It was possible they’d grown worse.
My family’s most despised foe, and the target of my vendetta, wanted me to somehow lure a castle, which even Rafaela the Ruthless, who feared nothing and no one, was wary of … into communing with me? Sure, why the scorch not? Did it matter that I hadn’t the faintest idea how any of us were going to communicate with a structure made of stone and shadow? Nope. At least our mission, however foolhardy, would keep me from my frigid dungeon prison, and also from succumbing—no longer to bloodlust, but to just plain lust—with the very last man in all the Opalese I should be allowing anywhere near my insides.
“So? How are we going to do this?” Aziza asked Baz and—inexplicably—me, once Lev and Moncho left to feed Terencia.
The shadows and drifting olandule smoke in the parlor pressed in on us so that the room shrank. Baz stood so close to me that the heat of his body tantalized mine. I wanted to lean into him for some of that warmth, but all remaining eyes were on us, tracking our every move.
Baz looked down at me. “Velle, you have any ideas?”
“Velle?” Aziza said. “You have a nickname for her?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders, causing the Rillis rope to shake. “We all have ’em, and her name’s long.”
“We all have nicknames for each other because we’re friends. She’s not our friend. She’s our enemy.”
“Pretty sure we covered that already. Not that I’ve forgotten for a moment.”
At least one of us was able to keep the boundaries of our relationship clear. Granted, he hadn’t been consumed by bloodlust.
No, I couldn’t help but think, not bloodlust. But he hadn’t been in control of his actions any more than I had. It was my face, my body. Men saw me and wanted to have sex with me. They couldn’t help themselves. It was an unnatural reaction.
It wasn’t him. It was me. It was always me.
I met the ocean in his eyes. It was intent, the kind of calm that betrayed a storm churning on the horizon.
“How am I supposed to know what to do? I’m the prisoner here.”
“We avoid the castle’s shadows or they hurt us. You were rubbing all up in her shadows, and with your bare skin too, and she didn’t so much as pinch you.”
“The castle pinches you?”
Aziza chortled darkly. “That’d be like a caress. Mauldrene just gobbled up a parvnit, all but her leg.”
I didn’t allow myself to enjoy the pain of others. It had been a rule of mine since I was a child fighting in the pits. It was the only way to keep myself from becoming a monster, doing what I had to do to survive. Later, after I died and really did become a monster, the rule stuck. It would at least keep my monster from overpowering me, though I’d never be free of it.
The parvnit had pled her case for my immediate execution. When that had failed, she’d hounded me, tailing me on this trip to Ombrash Island, all to get another try at ending me via official sanction.
A good rule-maker knew when and how to be a good rule-breaker. I allowed myself to savor the satisfaction of Cosette getting her execution before she managed to secure mine.
Thanks for the assist, Justice.
“How do they hurt you?” I asked. “The shadows, do they solidify … or what?”
“Don’t tell her,” Aziza said.
Baz frowned. “You’re either alright with her helping us or you’re not. We can’t keep going back and forth. We have to hurry.”
“Then I’m not okay with her scoping out the castle to ‘help us.’ Who knows what kind of weapon she could get her hands on? If the castle likes her, uh-unh. I don’t trust it. Lock her back up. I’m good with that.”
“Me too,” Night said.
With Lev and Moncho gone, Night and Félix had moved from in front of the doorway to stand across from me. Edwidge stood solid as a tree not an arm’s length from my right, and Aziza was creeping closer across the couch when she thought I wasn’t looking.
Baz lifted his arm, jostling mine. “Rillis rope, remember? There’s no locking her up anymore. I’m stuck with her.”
I bristled. “It’s not like I wanna be stuck with you either, asshole. Feel free to release me. I’ll be happy to get out of your way as quickly as possible.”
I would regroup, make a plan—a much better plan, this time—and come at him again.
