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I stood up at the same time that the young man on the other side of the table said, “Wait.”
My entire body froze on the spot.
“We need to talk about your Blood Magic training,” he said, intently focusing on an open book laid across the corner of the table. It was a wonder I didn’t notice it while walking in. The ornate cover composed of faded scarlet cloth with bright red leather stitched onto the spine and corners. I couldn’t see the title, nor read the swirling Spanish script.
I nodded, but didn’t return to my seat. “Of course,” I said, trying to coax him along. I wanted to ask him about how my magic was different from the line of kings.
He pored over the book for a few extra moments before responding. There was a tightness in the planes of his face which reminded me of how he looked before tasting the bitter air of car exhaust, or the stench of a fish market. “You’re doing exceptionally well. But… I must confess, this doesn’t relate to magic in the way you might think.” Antonio was tripping over his words a little, and I didn’t know why.
I remained silent, trying to tease out the meaning lost between his words. Until this point, he had been clear and direct.
He took a deep breath. “It… has come to our attention that the district where you lived before is suffering an outbreak.”
My eyebrows drew together. “An outbreak.” Then the meaning hit me.
An outbreak of the Withering.
An ice cold sweat coated my body, and my heartbeat stuttered while all thoughts of the line of kings hurled from my mind. The same level of rage I’d focused upon Antonio while scaling the mountain flooded my vision with red. I leaned forward, setting the folder down and putting my hands on Antonio’s desk. “What do you mean?”
A thousand possibilities assaulted me.
Before I had time to compose myself for another question, Antonio continued. “You should know that it hasn’t touched your friend, Magda. The Maestra Cecelia’s Theater is currently in isolation. This problem is confined to the Trabajador housing.”
My eyes and nose burned. That didn’t make it better. “People lost to the Withering are a tragedy no matter their station.” My lower belly heated, turning my body into a kiln of tension.
Antonio’s expression hardened. “I didn’t say it wasn’t horrific.” His voice went low, dangerous.
Recognition flickered inside of me. He often hardened in the face of feeling. He was a mercurial person—a guarded one, with razor-sharp focus. It felt like our acquaintanceship took one step forward and two steps back faster than I could keep up with.
The wall I had been building between us, despite my obvious attraction, added another row of bricks, which blotted out any light I could shine on Antonio and his goodness.
Then another thought popped into my mind. “Why don’t you people fix these problems? Aren’t the Élite supposed to be entrusted to steer and safe-guard the society in Arrebol?” I hadn’t intended for my tone to be venomous, but how could it not be when I knew about the pastillas negras?
Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Our magic only works for ourselves. While it would be ideal, I could not heal you anymore than you could heal me if one of us were injured. No one can. That’s why we have Key Bearers to increase our magic.” His head cocked to the side. “Well, actually, that’s not entirely true. There are supposedly some people who can heal each other with some sort of the Blood Bond, but the exceptions are extremely rare.”
I scoffed. However, when I thought back on everything I knew about both Élites and Blood Magic, I couldn’t recall a single instance of someone helping to heal another person in any books or during the broadcasts of the Blood Tournaments. I acutely remembered how I had burned Magda with my blood several years ago. I was extremely careful to ensure it never happened again, but I spent two long months wrapping her hands after that.
Even knowing that, I still asked, “Do you think I could heal someone?”
Antonio shook his head, then he glanced down at the book in front of him. “The Sanguine Call creates the possibility of blood binding.” He held up his hand. “I can hear your thoughts from here. And yes, it is exactly what it sounds like, but impossible to recreate and easy to reject. Most people consider it a mutation of some kind.”
I sucked in a breath. Mutation. “Like my Blood Magic.”
He hummed.
I bit my lip. “How would I know if I have it?”
Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Have you met someone with blood you’d like to taste?”
My spine straightened. “No.” The idea was repulsive. But from the way Antonio was looking at me, it didn’t seem to have the same effect on him. “Have you?”
Antonio’s lips pressed together. “No.”
My stomach flipped. “Entendido,” I said shortly. “Thank you for the update, but I am going to return to my studies, if you don’t mind.” I had already turned when I remembered the folder still sitting on his desk. After whipping back around, I snatched it up and marched out of his office without another word.
Chapter32
Rage and Romance Wrapped Up With A Bow
