Slaying the Vampire Conqueror(54)

I would not go without Naro.

“I waited for such a long time,” I whispered.

“I was trying,” Naro said. “I tried to get back. But I got stuck in the western quarter. I was injured.”

I’d waited.

And then the explosion hit our little house, too.

I remembered little of it—only the loud noise, and then the silence afterwards, unnatural silence. I was lucky. If the old woman hadn’t come, I would’ve died. I only survived because I was in the back of the shack, not out in the street.

I’d opened my eyes to see the night sky, and nothing else. No house. No streets. No old woman.

“I came back as soon as I could,” Naro said, voice cracking. “And I found the house—”

At the same time, we both choked out, “I thought you were dead.”

And then we both laughed, our voices a little too high and manic, and for far too long.

I thought my brother was dead, and he wasn’t. He was alive and he was right here in front of me.

Those simple facts left me dizzy and lightheaded.

I wasn’t sure when, but we’d started holding hands, his clutched around mine like he wasn’t sure I was real. He’d always had uncommonly long fingers, though now they seemed more bonelike than they were before, the knuckles swollen and the pale skin nicked with scars.

I was never going to let go of him ever again.

But then his gleeful grin faded. He reached for my blindfold again.

“But you did that,” he murmured. “Y-you—”

I had never before allowed myself to feel anything but gratefulness when I thought of my decision to join the Arachessen. Now, for the first time, I felt embarrassed by it.

Then, just a quickly, angry for even feeling that way.

I pushed his hand away again.

“The Arachessen is my family,” I said.

I wished I couldn’t feel the hurt in Naro’s presence at that. Nor the disgusted pity.

“Family that take your eyes?”

I clenched my jaw, letting out air between my teeth.

“And what about the vampires?” Naro spat. “Are they family too?”

Weaver. Talking to Naro had pulled me from between my three roles. Suddenly it hit me just how much I had revealed to my brother, even in this short conversation. Already, I had said far too much of the truth—especially considering that vampires slept mere rooms away.

“They’re—” I lowered my voice. “It’s complicated, Naro.”

But Naro’s anger rose and rose. His threads quaked erratically.

“It isn’t complicated,” he said, pushing himself upright. “You—you broke into the Thorn King’s palace to murder him. Y-y-you—”

The Thorn King.

The words skewered me through the chest, driven by the intensity of Naro’s fury. That wasn’t false. Influenced by his withdrawal symptoms, yes, but not false.

“The Thorn King,” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing, calling him that, after what he did to our home?”

But Naro’s threads were unraveling now, his composure collapsing. His body trembled violently, and he fought to push himself out of bed and kept failing.

“You killed him,” he snarled. “Y-you k-killed him. You and the vampire, Vivi—you killed him!”

“Yes,” I snapped. “Tarkan is dead and you’re free now. I know you had to do what you had to for survival. I don’t—” I stumbled over the words, involuntarily. “I don’t blame you for that. It isn’t your fault—”

“You killed him!” Naro roared, and tried to fling himself out of the bed, only to go crashing to the floor.

Weaver, no.

My heart was beating fast, my throat tight. I no longer felt the sensation of tears, but my nose and throat prickled.

Footsteps approached, probably alerted by the noise. I knelt beside my brother and, with shaky hands, pressed my fingers to his temple, sending him the strongest sedation I could.

He thrashed for a few seconds longer, then went limp.

Atrius stood in the doorway. I felt him there, but I ignored him. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I couldn’t open my mouth to speak, anyway. It wouldn’t be words that came out.

Naro was larger than me, but skinny. It was awkward, not difficult, to lift him back into the bed.

Still, Atrius took a few steps forward, moving to help while avoiding the rays of sunshine.

“I’ve got it,” I choked out.

Naro settled back into bed. I pulled the covers up around him. Even asleep, the tremors racked his hands and arms, even the small muscles of his face.

Pythoraseed. A horrible drug. It was worse to see the way it had consumed and destroyed his threads than it was to see it in his body alone.

Seconds ticked by as I stood beside him. Atrius watched silently.

Then, he said, “Come.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Staring at him won’t do anything.”

There was something in his voice, something tender and a little painful, that made Erekkus’s words float through my mind:

We know what this feels like.

“I’d like to talk to you,” he said. “Business.”

I swallowed thickly. Turned. “Fine.”