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He’d told her this to encourage her to conquer her powers. But Scarlett knew that once she was an immortal, she would no longer be able to love. Love was such a fundamental part of what drove her, she didn’t even know who she’d be without love. What if it made her like her father, who only wanted power?
So, despite Anissa’s warning, Scarlett had planned to get the blood that Tella and Julian needed for their Fated book.
* * *
“Are you certain you want to go through with this?” asked the Lady Prisoner. “I can’t lie, so if I make a threat, I have to be willing to follow through. And if he catches you, your magical key won’t get you out of one of his cages.”
“I know,” Scarlett said. “But if this works, neither of us will have to worry about being caged at all.” Which was one of the reasons she’d chosen to trust the Fate. Scarlett didn’t believe Anissa’s concern for her was genuine, but she did believe that Anissa wanted out of her cage. “I think this will work, but if you’re having second thoughts—”
“Gavriel and I have had skirmishes like this for decades.” The Lady Prisoner hopped off her perch to move closer to Scarlett. “I can handle whatever he throws my way.”
“So can I,” Scarlett said, feigning confidence she didn’t feel as she dropped the wineglass from her hand, shattering it against the marble floor. Sharp shards of glass landed around her feet while garnet wine spread out, staining the hem of Scarlett’s pink dress as the Lady Prisoner reached through her bars and picked up the largest glass fragment.
A moment later Scarlett cried out, loud enough to alert the guard outside her door. He clattered in an instant later. One look at Scarlett, forced against Anissa’s cage, as Anissa reached through the bars to press a shard of glass against Scarlett’s neck, and a moldy green cloud of fear formed around the guard as he reached for his sword.
“I wouldn’t do that, unless you want me to kill her.” The Lady Prisoner tilted her spike of broken glass to the most defenseless part of Scarlett’s throat.
“Now,” she went on conversationally. “Fetch Gavriel. Tell him what you’ve seen and that if he doesn’t come here right now, I’ll slit his daughter’s throat.”
The guard immediately did as he was told. Like Scarlett, he knew the Lady Prisoner couldn’t lie.
“I hope this works,” the Fate whispered once he left. “I really wouldn’t enjoy killing you.”
“I don’t particularly want to die,” Scarlett said, hoping she hadn’t overestimated her value to the Fallen Star. Scarlett knew that he didn’t care for her, and he certainly didn’t love her. But based on the amount of time he spent each day working with her to conquer her powers, she knew that he very much cared about her abilities and what she could do for him. And yet her palms began to sweat as he stepped inside.
Scarlett didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, what the Fallen Star had been doing, but there was blood spatter on his bone-white shirt and fury in his eyes. The room grew hotter as it filled with the violent red sparks surrounding him.
“Use your fire on me and I’ll kill her,” the Lady Prisoner called from behind her bars. “If you want her, come get her yourself.”
Scarlett didn’t have to pretend to tremble at the words. Because of the Lady Prisoner’s inability to lie, if the Fallen Star did use his flames, then she would be compelled to follow through with her threats. But both Scarlett and the Lady Prisoner had agreed on the risk. If the Fallen Star used his fire, then he would defeat Anissa before she was able to stab him with the broken glass and collect the blood that Scarlett needed.
Gavriel’s sparks disappeared and he crossed the room faster than Scarlett could blink.
She stumbled to the side as the Lady Prisoner shoved her out of the way and sliced the Fallen Star’s throat with her glass.
The cut was bloody and perfect.
Too perfect. But Scarlett wouldn’t realize that until later.
She ran to the Fallen Star as he dropped to his knees and pressed her handkerchief against his bleeding throat to collect his spilling blood as he closed his eyes and died.
It was the ugliest thing Scarlett had ever done. Was this what it was to be a Fate? It lasted less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity before his golden eyes closed and his body went limp. Scarlett couldn’t stop her legs or her hands from shaking. She knew they hadn’t killed him forever, though he deserved it. He’d killed her mother and countless others. Still, it felt wrong.
And Scarlett was already imagining what the Fallen Star would do in his fury when he did come back to life. She needed to move quickly.
She dripped blood across the marble floors as she ran to the bathing room with the bloodied cloth to squeeze the Fallen Star’s blood into a vial. Why, why hadn’t she thought to hide the vial somewhere on her person to have right at his throat?
Drip. Drip.
It was taking too long to fill the vial.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“What are you doing with that, auhtara?”
Scarlett’s eyes shot up to the bathing room mirror, her trembling limbs turning to liquid. The Fallen Star stood behind her like a bronze statue that had been sliced open. His skin was pale as the dead and his neck was still bloody, but he was very much alive. Had he been pretending? Or did he just recover that fast?
He knocked the vial to the ground, shattering the glass, and wrapped a hand around her throat, choking off her air. “Disappointed I’m not dead?”
