I raised a brow. “Come again?”
“You’ve heard that she was born in a shroud.”
“I have.” I frowned.
“Then you also know what that means.”
It was believed that Atlantians born in a shroud at birth—a caul—were Chosen by the gods. Blessed. There hadn’t been an Atlantian born in one since the time of the gods. But besides that… “She doesn’t have Atlantian blood in her, Kieran.” I stated the obvious. There was no way she was even half-Atlantian, unless her brother wasn’t related to her by blood. But none of the digging we’d done had indicated that he was a half-brother. “She’s mortal.”
“No shit,” Kieran replied dryly. “But who’s to say mortals cannot be born in such?”
Who was to say? “I suppose it’s not impossible,” I decided. “But since the vamprys are pathological liars, I’m sure this is yet another lie.”
“True,” Kieran murmured. “But there has to be a reason they keep her cloistered and well-guarded at all times.”
“Perhaps that is something I will discover once I become one of her guards.”
“I would fucking hope so.”
I cracked a grin. “And if not, maybe we will find our answer in one of the Ascended we…befriend.”
“Befriend?” Kieran scoffed. “What a lovely way to frame capturing and torturing vamprys for information.”
“Isn’t it?”
Shaking his head, he scratched at his jaw. “By the way, exactly how are you going to earn the trust of someone you haven’t even spoken to?” he asked.
“Besides using my irresistible charm?”
“Besides that,” he replied dryly.
“I’ll use any means necessary.”
Kieran’s stare sharpened. “I think you mean that.”
I lifted my chin. “I do.”
“She could be innocent in all of this,” he stated.
I tamped down my rising irritation. Kieran’s words came from a good place. They almost always did. “You’re right. She could be, but her possible innocence or even her complicity doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is being able to use her to free Malik without setting the entirety of Solis on fire. That’s all that matters.”
Silent, he eyed me for several moments, his head cocked. “Sometimes I forget.”
My brows knotted. “Forget what?”
“That the Dark One was a fabrication the Ascended created to frighten the mortals. That you really aren’t that.”
I laughed, but it didn’t sound right to my ears. Nothing about the rough, low noise did.
I looked away, my jaw working. The Blood Crown may had spun tales about how murderous and violent the Dark One was before I even got to Solis. They created a shadow figure to hold up as an example of how evil Atlantians were, using the mere threat of such a specter to further frighten and control the kingdom’s people.
But how far off were they?
My hands were soaked in blood. I’d racked up more kills than all my men combined. Those I’d struck down upon my arrival in Solis. The high-ranking guards in Carsodonia. The lives I took in the town of Three Rivers. Throats I slit in all the many villages. Hannes. The yet unnamed guard who would also find their life cut short. Some of them deserved it. Too many were simply in the way.
I wanted to regret taking those lives.
In the bright light of day, I thought I did. At least those who were only an obstacle between me and freeing my brother. But at night? In the silence when there was no liquor to quiet the thoughts or a warm body to forget what I’d experienced and what I’d lost at the Blood Crown’s hands? I didn’t think I felt a damn bit of guilt then.
And didn’t that make me a type of tulpa—created in the minds of others and then willed into existence? Because the truth was, the Dark One hadn’t been real. Not in the beginning.
But he existed now.
THE
ONLY WAY I KNEW HOW
“You okay?” Kieran asked,
eyeing me closely.
Nodding, I picked up the glass.
“You sure about that?”
I sent him a look of warning.
“Don’t you have something to do? Or someone?”
Kieran huffed out a low laugh.
“I’m going to see if the others have arrived.” He stepped forward. “You staying here?”
“For a little while.” I wasn’t in the mood to return to the dorm, where I would lay in bed, damn near praying to sleeping gods that I could find rest.
“Expecting company tonight?” he asked as he moved to the door.
“No.” My gaze returned to the whiskey. Tension crept into the muscles of my neck. “Not tonight.”
“The Red Pearl is a strange place to spend one’s evening alone.”
“Is it? I imagine you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be here alone.”
“As if you do?” he countered.
A tight smile twisted my lips, but I stopped as he reached the door. “Real quick—how is Setti?” I asked.
Kieran smiled. “Your horse is fine. Though I don’t think he’s all that pleased with the offerings of hay.”
I smiled at that. That horse was a picky bastard at times. I was surprised he hadn’t nipped at Kieran while he kept him stabled.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Goodbye, Kieran.”
The wolven let out a soft, knowing laugh as he slipped quietly from the room. Anyone else would’ve thought twice about that laugh, but I didn’t with Kieran.
And he was right.
The Red Pearl was a strange place to spend your time alone. These rooms were used for the kinds of meetings you didn’t want others to know about. Sometimes, words were exchanged. Other times, a different type of communication happened, one with far less clothing that didn’t usually end with discussions of the likelihood of someone’s death. Then again, those types of meetings had become few and far between, hadn’t they?
I finished off the whiskey, welcoming the burn as I tipped my head back against the settee. A heavy restlessness settled into my bones. I stared at the dark ceiling, wondering exactly when a few hours of mindless pleasure stopped having the desired effect of shutting down my mind.
Had it ever really worked, though? For longer than a handful of seconds? I could occupy my hands and tongue and every other part of my body with soft curves and warm, hidden places, but my mind would always end up exactly where I sought to escape.
That damn cage with the unending hunger.
The feeling of being dead yet still breathing. As if everything that made life about more than just existing was still in that cage.
Even now, I could feel the cold, bruising hands and hear the taunting laughter as the Ascended slowly sliced away a part of who I was. And Malik? He was likely experiencing everything I had and more, and it was all my fault.
I was the only reason the Blood Crown held him captive. The only reason Atlantia had gone long past the time to name a new King. If I hadn’t thought I could end the threat to the west on my own, he would be free. Instead, he’d rescued me at the cost of his freedom.
When the Blood Queen held me, it had been for five decades. They’d had him twice that long, and I knew exactly what they were doing to him.