“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Grady denied. “There isn’t no one but me.”
“Boy, ya better watch that mouth,” the Mister warned.
I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.
“How about you watch your mouth?” Grady shot back, and another dose of fear punched me in the gut. The Mister wouldn’t take kindly to Grady talking back. If we got through this, the Mister would punish him. Real bad, too, like last time—
Without any warning, the blanket was ripped away, turning my blood to ice. Grady shifted so half his body covered mine, but it was no use. They knew I was here.
“It appears there are two instead of one, sharing a blanket. A girl.” The unnamed lord paused. “I think.”
“Move away from her,” Lord Samriel commanded.
“She ain’t nobody,” Grady gnashed out, his body trembling against mine.
“Everybody is somebody,” the other replied.
Grady didn’t move. There was a heavy, impatient sigh, and then Grady was gone—
Panic exploded inside me, moving all my limbs at once. I jackknifed up, reaching blindly for Grady in the sudden, too-bright lamplight flooding the chamber. I cried out as a Rae grabbed him by the waist. Thin, wispy gray shadows spilled out from the Rae’s robes and swirled around Grady’s legs.
“Let me go!” Grady shrieked, kicking out as he was dragged back. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Let me— ”
“Quiet,” Lord Samriel snapped, stepping between Grady and me. His long hair was so pale it was nearly white. He placed his hand on Grady’s shoulder.
Grady went quiet.
His normally warm brown skin took on a chalky gray cast as he just . . . he just stared back at me, his eyes wide and empty. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
“Grady?” I whispered, trembling until my teeth chattered.
There was no answer. He always answered me, but it was like he wasn’t even there anymore. Like he was just a shell that looked like him.
Fingers curled around my chin. At the touch it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I could feel the hairs on my arms stand as my skin prickled with awareness.
“It’s okay,” the other lord said, his voice almost soft, almost gentle as he turned my head toward him. “He will not be harmed.”
“We’ll see about that,” Lord Samriel replied.
I jerked but didn’t make it far. The unnamed lord’s hold wouldn’t allow it.
Through clumps of matted dark hair, I stared up at the Lord. He . . . he looked younger than I thought he would, as if he were only in the third decade of life. His hair was a golden brown, brushing shoulders encased in black, and his cheeks were the color of the sand found along the bank of Curser’s Bay. His face was an interesting mix of angles and straight lines, but his eyes . . .
They tilted at the outer corners, but it . . . it was the color of the irises that held my attention. I’d never seen anything like the colors. Each eye contained blots of blue, green, and brown.
The longer I stared at him, the more I realized he . . . he reminded me of the faded figures painted on the vaulted ceiling of the Priory. What had the Prioress called them? Angels. That’s what I had once heard her call the Hyhborn, saying they were guardians of mortals and the very realm itself, but what had entered the foundling home didn’t feel like protectors.
They felt like predators.
Except for this one, with the strange eyes. He felt . . .
“What about her?” Lord Samriel’s voice cracked the silence.
The young Hyhborn lord holding my chin said nothing as he stared at me. Slowly, I realized I’d stopped trembling. My heart had calmed.
I . . . I wasn’t afraid of him.
Just like I hadn’t been when I first met Grady, but that was because I saw what kind of person Grady was. My intuition had told me that Grady was as good as any of us could be. I saw nothing as I stared into the Lord’s eyes, but I knew I was safe, even as those pupils expanded. Tiny bursts of white appeared in his eyes. They were like stars, and they brightened until they were all I could see. My pulse began to pound like a runaway horse. Then it finally happened. My senses opened to him. I saw nothing in his eyes or in my mind.
But I felt something.
A warning.
A reckoning.
A promise of what was to come.
And I knew.
The Lord drew back, the pupils shrinking to a normal size and the white specks disappearing. “No,” he said, his gaze flicking to my arms, exposed by the too-big sweater I wore. “She is clear.”