I think of Briana in Aldron’s office.
If you hear me scream, then you can come running.
And if I don’t?
Then trust me to stand.
I close my eyes and count my breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
When I open them again, the room is still red around the edges, but I am inside my skin.Krishka slowly lowers her hand, and Cruz releases me a second later.
Moira watches with hungry interest.“Impressive.”
“Don’t compliment me,” I say.
She laughs, delighted.Krishka steps to the counter and removes a folded paper from her coat.She opens it, revealing a sketch of Briana’s symbol.The circle.The slash.The three drops.
Moira’s amusement dies.
“You know it,” Krishka says.
“No.”
I growl, and Moira looks at me.“That was not a no of ignorance.That was a no of self-preservation.”
“You need to start talking, or there will be nothing left to preserve,” I say.
Cruz sighs.“So much for not threatening.”
“That was advice.”
Moira’s red nails tap once against the glass.“The Sable Vein is not a name spoken lightly.”
“It is spoken by people who want to keep breathing,” Krishka says.
The banshee looks between us.Then she turns and flips the door sign toclosed.The lock clicks on its own, and I find myself not liking that.
Moira moves from behind the counter and glides toward the back of the shop.“Come, then.Bring your violence and your terrible questions.”
The back room is smaller, darker, and just so much worse.
Three mirrors hang on one wall, each covered with black cloth.A round table sits in the center of the room, carved with symbols that make my eyes want to look away.Moira lights a red candle with a snap of her fingers and places the sketch beside it.
“The Crimson Door is open again,” she says.
The words settle like poison in my veins.“Where?”I ask.
She ignores me and looks at Krishka.“Your bull has no manners.”
“My bull has trauma,” Krishka snaps.“Continue.”
Cruz leans closer to me.“I think she adopted you.”
