Page 61 of A Steeping of Blood (Blood and Tea #2)
JIN
Jin was undead, but he’d never once in his life felt more alive. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t kissed Flick before. He had missed her, yes, she was beautiful, yes, but the knowledge that he could have lost her as he’d lost his parents today was what made him realize how much he cared for her.
Loved her.
Bloody wicked knives, man.
And he was angry. It roiled beneath his skin, rising every time he blinked and saw the purple-and-green bruises on Flick’s arms, now hidden beneath ribbons of bandages.
The Ram had hurt her. Worse, she had made her feel as though she were ruined, less than.
Useless. Just when Jin had thought he couldn’t loath the monarch any more than he already did.
As they squeezed through the Athereum’s tunnel, he was grateful for the cold air that struck him like a blow.
He could barely think as Matteo relayed the address of the Horned Guard minister he knew to Sidharth’s driver.
The three of them climbed into the carriage, and Flick sat beside him, a vision against the moody reds and purples of the carriage interior.
“I never thought we’d be meeting the Council,” Matteo said, leaning back.
Jin didn’t know if he wanted to. He reached for the calling card in his pocket, an odd, weighted coin.
It was rounded, compared to the Athereum marker, the shape reminding him of a piece of candy.
Only this was metal, a dull, brushed gold with an engraved C in its center.
Why had his father given it to Arthie and not him?
Did he not think Jin was as capable as Arthie?
Don’t be silly; you know you aren’t.
“Flick can’t forge,” Jin said as the carriage trundled along. “So we’re going to have to convince them to join our side.”
Matteo looked skeptical. “They’re the Council. I doubt they can be convinced of anything.”
“Oh, but they haven’t met me,” Jin said with only half his usual charm, suddenly wishing Arthie were here. “And then we’re going to get Arthie. I don’t care that she doesn’t want to be rescued. I’m not losing her too.”
“She’s likely in the Ram’s bunker,” Flick said.
“The Ram tried getting answers out of me. About the ledger, your whereabouts, and—and Arthie’s pistol, strangely.
I tried not to divulge that you were even alive, but it seems she got what she wanted out of me anyway.
I knew she would ambush you at the docks, so I was waiting there to warn you, but some good that did. ”
“It’s all right,” Jin said softly, and took one of her hands in his, holding it steady as the carriage hit a bump in the road. He clenched his jaw tight at the sight of her bandages. Should he not have given her the brass knuckles and a teapot full of advice?
“I—” He broke off with a cold, hard laugh. “She risked her life to save them, did you know? She braved going back to her homeland to save them, and we made an entire, now-useless journey to have them die the moment we return.”
“The voyage wasn’t useless,” Matteo reminded him gently. “We rescued nearly a hundred vampires. We ruined the Ceylani trade route, and really, we did save your parents. They died as Ettenians, not prisoners, and they got to see that their son is alive and well, even if undead.”
“They died with hope,” Flick added. “Something they did not have for a decade.”
Did they? Jin would never know for certain. He’d lived a decade wishing they were alive, only to see them die.
“They were supposed to help with Arthie’s plan,” he said softly.
“We’ll figure it out, starting with the Council.
And if we could free a sanatorium full of vampires, armed with Flick’s findings, we can do the same to the people in that cage, turned or not.
Then we will ruin her,” Matteo replied as the carriage turned, and then winced, as if he’d forgotten Flick. “I’m sorry.”
She rested her arms gingerly in her lap. “You don’t have to be. She’s not my mother anymore.”
She was sure of herself and the words. There wasn’t a hint of remorse on her face, not a flicker of sorrow or regret. No, at some point after Jin and the others had left for Ceylan, Felicity Linden had broken free of the mold her mother had shoved her inside. She was her own person.
The carriage rolled to a halt. Night had fallen, and Jin could only hope the Horned Guard minister hadn’t left for the day. Or the Council for that matter, however they worked. The driver opened the carriage door, and Jin was surprised to find them parked in front of a tavern. A shabby one at that.
“Are you sure we have the right place?” Flick asked, eyeing the seedy establishment.
“Spindrift is turning in her grave,” Jin murmured.
THE brOODING TURNIP , a sorry sign read, but the letters were fading. It was small, but even from their spot across the street, Jin could hear the raucous crowd within. He would not expect Matteo to know anyone who frequented the place.
“It’s seen better days,” Matteo admitted. “Shall we?”