closes it, then dashes into Raeve’s washroom, returning with a mug and a strip of linen. Crouching before me, she grabs my dagger, cleans off the blood with the hem of her shirt, then takes my hand in hers and spreads my fingers flat—her touch firm but gentle. Movementshypnotic.So much so that I almost forget to ask the important questions.
“You’re not going to bind me to an object or something, are you? Make my blood boil every time you pass a flaming weald over it?”
She frowns, looking at me with such innocence I’m struck breathless. “Why would I want to do that?”
“I— Sorry.”
It’s all I can blurt instead ofyou can do anything you want to me.Because I don’t want that. A handful of hurried heartbeats with Essi and I can already see she’s not someone you dash through the flames with, trying not to get burnt. She’s someone youset yourselfon firefor.
Unfortunately, that’s not for me.
“Don’t be. You’re cautious. I admire that.” She drops her gaze and sets the tip of Grihm’s blade against a crease in my palm. “My parents weren’t cautious enough. Now they’re dead.”
She drops the words casually, like they’re bundled in so much wool they hardly make a sound, then presses on the blade. The pinch of sting pales in comparison to this deep sense that Essi’s had it bad. That she’s been through things I’m not sure I want to know.
Or maybe I do. Maybe I want to hunt every fucker down who’s ever bruised her existence—
“You want to find your sister?” she asks.
I look up from the welling red puddle in my palm to see Essi’s gone stone still, her wide eyes on the cut.
“Correct.” I tip my blood into the cup, wrap my wounded palm, then use my teeth to rip a split in the bind, securing a knot. “That’s the plan anyway.”
“You won’t find her …”
Her ominous tone ices me to the core.
“What do you mea—”
She peers up.
At the sight of her blown pupils, I still. Suddenly feeling as though I’m in the presence of somethingbiggerthan this room. Like I’m pushed against the wall, struggling to find the space to draw breath.
“I’ve smelled this blood before,” she rasps, brows pinched together above imploring eyes. “When I etched blood-runes forQueen Dothea Vaegor.”
My sister’s name strikes like a blow to the gut.
Well … shit.
I scratch the back of my head while I stare at Essi, trying to work out what the fuck just happened. How she discovered who I am by the smell of my blood alone. That’s not normal. Even for a self-taught Bloodlace, which I presume she is.
