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She blinked at him, and some of that cruelty seemed to vanish from her eyes. He reached out and eased her hand from the dagger hilt, her fingers freezing in his own. Her eyes seemed to clear as they focused on his. She studied him, then looked down at Nuri still beneath her.

She uncoiled to her feet, leaving the dagger in Nuri’s arm, pinning her to the floor. “I will send word when I hear from him. Until then, do not come near me. If something happens, send a messenger.”

She stepped over Nuri and walked across the room. Her hand on the door handle, she turned and looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Sorin’s. Smoke and ash seemed to swirl across her icy blue eyes. “Who is the woman?”

Sorin remained crouched by Nuri. He didn’t say a word.

“Then you can continue to stay the hell away from me, too. Maybe Death’s Shadow and a lying Fae bastard will find they have something in common.”

She opened the door and left, Cassius grabbing her cloak and following her out.

Their footsteps faded, and after a moment, Nuri hissed from beneath her hood, “You should really tell her. It would make everything so much easier.”

Sorin reached out and wrenched the dagger from her forearm. She cried out as it slid free from her arm, and he swore at the heat of the hilt. It was as though it had been sitting in a fire itself. Burning his palm, it clattered to the floor.

Nuri struggled to a sitting position beside him and before she could stop him, he ripped her hood back. A face as pale as moonlight with honey-colored eyes stared back,a wicked grin of ecstasy greeting him. “Show me,” he demanded.

“Whatever do you mean?” Nuri asked sweetly. She made to stand, but Sorin slammed his hand over the wound in her arm. She sucked in a breath of pain.

“Show me.” His voice was lethal.

Nuri glared at him, then grinned wide as fangs slid from their sheaths in her gums.

“Do they know?”

“Cassius and Scarlett?”

Sorin nodded.

“No. They know I am…something other like they suspect about themselves, but they do not know I am one of the Night Children,” she spat quietly.

“And how did one of the Night Children end up in the mortal lands, so far from her own?” Sorin asked, reaching for the dagger again. The hilt seemed to have cooled enough to handle, and he picked it up.

“How did any of the children of the Black Syndicate end up here?” she asked bitterly. “None of us know. We are just unwanted and discarded with nowhere else to go.”

“How did you know who I am? That I am from Fire Court? Did Scarlett tell you?” Sorin asked, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

“She has told me nothing of you. I told you two nights ago, I am privy to much information you think no one here knows. What are you doing?”

She was watching him intently as he angled the dagger over his now bare forearm. “You are injured,” he said with a pointed glance to her arm. He sliced a line down it while she watched. Her eyes glazed over with hunger, her pupils dilating, as she watched the blood flow from the gash, and they flashed up to his as he held out his arm to her. “Drink. Heal. And then you have much to tell me, Daughter of Night.”

“Magic does not work here. You know that,” Nuri replied.

“Fae blood is different. You will see.”

She brought her hands to his arm. Then her fangs were in his flesh as she drank the blood from the gash he’d cut.He winced slightly when her fangs drove in farther, but his mind was not on the vampyre feeding from his arm. It was on the female who had just played ancient songs of grief and sorrow on his piano for nearly three hours. It was on the one who moved like someone trained not by thieves and assassins, but trained by a Night Child and a Fae warrior who fought like a Witch. It was on Scarlett as she had crooned, ‘You let me out, but who shall rein me back in?’And the vampyre’s words in response— ‘That is why I made sure he was here.’

CHAPTER 19

SCARLETT

Just because she wasn’t training with Sorin didn’t mean Scarlett didn’t keep up with her own training. No, if she was going to start messing around with Callan and whatever was going on in the Black Syndicate again, she needed to be at the top of her game. Not to mention the Assassin Lord had sent anotherreminderto complete her task, or he would hold true to his word.

She forced herself to get up just as early and run. She made herself do strength exercises and pushed herself as if Sorin were there. She snuck down to the training barracks with Cassius often, and she decided to add archery to her training schedule. She was more than skilled with a bow, but it had been a while since she’d devoted any time to the craft. Her upper body strength had definitely improved, especially in her arms, so she wanted to become acquainted with a heavier bow.

Ideally, she would have practiced at the Fellowship, but she hadn’t had any desire to step foot in the Black Syndicate and risk running into the Assassin Lord. Not until she had completed her assignment. There were archery grounds out behind the manor though, so that was where she trudged. Several targets of varying sizes and distance adorned the space.

It was early evening, the sun just starting to set, a few weeks following that night in Sorin’s apartment. She was returning from retrieving the arrows she’d just shot with near perfect accuracy. The air was hot and muggy, as it always was at the end of summer. She was nearly back to the shooting line when she found him waiting for her. She came to a stop a few yards away, her hand going to her hip, glaring at him.