Page 123 of Stormbreaker

“You didn’t want to kill a criminal,” she says with a tut. “How very . . . noble.”

Her head tosses back, and she laughs. “That’s all very well and good,” she continues. “But you understand that House Aria is also tasked with a duty? That we hunt down the infected and ensure they are dealt with? That they are one of our greatest threats?”

Slowly, I nod.

Obviously, I know this. I’ve always known this, but I had no other choice.

“Can you do it? Protect your city?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” I answer, and this is the truth.

“As a Storm Guard,” she says. “That’s a very different thing.”

I nod. “I will do what it takes.”

The words turn to ash in my mouth, but I understand this is also what she needs to hear.

Scion Beaufort takes a slow step and then another, stopping just above me. She reaches out and presses a sharp-tipped nail under my chin.

“Your father is furious with me,” she says. “Yet his anger is misplaced.”

“He’s furious with me, too,” I reply, and she nods.

“Your presence in Aria causes nothing but problems for me, do you understand that? You’ve started a war that I had nothing to do with, and I don’t take kindly to that.”

I try to nod, though I can’t move, thanks to her finger keeping my head in place.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

She makes a tsking sound. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” she adds. “I don’t trust whatever’s happening here. Your father and you just put on a very nice show, and I can’t help but think that was for my benefit.”

She leans in close enough that I feel the warmth of her breath on my cheeks. It makes my skin crawl, and I try not to flinch away.

“If you put a toe out of line, you’re done. Do you understand? If I get the slightest breath of your betrayal, I won’t hesitate to take you out, Poet Graves. You are no longer under your father’s protection, and every member of my House will be given orders to report anything suspicious directly to me.

“And if they should decide to take matters into their own hands, I will look the other way. Is that clear?”

She pulls up and gives me a hard look.

“Yes,” I say, forcing the word through a leaden tongue.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Scion Beaufort.”

Finally, she lets go and backs up, all without taking her eyes off me.

“Then welcome to House Aria, Poet Graves. It’ll be a miracle if you last until morning.”

45

I find the ballroom mostly empty. Everyone is gathered in the adjoining room, where I can hear the sounds of laughter and mingling. I’m trembling and nauseous and I want to lie down, but I’m also coursing with rivers of pent-up energy.

“Poet!” Someone calls my name, and I turn to find Domino approaching. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right. I was waiting for you to come out.”