“Leah,” Evie says, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice so forceful. “I know you might not have wanted to get into things in front of Jer, but I could feel you had a knife on your belt the moment you hugged me. Where is Hathwell?”
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “If he’s disappeared, then he’s either running from something or it’s already caught up with him. I think he was involved in some bad stuff. Illegal things.”
“Did he hurt you?” she asks, eyes wide.
I hesitate too long, but it’s a difficult question to answer. I don’t know for sure if Hathwell was there that night in the chamber. Maybe he was one of the sorcerers who got away, or maybe he was never there at all. I’ve avoided thinking about that night, but now as I try to find a version of it to tell Evie,I recall what I heard when I woke up on the table, things I didn’t really process in the moment.
They said it “needs to workthis time,” I’m sure of it. Muttering about mistakes made in the past and double-checking things. I’d been suspicious of Hathwell before our engagement because of the rumors about his first wife. If heisinvolved with the sorcerers, was his first wife also his first attempt at the summoning ritual? Did she die on that same table where I was sacrificed?
The thought sends a chill up my spine, but it stays and lingers at the base of my neck, building into an unnatural pressure. My mouth goes dry. Syrus is close. I can feel it.
“Leah, what’s wrong?” Evie says, her voice tight with worry. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” I say shaking my head. “The important thing is I got away, and I’m not going back. Listen, Evie, I don’t have much time,” I grab hold of her arms, seizing upon the small bit of truth I can give her. “I’m working a job for someone, and when I’m done, I can come back to you, and I’ll have enough coin to live however I want.”
The pressure of Syrus breaking down my walls is growing, bearing down on my shoulders like a physical weight. I attempt a reassuring smile for Evie’s sake. “Until then, I don’t know if it’s safe for me to come by again.”
“But Leah, what do you mean?” Her face crumples, eyes starting to fill with tears. She can sense my urgency, and it’s panicking her. “If it’s not safe, then don’t go back! Stay here with us. Let me help you?—”
I shake my head, hating that I’ve scared her, but I don’t have time to fix that now. My words come fast. “I’ll be all right. I promise. But until I can come back, if anything happens with you and Jeremy, go find a man called Hodges Laikar. Hear me? He lives on Post Street on the south bank. Tell him who you are and he’ll help you. Okay?”
Pins and needles sweep through my limbs as the pressure of denying Syrus rises, demanding entrance to my mind. It’s like I’m holding my breath, refusing to give my lungs the air they desperately need.Just let him in, my body screams at me.It will feel so much better when you do.
Evie’s talking, begging me to stay, but I can barely focus on anything but keeping him out just a few moments longer.
“I’m sorry. I love you. Trust that I’ll be okay,” I babble as I give her one last squeeze before sprinting from the house.
I run through the streets, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and Evie’s home. The less Syrus knows about where I’ve been, the safer she’ll be.
I’m at least a few blocks away when he finally bursts through my walls, flooding into me like a reservoir pouring through a broken dam. He fills me up, flowing beneath my skin, pooling at my fingertips and wrapping himself around my throat. The sensation is too much, and I duck into an alley, sliding to the ground as I gasp at the heat of his anger.
“Back to Malice. Now,”he commands, the voice all the more terrifying for how controlled it is, despite the tension quivering underneath.
I don’t fight him as he ensures I obey his order, too exhausted from holding him back for so long. I let him draw the knife and stumble to a window. I say nothing as he scratches runes into the brickwork with the tip and then, without a match in sight, clicks my fingers until a flame appears between them, igniting the runes.
I guess all that practice channeling his magic through me worked.
The rift flares open, and he forces my feet through it. My body is getting used to rift travel, so I don’t feel nauseous coming through the aether. What I do feel is Syrus’s presence leaving me the moment I set foot in Infernum, rushing out of me so fast I stumble, clutching the castle wall as the rift closes behind me.
We’re in his office, somewhere I’ve never been before. Despite my fear, I can’t help scanning the room with interest. I take in the messy desk and high-backed chair beside it, the stack of teacups that suggest long hours sat in one spot, and a familiar-looking book poking out of an open desk drawer.
But my examination is cut short by Syrus striding toward me, crowding me until I’m backed up against the edge of his desk.
“Where did you go?” he asks. His voice is low and rough, full of carefully leashed anger.
“I needed a few hours,” I say, keeping my face defiantly blank. Whatever consequences I face for this, I won’t apologize. Not when seeing Evie was completely worth it. Now that I know she’s okay, I feel lighter—braver. I channel that bravery now to meet Syrus’s intense gaze.
“A few hours for what? What were you doing?” he demands. There’s an edge to his voice that’s more than anger. It’s almost like…fear? But that makes no sense. The Lord of Malice has no reason to be afraid of me.
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not telling you that. It’s none of your business. But believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about it, either.”
He drags his hand over his face, rubbing his palm along his clenched jaw. “I realize you didn’t get much of a choice in this?—”
I scoff. “You can say that again. Just like you can forcemeto say that again, or punch myself in the face, or nearly throw myself over another fucking cliff edge.”
“I needed you, and I had to be persuasive,” he says. “I know from personal experience that sometimes death is the only thing seen as worse than working with a demon.”
I loosen my arms a little, caught off guard by his reference to his past. It’s still hard to reconcile my original image of the demonic, terrifying Lord of Malice with the reality of Syrus. I know he’s full of contradictions, but there are times when that hits me harder than usual.
