Page 61 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

L ilac’s lungs burned as she stumbled into the night, swallowing the clean air gasp by gasp.

Once the tears from her stinging eyes had allowed her to wipe away most of the soot, she peered down, nose dripping.

The alley below was dark, lit only by the blaze behind them and the lamps on the bustling street to their left.

There was an occasional uproar of laughter and shouting as the drunken denizens filed outside, away from the brothel fire.

The balcony was small and made of rickety wood, probably decades if not centuries old.

There was barely enough room for two people.

She took hold of the banister before her and shook it to check its stability.

It rattled under her touch, and there didn’t seem to be a gate or ladder leading down to the first floor.

Her stomach lurched when Garin’s weight shook the entire structure; his arm slinked around her middle without warning.

She shrieked and clung to him; one moment, he was lifting her, and they were climbing onto the thin banister like large, perching cats.

The next, she was scrambling for purchase against him as they fell into the dark alleyway.

Garin landed soundlessly. Lilac wasn’t so stealthy, jerking with the impact and stumbling out of his arms as he released her. Gasping, she bounced on the cobblestone and fell forward, barely catching herself against the far wall.

She pushed off the rough brick to glare at him, jostled but otherwise unharmed. “You dropped me.”

He was dusting his hands and looking up at the flames now creeping out onto the balcony.

“I was tempted to see how indestructible this bond has made you, seeing as you and I have somehow skipped all the steps,” he said, his words laced with mocking fury even as he gave a lackadaisical shrug.

“I could’ve thrown you off and you’d have lived. Most likely.”

She snarled and marched in the direction of the street, but his arm shot out, catching her by the wrist. In one fluid, gentle motion, he yanked her close, his hands sliding up to her face—to her mask. She batted them away, but Garin’s reflexes were still faster.

Their chests moved as one as he contained her with one hand and grabbed the corner of her mask with the other. She would look ridiculous, the skin where the mask had lain likely cleaner than the rest of her face.

But Garin didn’t seem to think so. His breath hitched as he pulled it off, slinking the string up and above her head, as if he hadn’t truly believed.

As if he were still expecting someone else, after everything.

He tossed the mask aside and his jaw clenched into that infuriating stare of disapproval again.

She’d encouraged a blood exchange, a true deep feeding, because it was the only thing that would stop his hunger—and keep her alive—by granting her this unnameable strength. She hadn’t known it would do this . Her chest heaved in mistrust and betrayal. Had Myrddin known this would happen?

Then again, the only reason they were put in that position in the first place was the carriage crash, and the blood exchange that had begun their uncontrollable need for each other and set them on this course. The crash, where she’d…

Where she’d ?—

Lilac stared down at her hands, imagined them covered in blood. The blood of the emissary she was supposed to meet tomorrow.

She was never supposed to be propositioned by a count. She looked up at Garin, who was watching her with his arms crossed.

“I stabbed Maximilian’s emissary.” Her voice was as unsteady as she felt. “I stabbed Albrecht. I don’t—How did I?— ”

But she trailed off as the corner of his mouth quirked. There was no pity or shock there. Of course, he was not surprised. He’d been there.

“Why do I not remember?” She shut her eyes, rifling through the poor memory he already had of the crash.

The corpses, the pain. The shouting and being stuck in her own body.

She couldn’t recall anything else. There were no true, organic memories of her own—only what she’d seen through Garin’s eyes. “ How? ”

“He told us he came to proposition you for the emperor.”

“I know what he did. I saw it when I drank your blood.”

“And that was your choice, wasn’t it?” He reached out for her slowly, as if not to spook her.

Lilac was well past that. She moved out of his reach, her chest aching, thinking of the vision of her father’s study that had flashed before her eyes when she’d bit his hand. The way she couldn’t conjure even the faintest memory of sinking the blade into the emissary’s chest.

What had she felt in that moment? Why she’d done it was obvious, but stabbing him? Guilt and pride warred in her, knowing she’d do it again.

Covered in blood and soot, his hair ruffling in the slight breeze scattering leaves through the alleyway, Garin was gazing at her unremorsefully. It was the first time tonight where his eyes were not shadowed by that overpowering hunger.

In fact, she noted, taking a curious step closer—they were gray again.

“Did you kill him?” she asked, remembering the vision of him bounding after the emissary.

“No,” he said curtly. “I saved him. I saved him so your country wouldn’t be demolished by Maximilian’s army, as it would be if he ever found out the queen of Brittany stabbed his dignitary to death.”

“Where is he now?”

“Safe at the inn. Kept away from you until your meeting, where you cannot harm him and preemptively destroy your allied relations.”

She couldn’t contain the shock and hurt any longer; the confusion would soon overwhelm her. Lilac spoke slowly, the words simmering off her tongue. “Why don’t I remember?”

“Myrddin helped me.”

Lilac stared at him, her jaw slack in disgust. “You had Myrddin remove my memory? ”

“You would have regretted it.”

Lilac spat a laugh. “You do not care about the things I might come to regret. It was and is my only proposition. My killing him would have ensured I did not marry,” she said, speaking through her own reasoning. And his. “This went against your own interests.”

Garin’s expression darkened. “I was protecting you.”

Knowing he was a fucking liar, that she wouldn’t have known about any of it if she hadn’t swallowed his blood, made everything he said all the more difficult to believe. Her parents had claimed Albrecht’s letter was received three days into her journey.

The crash and stabbing had occurred on the first full day.

“Turning a count down would have been far too easy for me, wouldn’t it?” she shouted. “You knew it was not enough to sway me, even under your entrancement. You wrote to my parents, didn’t you?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. Garin picked an invisible piece of dust off his collar. “Fortunately, the fellow carried a bundle of their official stationery in his satchel.”

Sickness and dread overtook her. “You wanted me to believe it was Albrecht coming to propose to me. You made no attempt to mention Maximilian at all.”

Garin jabbed a finger in her direction. “Precisely, Lilac. Do you know why? Catching you off guard was the only way you and your parents would end up hearing Maximilian’s offer.

He is the most powerful ally you have on the continent.

Henri and Marguerite would never let you pass it up, but if you knew it was Maximilian offering marriage, you would have bolted.

Wouldn’t you?” He bent his head, condescending.

“I might write your dear parents again, telling them of how you’re about to throw everything away for?—”

Garin stopped.

He froze, frowning. Listening. Garin’s face then twisted, lips curling around his fangs in a snarl as he turned.

Casmir stepped out of the shadows from behind him.

The vampire said nothing, made no noise before bringing his closed fist in front of his face.

At first, Lilac thought he was drawing back to hit Garin.

The scream that stuck in her throat released into a large palm that clamped down over her mouth.

The familiar aroma of tombstone and iron flooded her nostrils .

Casmir opened his fist and blew, sending a cloud of brown dust into the air—into Garin’s face, the scant remnants drifting over her and her assailant.

Lilac instinctively shielded her eyes. Nothing happened to her that she could feel, but Bastion yelped, his hands sliding off her face. He held onto her, tugging her body in his recoil, yanking her off her feet.

“Fuck’s sake, Casmir!” Bastion growled from over her shoulder.

But it seemed the powder had mildly affected Casmir too. He shook his palm, dusting it frantically against his lapel and scuttling back.

“I’ll kill you!” Garin choked on the dark dust, his eyes shut and drool dripping from his open mouth as he snarled and grabbed for Casmir, who easily dodged him. Even in the dim light, she could tell there was something wrong. Blood was running down Garin’s face, from both his eyes and nostrils.

It was sawdust. Hawthorn sawdust.

Garin lunged blindly and slammed Casmir against the opposite wall. A flurry of soot and dust rained down. Casmir grabbed hold of him and yanked Garin sideways, pummeling his head against the wall.

“ Stop it ,” Lilac cried as they grappled, nearly breaking free from Bastion’s loosened hold on her.

There was a pop and cloud of thin smoke between them, followed by the scent of black powder; Myrddin stood between her and Garin, frantically fumbling in his robes.

Bastion caught her then, and wrapped his arm around her once more, this time much too tightly for her to throw herself from his grasp.

They watched in horror as Myrddin threw what appeared to be a ball of leaf-dappled vines in Garin’s direction; the moment the vines made contact with Garin’s body, they snapped across him, pulling his arms behind his back and ensnaring his wrists.

The same happened around his ankles with the toss of a second ball of vines.

“Hold him still,” Myrddin shouted at Casmir, hand outstretched.