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She shoves past, bumping my shoulder with hers. I twist, dispelling the force of it to keep my balance. Unprepared for my reaction, her steps falter. She balls her hands into fists at her sides, then storms off, not looking back.
I make it to Cassius’s quarters without further incident. I expect Cherno to swoop toward me when I enter the parlor, only to find it empty. A fire burns in the bedroom fireplace, warming the air for someone who isn’t there.
After checking the rest of the rooms and finding them all empty, I remove the small bottle from my top and hold it up to the light to examine it. The liquid is dark and thick but far less so than blood. At least Elizabeth didn’t attempt the exact same trick as last time.
Opening my trunk, I shove it down in the corner, under layers of clothes. That should keep it safe until I decide what to do with it. Then I sit on the foot of the bed, legs crossed, and eye the hidden vial of poison—because I can’t think of what else it might be.
However rare the ingredients and magic involved, there would be a tale or myth connected closely with any mention of the bond. The fact that Elizabeth claims to know of it when no one else doesandcame to possess something so rare in less than the span of two full days is suspicious all on its own.
The clock tower chimes an early hour, and the sky changes from inky black to a wintery gray. It’s the kind that seems to drain every trace of color from the world.
Briefly, I wonder if Cherno is still with Alaric. As if summoned by my thoughts, a plume of grey passes through the wall, taking the form of a bat. The demon spots me and alters their course. They land ungracefully on my head, tangling themselves in my hair.
“Where have you been?” I reach up and work to free the little menace.
“I thought she might have had you tossed in the dungeon again,” Cherno chirps.
Several strands fall over my eyes as I finally free them. I hold them at eye level. “Not this time,” I say.
Then I tell the demon almost everything. I leave out any mention of the vial. It’s one more secret I need to keep to myself for now. I can’t risk having it destroyed just yet.
If there’s no other way…I push away the thought.
Elizabeth has gone to great lengths to get Alaric right where she has him. I doubt there’s a limit to what Elizabeth is willing to do to keep him there.
***
I stand on the edge of a precipice, looking down over the sharp drop. It’s too dark to see more than dead grass under my feet and a body of water beyond the cliff. The wind howls like a harmony of demons descending on their prey.
Ripples form on a mirrored surface below. From this vantage, it’s impossible to tell if the water is deep or shallow. I step back, not wanting to find out and bump up against a warm body. A growl sets shivers skating over my skin.
My movements are sluggish as I turn. I don’t feel entirely in control of my body. And that is the most terrifying part.
A hand presses against the base of my throat, sliding up, fingers tightening until I can barely breathe. Deep blue eyes with a dim ring of demonic power trap me more so than his grip.
“Why are you here?” Alaric snarls. The words echo, lingering.
His hold constricts slightly. I gasp. My fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeves to steady myself. It seems to startle him, and his hand relaxes as his gaze travels from my touch to my face.
My pulse hammers in my ears as I lean into him. He is all I can think about. Not the dangers ahead or how to stop the curse from killing him, only how much my heart aches for missing him.
Alaric’s expression is unreadable, but his lips part as the space between us dwindles. Only when his body is flush against mine do we go still.
Each breath comes a little quicker with the adrenaline brought on by the uncertainty of what he’ll do next. He’s just as likely to kiss me as he is to threaten me.
“You are a spell that has ensnared me,” he says, “And I find I am unable to escape its enchantment.”
He searches my face, looking for answers I do not have. His palm cups my cheek, and my eyes grow too heavy to keep open. I feel his mouth trail down my neck, and the sharp points of his fangs drag over my skin.
Heaviness weighs down my limbs and slows my thoughts. I can’t seem to make myself move… I’m not sure I want to.
Then his warm breath fans over my lips. “Perhaps the next time I find you, I will break this spell of yours, little nightmare.”
Then his hand drops away.
At first, I think he steps back. I force my eyes open and find that I’m the one moving.
Falling.
