Page 125 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

“Who? Tell me who, and I’ll make sure they stay in my underground alive for as long as you wish for me to play with them.”

“He’s been taken care of. But thank you for the offer.” She stroked the wobbly lines making up the drawing of their house.“I’m telling you this because you have to ask yourselves if you can trust everyone around you. I thought I could. But I don’t know anymore. Anyone we have smuggled out of Ardaton could be another traitor, waiting for the right occasion to jump us. If not, they could be feeding information about us to them. And we wouldn’t know.”

“Shit.” I was glad I wasn’t holding the cup anymore or I would've shattered the ceramic.

“Exactly.”

“There is something you should know too.” I rested my elbows on my thighs. The strap holding my sheathed knife tightened around my upper arm, and the pinch brought back the memory. “We had a similar situation. About two months ago, a soldier from Ilasall came, also during the night. He tried to kill Gedeon and left messages in my and Kali’s rooms to show that they knew who we were.”

“They’re testing us.” Damia rose and dusted off her clothes. “I have to warn Conall to be ready. He’ll be next. Coriattus won’t spare them.”

“If the city comes after the four of them, then it’s a pattern.” Two might have been a coincidence, but three was a certainty.

She gathered our cups and spilled my unfinished tea on the grass. The liquid flooded the dying plants, ensuring their end. “And that’s how it begins.”

41

KALI

Forest dew soaking my pants cast shivers to race up my spine.

Winter was soon to begin. Though true cold, like the sparkling-in-the-sun white dotting the hills and mountains in the pictures I’d seen in the black market books, was not a constant here. Seldomly, we’d get an inch of snow. The tiny ice crystals would instantly melt away, coating the streets in a porridge of mud, but watching the large snowflakes twirl in a flurry through the window in my apartment at Ilasall had been the rare moments of peace I could find in the confines of the city.

But things had changed. A single thought about the seven letters forming the name of the trap I’d spent my entire life in up until I ended up here awakened my nausea.

Sitting cross-legged in the clearing in the woods near our compound, I fixed my jacket and flicked dirt off my sweatpants. I should’ve worn jeans. Or that pair of leather pants Jayla kept trying to talk me into buying.

“How are you doing?” I asked Malaya, gazing at the night sky full of stars, some brighter than others, yet all shimmering peacefully together. As if the gods had sensed her need for support and paused their war, ignoring me and flickering in a pattern that lured Malaya’s smile out.

And they were as uncommon as snow in winter. For the last two months, she’d kept herself aside from everyone. She’d mentioned she enjoyed cooking, so we got her a job in our common kitchen, and she spent most of her time there, alone, for hours after closing.

It cracked my stone-cased heart.

So when I’d found myself in her safe place in search of dinner for tonight and caught her hovering by the window and observing people swarming the street outside like bees, I had to do something.

“I’m okay.” Malaya tucked her straight blonde hair behind her ear. “Thank you for bringing me here. I can see why you like it so much.”

“I guessed you would.” I nudged her. “But to be honest, I brought you here for two reasons.”

“Two? You said you just wanted to show me the clearing.” She hurriedly scooched a foot away from me, her eyes widening. “Are you planning to do something to me?”

“No, no! I’m not going to doanythingto you.” Alarm bells ringing in my head halted my need to physically soothe her. What the hell had her assigned partner in Ilasall done to her besides starvation? I stuck my hands under my thighs to ease the itch and mentally cringed at the sensation of wet mud coating my skin in a slimy layer. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I simply meant I wanted to ask you a question. That’s the second reason.”

Quiet, she plucked a grass blade and tied it into a knot, pointedly avoiding looking up at me.

“You know, you remind me of someone who was very close to me. Someone I suspect I might have loved. I see parts of her in you.” I attempted to mimic her movements and ripped the grass blade to shreds in the process. Gentleness was not something I excelled at. “You have that same kindness. Like you couldn’t hurt a fly, even if it bit you in the ass.”

“I’d like to see such a fly.” She laughed softly, and the sound of it smoothed the cuts her fear of my intentions had left beneath my rib cage.

“Malaya, I have to ask.” Damp grass tickled my palm as it hovered above the blades. A sudden whim, and I could crush them down to nothing. They wouldn’t even detect it coming. “What’s wrong? It feels like we’re losing you.”

She fiddled with the sleeve of her dark blue coat, her fluttering lashes practically transparent.

“What is it?” I searched her heart-shaped face, so young and innocent. Yet so haunted. “You know I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Including me.”

“I don’t want the baby,” she admitted so quietly I almost missed it.

“That’s it?” Stupid laughter threatened to burst out of me. “We’re not Ilasall, Malaya. We don’t operate based on their laws and rules.” I reached out and, with her permission, rubbed her hands between mine to warm them up, hoping it would also smooth out the wrinkles incredulity had drawn on her forehead. “You’re not the first and not the last to not want to raise a child. Whether from Ilasall or not.”