Authors: M.J. Scott
Shadow Kin (50 page)
“You were too hard on her,” Atherton said as the door to the outer chamber slammed shut behind Lily.
“Atherton,” I managed, between gritted teeth. “Go. Away.”
His face went still. Then he turned and left. The door slammed a second time, hard enough to make the oil lamps swing above the beds, sending shadows scurrying around the walls.
Leaving me alone. Alone surrounded by the blood-locked I’d worked so long to try to save.
Those who had fallen prey to the Blood.
As Lily had.
Anger roiled through me.
I wanted to hurt someone. Wanted to unleash the sun and burn the mess of my life to the ground.
Gods. I wanted not to have to think about it. About Lucius touching her, let alone him seeing her in the throes of pleasure.
No. Why should I care what she’d done? She had
lied
to me. Used me. Felt nothing for me. The need killed all human ties, all natural emotion. I knew that. Those in its grip wanted only the pleasure.
lied
to me. Used me. Felt nothing for me. The need killed all human ties, all natural emotion. I knew that. Those in its grip wanted only the pleasure.
But you want her anyway
, a vicious little voice in my head mocked.
, a vicious little voice in my head mocked.
Truth, I did. Gods and suns take me for a fool.
But I didn’t know how it could ever work between us despite what I had seen break in those gray eyes when I’d called her a whore.
What I’d felt break within me at the sight.
But I did know one thing. I now had no doubt I wanted Lucius dead.
Unable to stop myself, I kicked out at the chair where Lily had sat. It skidded across the room and crashed into a table, knocking a tray of tubes and instruments to the floor, where they shattered.
Not one of the patients around me stirred.
Which left me looking for something else to hurl.
“Feeling any better?” Atherton’s voice came from the doorway.
“No.”
“She’s not the same as a Nightseeker,” he said. “She didn’t choose.”
“I don’t care,” I ground out.
Atherton tilted his head and started picking his way across the room, surefooted as a cat despite his blindness. “If you say so,” he said, patently disbelieving. “Despite this . . . disinterest, you should still help her do what she wants to do.” He reached the mess I made, though how he knew where it was escaped me, and bent to right the table.
“Why?” I knew why I wanted Lucius dead. But I was in no mood to bend to anyone else’s desires right now.
Atherton straightened. “There is something I’ve never told you about the blood-locked.”
Gods and fucking suns. Was everyone in my life a liar? “What?”
“I have a theory that killing Lucius might break the addiction.”
My jaw dropped. “How? And why in hell are you only telling me this now?”
“Because I never thought we would have a chance to try it out,” he said calmly. He folded his arms and propped himself against one of the iron-framed beds.
Killing Lucius could be a cure? Fuck. “How sure are you?”
“It’s a theory. There must be something magical involved in the link between the Blood and the locked. We haven’t found a physical cause in all these years. Lucius is the head of his Court. He has killed all the older ones and destroyed their Courts over the centuries. His blood runs in all the Blood in this City. His magic. It might hold the key.”
Or it might not.
And if it didn’t? If Lily—if we—somehow went ahead with the plan and survived and succeeded and yet she still needed the blood? If she would still be forced to choose it every time. Could I cope with that?
Feeling my mind go red with rage once more at just the thought of her needing the blood still, even if it was Atherton who fed her, I doubted it.
But despite that, the dark part of me also felt a desperate need to make Lucius suffer. To end him. So I was going to try, and suns take the consequences.
When twilight came, Guy escorted me to the chamber he had prepared. The gaslights had been altered to sunlamps, which left me only with candles until I needed the sun.
Until Simon came to my rescue, that is.
If he did come to my rescue.
I lay down on the bed, stomach churning. I hadn’t seen Simon since I’d left the ward. I’d returned to the Brother House, found Guy, and asked for a room and to be left alone. Simon hadn’t come looking for me. And he had sent Guy to bring me here.
Guy who had assured me that nothing in the plan had changed.
Which I, apparently, was to take on faith.
It seemed that I was to do this without even a good-bye at the last.
So be it. I stared at the ceiling with eyes that burned from held-back tears and willed Lucius to appear. Every so often, I let myself drift toward the shadow to ease the pain but forced myself back. Part of me wanted the pain. Needed it to focus my anger and will on Lucius. An end was called for. His or mine.
When it grew fully dark, I shadowed fully. That way I actually had a chance of seeing Lucius coming.
The hours seemed endless as I fought both my fear and the need. I was near the edge of my limits. I almost welcomed the idea of death.
At least then I wouldn’t be scared anymore. Nor would I hurt.
The cathedral bell tolled midnight, then one, then two. Still nothing.
I paced around the room, so I wouldn’t sleep
That would be a quick ticket to death.
No, not death. Merely a return to slavery. Lucius didn’t want me dead. He wanted my blood. Though I was sure he had ways of keeping me alive that would make me wish I were dead before very long.
Wraiths live long lives. Not near immortal like the Fae but long enough. No doubt it would feel like an eternity of living hell if Lucius got his hands on me again.
I stared out the window, at the darkened grounds of the Brother House, wondering if he was lying in wait somewhere out there, waiting for his moment.
“Thinking of me?”
I whirled as Lucius stepped through the wall.
He was shadowed, as I was. I stepped backward, angling myself toward the door.
“Going to run again, shadow? Go on. You know how I enjoy the hunt.”
I wanted to but that wasn’t the plan. I steeled myself. “No. No, I’m not running.”
“No?” He tilted his head. “Have you seen reason, then? After your . . . departure.”
“You took me by surprise,” I said, stalling.
“You ran. You ran straight back to the humans.” His voice was a low snarl. I was glad that I couldn’t see any color in his eyes. No doubt they would burn scarlet.
There was no point lying. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“So you have changed your mind? You would come back to me? We could stand together.”
“With you drinking my blood to give you . . .” I spread my hand, unable to think of a better way to describe his ability than “abomination.” “This.”
“Yes. This. Isn’t it delightful?” His smile was anything but. “Entirely unexpected. But you could have my blood too. You know you want it. I can feel it in you from here. You hunger, shadow.”
I did. Hungered more now that I could smell him. It made me dizzy with want, but I fought for control, trying to remember. I was supposed to stall him. Not just stall him but get him to leave the shadow and distract him. Until Simon could come and bring the sunlight.
And I suddenly had a very clear vision of just how I could do that.
I licked my lips, dizzy from more than just the need now. Fear had turned my spine to ice. Lucius would be able to smell it, but that didn’t matter. He was used to me being afraid. Better that he believed I still was. “Yes. Yes, my Lord. I hunger.”
His mouth curved with vicious satisfaction. “I thought so. So you have seen sense?”
“What would you give me, if I came back to you?”
He took a step toward me, eyes glittering darkly. “Give you? You are mine, shadow. Why should I give you anything ?”
I let myself grow a little more solid, drew my dagger. He paused. He had touched me in the shadow. Was he wondering if I could do the same? He knew very well the damage my blade could do.
“You want something from me. We could come to terms. You wish to take this City. I can help you with that too. But I want . . . more freedom. After all, the humans have offered me anything I want.” I prayed he would believe me. Coming as he did from the Night World, where nothing is free, surely it was plausible that I would try to drive an advantage from this situation.
“They do not value you as I do, shadow. They cannot give you what you need.” He lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit suddenly. The smell of his blood welled around me.
Irresistible.
Almost.
“No, my Lord.” I made myself drop my gaze, let the dagger fall to my side, nerves shrieking at me as I gave him an opening.
He moved swiftly. Too swiftly. Suddenly he was beside me. But I realized I couldn’t feel any real sense of his body, not like I had felt when he’d chased me through the warrens. He was insubstantial now. Not like me. More like a ghost. So the effects of my blood were fading. Which had to mean he was even more desperate for it.
I schooled my face to stillness. I couldn’t smile. Couldn’t let him see anything but what he wanted to see. The blood scent grew stronger and I bit my lip, feeling my grip on my senses loosen. Soon I would have to leave the shadow. I needed some other sensation to fight the need. In my halfsolid state, I could dig my nails into my palm but I barely registered the sensation.
“I have missed you, shadow,” he said softly. His voice was right beside my ear though I felt no breath. “Did you miss me?”
I nodded slowly, tilting my head ever so slightly so my hair fell back off my neck, baring my throat. Willing him to take the bait. “Yes, my Lord.” I let my voice turn longing. “I . . . I have need, my Lord. Do you not . . . hunger . . . too?”
“Yes.” It was just a whisper. The sound of a voice calling from beyond the grave.
“Then—” I let my voice drop too. “Please, my Lord.”
His hand drifted across my neck. I felt it then, like the brush of a cobweb. “You want me?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
He lifted a hand, moved it toward me, but it passed through me. He snarled softly. “We cannot touch here.”
“No.”
“Then it’s the same for you?”
“Yes, my Lord. I always have to leave this place to touch another.” I wasn’t going to remind him that he’d touched me before in the shadow. That he was weakened. “That’s why I could never kill like this.”
He seemed to be considering. I looked up at him, made myself part my lips and lick them. “Please. The need . . . it is very bad.”
Lady, let him believe me
. “Please, my Lord.” Did I sound yearning or terrified? I didn’t know.
. “Please, my Lord.” Did I sound yearning or terrified? I didn’t know.
“You’ll come back with me?”
“Yes. When you leave, I’ll come with you.” Hopefully because I’d be carrying a bag full of his ashes.
“Put down your weapons,” he said.
Not completely fooled, then. I pulled the dagger and the stilettos from their sheaths, dropped them on the floor.
“Move back against the wall. Kneel. Put your hands behind you back. Then leave the shadow.”
In other words, make myself completely vulnerable. Prove I was trustworthy.
It took every effort of will I could muster, but I obeyed. I shook as I knelt there. Hoping like hell the depth of my fear wouldn’t give me away. Though Lucius liked fear. It might add to the temptation.
I tried to remember how to breathe as I waited, unable to tell where he was or what he might be doing. Was he going to take the bait?
Or had I just turned myself into the perfect target? I strained with all my senses, but until he chose to leave the shadow I was as blind as Atherton.
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