Page 149 of Eternal Ruin

“That’s right,” Susenyos said. “I did, didn’t I? I apologize.”

She raised a wary brow. “You do?”

It was strange how easy it was to become enemies again. Truly dangerous. This version of them had been waiting behind thin curtains, ready to step onto the stage. Depending on which angle Kidan faced, it was difficult to tell if it was their alliance or their hatred that was the performance.

We have to be careful, she thought.It’s too easy to slip into old roles.

Susenyos dragged himself as close to her as he could, so a shaft of light illuminated the true wrath on his face. “I apologize for not killing you that day.”

Kidan stepped back a little, and a line of blue heat extended between them. His was larger, burning hers out, and engulfing the basement.

Oh, he was angry. But the anger wasn’t directed at Kidan. It rested along the crown of her head and cascaded down her shoulders like flames of protection.

They were going to mine Samson for information and then destroy him.

She nearly smiled.

Samson gave a crow’s laugh that interrupted the house, unlocking the gate. “You don’t have to be afraid of him, heiress. Come. I’m going to teach you how we punish those that abandon their friends.”

Kidan’s ears roared as the house echoed with drums, the sound of impending doom. Her insides protested but she commanded herself to remain still.

Samson yanked on Susenyos’s chain so violently there was a devastating shatter of bones. A repressed sound vibrated in Susenyos’s throat and he dropped to the floor, clutching his dislocated shoulder.

Kidan took a sudden step toward him and stopped.

Samson turned to study her, searching for a flicker of emotion. But she’d wiped her expression clean.

The house masked her well.

“Good, heiress.” Samson circled her slowly, angling his head. Their hands joined by a red line of death. “Now we begin.”

For the next several hours, Samson made her hold a lit candle and stand by his side as he read through Susenyos’s scrolls.

“‘Letter to the Immortal,’” he began with a sneer. “‘My life is in tatters. I’ve lost my house in a fire, along with my husband. Please offer me any aid you can. Talia Randle. Virginia, 2014.’”

He fed the letter to the fire, watching it shrivel. Kidan moved when he did. The sight made her ill. She was burning the letter as well, forging a deeper, unwanted connection with him.

That is the point, she told herself.

Susenyos stared at them from the corner of the cellar, clutching his shoulder and breathing heavily. Silent and unforgiving. He pretended so well, Kidan had to keep reminding herself this was all an act.

“All these women… calling for you, asking for your protection. Does it make you feel whole?”

The snarl in Samson’s voice belonged to a wild dog. He opened another scroll and read it, before ripping it in half. The sound of the tear climbed down Kidan’s back, savage and cruel.

“Save one woman, wendem. Save a thousand. It will never make up for what you did.”

Susenyos glanced at the scattered pieces, and a flicker of blue grief surrounded him before he hardened his gaze. “You should have written to me too,” he said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “Then perhaps I would have given you the attention you desperately seek.”

Kidan’s lip quivered at the look of rage possessing Samson. “Heiress. Take that fire to his skin.”

She jerked. “What?”

“Burn him.”

Her fingers shook and she drew the symbol for trust, visualizing the golden thread connected to Samson. It’d become thicker and longer since she’d betrayed Susenyos, but it continued to slip out of reach, still in need of convincing.

“Now.” He narrowed his gaze a little, and the threads flickered, threatening to disappear entirely.