Page 32

“That’s enough,” I told the servants, rushing them from the tub to the door. “I don’t think you want to be here when Lord Varick returns.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to, either.

Moments later, Varick’s boots clomped in the hall outside the chamber. He shouldered his way into the room with an unconscious Laurent in his arms, pausing only to kick the door shut with his heel. Then he marched straight to the tub and dumped Laurent into it. Laurent roused at once, sputtering and grabbing at the sides.

He gasped loudly. “What the fu—”

Varick shoved him underwater with a big hand on Laurent’s head.

I clapped a palm over my mouth to hold in my yelp.

Laurent’s legs kicked above the water, sloshing it everywhere. He lost his grip on the tub, and his upper body plunged deeper. Varick held him under with an unforgiving grip on Laurent’s hair.

“He can’t breathe!” I protested.

“Good,” Varick growled. He pulled Laurent from the water. As Laurent choked and sucked in air, Varick went to one knee beside the tub. He kept a tight grip on Laurent’s hair.

“Behave yourself or go back under,” Varick said in his general’s voice. “Which will it be?”

Laurent’s chest heaved as water coursed down his face. His fangs were fully distended, his face a mask of rage. “Fuck you! How dare—”

Varick shoved him back down. “Wrong choice,” he muttered as Laurent kicked and struggled violently. He was no match for Varick’s strength, however, and he only succeeded in making a bigger mess on the mayor’s carpet.

After an agonizing minute, Varick pulled Laurent from the water by his hair. Varick released him, leaving Laurent to gag and dry heave as Varick quickly drew his elven-steel dagger and set it on the ground.

Laurent lunged at him, fangs bared and eyes wild. His bite grazed Varick’s hand.

Varick blurred, and then he had Laurent by the hair again. The muscles in his shoulders flexed like he was struggling to contain Laurent. “Same question, Your Grace. Are you going to be a good boy?”

“I will confiscate your estates! Seize every piece of property—”

Laurent’s threats cut off as Varick shoved him under the water. The tub was more than half-empty now, most of the water soaking into the carpet. I watched helplessly, unsure if I should intervene.

Abruptly, Varick’s voice flowed into my head. “Let me handle him, halfling.” He turned his head and met my gaze briefly.

I nodded.

He held Laurent under for far longer this time. When he finally dragged Laurent up, Laurent leaned over the side of the tub and vomited water. Varick’s dagger flashed. Faster than I could track, he sliced his wrist and thrust it in front of Laurent’s mouth.

Laurent’s eyes fired bright silver. He hissed and lunged for Varick’s arm.

Varick gripped Laurent’s hair and yanked his head back. “Slow. Understand?”

“Yes,” Laurent gasped. He writhed in Varick’s grip. “Please.”

“Slow. Say it.”

“Slow.” Laurent shuddered, and his eyes dimmed a little. “I’ll…go slow.”

“Who am I?”

Laurent stared at the blood and water streaming down Varick’s wrist.

“Laurent,” Varick said sharply, shaking him a little.

With a low, broken sound, Laurent looked at him.

“Who am I?” Varick murmured.

Laurent’s brow furrowed. “Varick,” he rasped. “You’re…” He drew a deep breath, and his eyes filled with longing. “I love”—he sucked in another breath—“always loved…”