Page 38

That confirmed it.

Viggo knew something that I didn't, and this Majandra person knew something as well.

How in the hell does a Blood Whore know something about me that I don't?

This isn't right... It shouldn't be possible!

"Now, what do I do about you?" Majandra mused from next to me.

If it would have been possible, I would have attacked because of her sudden proximity.

But I didn't.

Don't kill me would have been my first suggestion.

"You truly are an interesting child," she commented. "So powerful and yet completely unaware of it, and the irony is not lost on me."

Does she know I can hear her, or does she just like to hear herself talk?

And powerful?

Obviously, she is drunk.

I vividly recall Viggo comparing me to a damn chaton in combat arts before I broke his nose for calling me a kitten...

Then I apologized for breaking his nose.

Majandra pulled her fingers down my face and along the slope of my nose. "Something bad is coming if Little Flea needs protection from Light, something I know you are solely responsible for," she said.

Wait, what?

Majandra leaned into me, and her warm breath washed across the side of my face from her proximity. "I promised Little Flea to keep my mouth shut, but I warn you now, Ariadne Neema Geela Li; if you hurt him, I will kill you. I have lost too much already to lose anymore, especially because of you and your fucking bloodline. Do you understand? I will kill you and make sure they can never bring you back."

Okay.

This just got a lot more complicated and terrifying.

Being threatened by a whore?

That's bad.

But the whore knowing my full birth name?!

That's just not right.

Even Zane never used my full birth name, just as I never used his... He didn't even remember my name was Ariadne until Viggo reminded him of it! Our parents don't even use our full names when pissed at us.

There is way too much power in a name to wield a name openly in the world of magic, and only those you truly, full-heartedly trust, would know your full name because of the power in a name.

Viggo had some serious explaining to do, and I'm not taking his half-assed attempt at distracting me as a deterrent this time. Come hell or high water, he was going to tell me what was going on.

"This will most certainly hurt, but it is nothing you cannot handle," she warned.

What's going to hurt?

A strong pulling sensation ripped through my body, but it wasn't my physical body that was being pulled.

It felt as if someone was pulling my soul from my body.

The pulling and shoving sensation was comparable to sutures being yanked onto the millionth power.

"That is some very nasty damage to your pelvic region," Majandra said as if she could see through my body. "That injury is three years old or more, so you did that when you were... Oh, I cannot fault you for that," she whispered. "I will take care of it, on the house even."

Take care of what?

An unimaginable pressure in my lower abdomen flared causing pain that was comparable to when I fell out of the tree when I was younger. The pressure was pushed downward to my pelvic girdle as if someone was controlling it, and it resonated against my coccyx before moving to the sacrum, traveling up along the lumbar before the pressure rippled away from my spinal cord and was absorbed into the surrounding muscle and tissue.

I'm going to kill you for this!

There was a strong hollow thump in the center of my chest before the pulling and tugging sensation returned to my soul. I saw, behind my closed eyelids, a blue and gold glowing manifestation of the two souls that created mine. They were protectively wrapped around a humming amethyst and silver glowing line that was most likely my soul, and they were being pulled away from my body and stretched across the darkness, my soul illuminating the area in light...

It was soft amethyst and silver luminescence instead of blue and gold.

"Now, to deal with your soul... What in the hell is that?" Majandra mumbled when the blue and gold stretched farther, thinning out, and when it did, a darkened shadow started slithering out from between the amethyst and silver illuminated threads. "Oh, o anipsiós mou, you poor child," she whispered with an unfamiliar accent.

What is that thing?!

"Non sic dormit, sed vigilat," Majandra chanted.

It didn't take a genius to know that this was going to hurt, just as she said it would.

But I had a sneaking suspicion she was going to make it hurt more than it needed to.

"Damnatio memoriae," Majandra chanted, continuing to stretch my soul out, thinning it more and more as it went. "Iucunda memoria est praeteritorum malorum."

As she said those words, the black recoiled with a hiss.

"Non sic dormit, sed vigilat," she repeated with authority and power. "Iucunda memoria est praeteritorum malorum."

When it felt as though the hair-thin nerves that were connecting my soul to my body were about to break, losing my soul forever, it recoiled, snapping back at me.

The force caused my eyes to shoot open and I sat up, gasping for air.

My vision was blurred by the tears flooding my eyes, it was a struggle to catch my breath, and my head felt as if iron nails were being driven into it causing me to lean over and violently throw up.

"I should have seen that coming," the unfamiliar female said from the other side of me.

Sentinel training kicked in and I scrambled away from her, slipping and falling out of the tub of mud I had been in, sliding across the vomit and mud-covered floor.

"Don't touch me," I warned, backing away from her in a low crouch.

It took a moment, but when my eyes finally adjusted, they focused on the beautiful creature—of course, she'd be beautiful—that was looking at me overly amused. Her black hair was pulled back with a crown of curls cascading over one shoulder that went down to her waist, full lips were painted a deep shade of red, and her large light jade-green eyes were surrounded in thick black lashes and were moving over me, appraisingly. Her complexion was flawless, dark olive that made her look exotic, features undeniably feminine with high rounded cheekbones, jaw wide, and longer nose...

She was very Greek-looking.

There was something strikingly familiar about her mouth; the top lip was overly full compared to the bottom, causing her cupid's bow to seemingly disappear.

Majandra smiled at me, her brilliant white smile reflecting the soft light from the candles in the room. She was dressed in a black and dark purple Victorian Gothic-styled dress; the corset pulled painfully tight causing her cleavage to spill over the top, her long black skirt with slits up the sides showing her long, toned legs, ended with black stiletto high heels that looked as painful as the corset she wore.

"Where am I?" I demanded.

"You are safe," she assured me. "I am Madame Majandra, and this is my home, specifically, my private bed chamber. Prince de Babineaux informed me of the situation at the Academy and I graciously offered the use of my private healing services. Your brother, friends, Imperial Guard, and Prince de Babineaux are enjoying dinner with my girls. You may join them once you are presentable."

I was only half paying attention; I was studying the room and layout in case I needed to escape.

"Well?" she pressed.

"Los Angeles's full name is El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los ángeles de Porciuncula and can be abbreviated to 3.63% of its size: L.A.," I blurted out, looking around the strange bedroom but for an entirely different reason now.

When someone tells you their name is Madame anything, and she is a dominatrix in your mind, you don't picture a French country-inspired bedroom with whitewashed oak furniture, lavender-colored walls, and floral bedding...

I didn't like it, but it was better than what I was picturing in my head because that image had bondage racks, whips, chains, and ball gags, not to mention an impressive collection of sex toys displayed.

Her head tilted to the side. "Excuse me, what?" she asked.

"Odontophobia is the fear of teeth," I said before I bared my teeth and growled.

Majandra chuckled. "Ah, I remember now. You randomly spew factoids when you are nervous or agitated. It has been a long time. Would you care for a shower? The mud will not harm you since I have turned off its healing properties, but you are getting mud all over my floor."

How does she know that and why is she acting as if she knows me?

"Do I know you?" I asked.

A smile was her only response.

That was oh so helpful, just like Viggo.

"I did get your floor dirty with mud and puke," I said, looking around at the mud and smeared vomit all over the hardwood floors.

I was only vaguely aware of the fact that I was in front of her completely naked, only a thin layer of mud covering my body.

"You did, but I will have it cleaned up. Shall we?" Majandra asked, motioning towards a wood door on the far wall.

I looked between her and the door.

I didn't trust her or this.

As if she could read my mind, she smiled then headed over to the door, and opened it.

Inside was a bathroom.

"Prince de Babineaux unequivocally trusts me, does that mean nothing to you?" Majandra asked.

"You just threatened to kill me," I reminded her.

The slim hope I had of catching her off guard quickly diminished when she smiled.

"Because I will," Majandra promised me. "I am not entirely sure that you deserve him or ever have, and regardless of your pedigree, the fact you are here needing my assistance with healing strongly suggests you are not strong enough to be able to protect him. However, after seeing your soul, I now know things are not as they seem and I need to remember that."

"Excuse me?"

Majandra sighed, shaking her head. "It does not matter," she said, sounding uninterested in continuing the conversation. "I will get you something to wear and send someone up to escort you to dinner. Please refrain from attacking them."

Eloquently she strolled from the room, leaving me standing there naked and covered in mud.

"Thanks," I called out, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Could this get any weirder?

With my lack of luck, this was only the beginning of the weirdness.