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Jesus, that hurt. I guess I should’ve been relieved it wasn’t blade-first. But I didn’t feel too relieved at the moment.
Clutching myself, I bent my knees in and I slid toward the ground. “Just—just having a little discussion with Quilla’s aunt.”
“Ah.” Olivander leaned against the opened doorway and kept providing light for us as Melaina proceeded to kick the crap out of me, grabbing a hunk of my hair before slamming her fist into my jaw.
“If they have her, then why the hell are you here and not out there saving her, huh?” she roared.
“I don’t know where she is!” I cried defensively, deciding I needed more hands to protect all the parts she was attacking.
Melaina kicked me in the ribs. “Don’t you dare bullshit me. I know that mark of yours can track her anywhere, so I’m going to repeat my question.” Bulldozing into me again, she pushed me onto my back. And then she crawled on top of me and straddled my face, her knees squeezing forcefully around my neck. “Where is she?”
“You know,” Olivander spoke up conversationally. “I’m beginning to think she’s legitimately kicking your ass, and you’re not just letting her win anymore.”
I spared him a glare, and then grabbed Melaina’s thigh and flipped her off me, causing her to scream in rage and surprise when I pinned her down and got into her face.
“Look at me!” I snarled, pointing at my temple. “They took my mark. They took it so I couldn’t find her, and now I can’t feel her at all. I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t know if she’s alive.” My voice cracked on that word, and I grew defeated as I repeated. “I have no idea where she is at all.”
“No,” Melaina whispered in horror, lifting her hand slowly to touch my wound. “But you—you have to. You’re my only hope in getting her back.”
“I don’t know where she is,” I said steadily. “But I will. We’re doing everything we can to locate her, and we will get her back. I swear it.”
“Yes.” A sob shook her frame. “We have to,” she ordered. “That girl is my heartbeat. No matter how much I tried to contaminate her and sully some of that pure soul she has so she wouldn’t be too fragile and she could take care of herself, a part of her could never be tainted. There was just this innate kindness that lurked below the surface no matter what I did, and it infected those around her. She infected me. The little bitch was like my own little ray of hope. No matter how dour things got or dark our future looked, she never gave up. She was always there. With me. I can’t give up on her. Oh God. Please. She’s my child. I can’t do this without her. Please…” She clutched her face and moaned. “I can’t leave the Outer Realms without her. She—she…” Looking up at me and revealing a face full of blood that dripped from her eyes and nose and mouth, she sobbed. “Find her, Indy. Find her.”
“Melaina,” I murmured, taking her arms kindly. “We will. Now stop this. Stop crying. She wouldn’t want you to bleed out.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head, too far gone. “I need her. I can’t stop.”
I shook her. Hard.
Startled, she blinked at me.
“Stop crying,” I ordered. “It’s not doing anyone any good. Especially yourself. Start planning what we’re going to do to Quilla’s kidnappers when we catch them.”
“Oh, we’re going to flay the bastards alive,” she seethed, only to hiccup and sniff, unable to quell the bloody tears. “First, I’m going to slice their stomachs open with the thinnest slit so that their guts don’t spill out all at once but need to be pulled forth one inch at a time, drawing out the pain so they feel it for hours and days.”
“That’s really gross and barbaric,” I said, climbing off her and then holding a hand down to help her up. “But I like where you’re going with it. Keep up the savage thoughts. Alright?”
She nodded, but the blood kept coming. Because she kept crying as she spoke. “We’re going to make them scream in agony,” she promised, taking my hand but not having the strength to pull herself up. “Every last one of them.”
“Yes, we will.” I let go of her fingers as she passed out, so I could scoop her into my arms.
After picking her up, I turned toward the cottage, where Olivander scuttled back out of the way, wide-eyed and gaping as I carried Melaina forward. “So that’s Quilla’s aunt? Lovely woman.”
“She’s an acquired taste,” I answered as I brushed past.
“Obviously.” The prince followed to watch as I laid her down on my cot and mopped drying blood off her face.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked. “I’ve never seen anyone bleed from the eyes like that before.”
“Her Graykey husband suppressed her gentler emotions like compassion, love, and kindness. When she does manage to feel them, they begin to kill her.”
“Shit,” he murmured sympathetically, kneeling next to me so he could study Melaina’s prone features. “It always manages to amaze me how corrupt some people can get. Why would you subject another human being to that kind of suffering?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured, though a part of me maybe kind of did know.
Fear, it told me. Fear made us crazy and ugly and unrecognizable. I understood fear now, on an up-close-and-personal level. How it plowed through me and reared its ugly head, telling me I had no power. No control. It made me want to do almost anything to feel the presence of dominion over pretty much anything again.
Giving in to fear and letting it rule him was probably why Melaina’s husband had felt the need to subordinate her to his will. So he’d always have control. So he’d never experience the helpless, gripping loss of it. Because he’d been utterly weak.
