Page 12

K IDAN RUSHED THROUGH THE OTHER ROOMS, TURNING THEM INSIDE out, venturing downstairs to a creepy wine cellar and a wide empty space containing training mats and equipment that seemed unused, dust flying everywhere when she shifted them.

Back upstairs, she found one door locked. A red tapestry of a lion hung on it, adjacent to the crackling study.

In the kitchen, she found their house cook, an aged woman with gray streaks in her Afro who smelled like sourdough bread.

“Ah, there you are.” The woman smiled, flour on her cheek. “I’m Ruth, but everyone calls me Etete. It’s so nice to have you here.”

Kidan ground her jaw. What was this woman doing in a place like this?

“I’d like to go into the room with the lion decoration on it, but it’s locked.” Kidan’s voice was unfriendly.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the key.” Etete frowned. “Susenyos has it.”

“What’s inside?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Where does he keep the key?”

“Around his neck.”

Kidan swore internally. Even if she shrank into an insect and tried to lift his key, he’d sense her and snap her neck. Kidan returned to those wavy brass handles and could swear she heard June tap-tapping at the wood, calling with fear.

Kidan lasted exactly two minutes.

She hurried to the weed-infested garden shed and brought out an axe, dragging it in front of the red-lion door. She blew out a breath, tied her braids back, and wrapped her hands around the handle.

“Acti Kidan!” Etete came rushing in. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t have the key.”

“Wait, you can’t possibly—”

Kidan swung, gravity pulling her fast and hard until a sharp resistance vibrated in her shoulders. She missed the door handle, and the axe wedged into russet wood.

Kidan glanced back. Etete stared in mild shock, hand on her chest.

“You should leave,” Kidan told her as she yanked the axe out of the door.

If Kidan found anything related to June, this axe would find an outlet. She didn’t want this woman’s blood on her hands.

Etete shook her head, muttering prayers under her breath before returning to the kitchen.

This time, Kidan hit the door handle with a perfect snap . The gold metal flew past her ear and landed somewhere in the study. Raw satisfaction pulsed through her. Her arms ached and her breathing picked up, but she had the urge to do it again.

The past few days had been out of her control, as if she’d been swept out to the open sea without a paddle. Well, she had her paddle now.

She kicked the door open and dragged her weapon inside. Cold pinched at her nose instantly, fogging her breath. It was pitch-black. Her thoughts jumped to the worst possible conclusion. A morgue. Why else would this room have the temperature of ice? Would she see June’s dead body displayed just like the night she was taken? Brown skin drained of color, delicate lips painted in blood?

Heart drumming, she reached for the light switch, bracing herself. Night gave way to rows of shelves that reached the ceiling and across the floor—filled not with bodies, but with things once used by them.

Kidan passed by a delicate armband with an ancient inscription, a crown crushed as if the owner had been decapitated, a lock of braided hair. The opposite side held the clothes of royalty, embroidered with crosses and diamond shapes. Sandals from another time period, and animal-hide musical instruments she’d never seen before.

Artifacts.

This was his secret? Under any other circumstances, Kidan would’ve picked up a few to admire their features, working out how to bend them into something else.

But June wasn’t here. All interest from her fingers melted into rage. Kidan lifted her axe and smashed an arrangement of pottery with intricate designs. The pieces flew around the vast room like confetti. She swung again. An entire row of trinkets collided into one another and exploded off the shelves. She took down two more shelves, shouting, grunting at the effort.

The crushed crown rolled near her feet, and she lifted it, placing it on her head. It was pure metal, uncomfortable, but the spikes were beautiful, gold crosses with ruby detailing. She caught her reflection in an embellished mirror, a slip of a smile present.

Then she stilled. At the end of the space was a stunning portrait of a goddess. A dark-skinned woman in a cracked mask with twin swords at her back. Light radiated off her, blinding and mighty. The woman’s eyes pierced the wooden slit and stirred mutiny in Kidan. It was as if she echoed all the pain and anger bubbling under her skin. In a satisfying slash, Kidan cut into the canvas, ripping it.

It was small, petty even, but she savored the destruction of this room. It was nothing compared with what he’d taken from her, but if any of this meant something to him, it satiated her thirst.

She took the crown with her. It felt personal, a history tied to it, and she’d always enjoyed collecting things that reminded her of life.

Then she called Dean Faris and told her about June’s bracelet.

Dean Faris was quiet for a long time before saying, “I will investigate.”

Just hours ago, the woman had refused to believe Susenyos had taken June. This was progress.

Kidan took the crown to her vanity and began the tedious work of snapping each metal cross with scissors. It was tough gold and took some sawing back and forth, cutting her soft flesh in the process, but when it broke, a smile touched her lips.

Once she disassembled the crown, she found a necklace chain and looped each cross through it. Kidan would continue to take what Susenyos found precious and gift it to her poor sister once she found her.

She showered, almost relaxing for the first time in a while. She even hummed a little tune as she changed and grabbed her aunt’s journal, snacking on a plate of chechebsa. Instead of leaving as instructed, Etete—with a stern expression on her face—had brought a bowl of fried cut-up flatbread glistening with spiced butter. “If you plan to survive here, you’ll need your strength. Eat.”

Kidan had planned to refuse, but the rich peppery scent had her mouth watering. Her tastebuds were desperate for something other than noodles. So here she was, mouth on fire, feeling an unwanted sense of guilt and gratitude, reading her aunt’s words. There were some connections she needed to follow before the university semester started, specifically how the houses had contributed to June’s disappearance. How they worked with him.

From the loud string of foreign curse words floating up to her room, Kidan knew Susenyos Sagad had discovered his artifact room had been desecrated.

Her smile grew pure, and she put away her things before going downstairs. She wasn’t going to miss the show.

Susenyos had thrown his coat off, loose shirt rolled up at the sleeves as he waded through the mess. Kidan rested on the stair rail, watching every frame of displeasure on his face. The pinched eyebrows, the barely restrained curl of his lips. It was all so lovely.

His eyes swept upward, his hand around a broken chalice, and bore into hers. He stalked toward the stairs, chest rising and falling. She settled on the steps, shaking her head at the room.

“Who would do something like this?” She batted her lashes.

He loomed over her, a vein throbbing along his dark temple. From her low angle, she noticed how effortlessly he dented the chalice with his grip. She wished he’d lay that hand on her, to give her an excuse to throw him out of this house and into prison to rot.

“You don’t know what you’ve destroyed,” he breathed out, voice thick. “That portrait was invaluable.”

Kidan was careful to look at the room. Let him stew. His breathing became ragged the longer she ignored him, then evened out at once.

“Your family would be ashamed of you.”

This made her turn sharply and glare at his taut jaw.

“An Adane daughter that doesn’t value history. You’re quite a disgrace to your family, aren’t you?”

Kidan shot to her feet and spat. “Don’t fucking talk to me about my family.”

The venom of her words slipped off him without impact. His eyes were bright, cruel. “Truly, I’m glad they all died before they could see what you’ve become.”

Kidan slapped him. The contact snapped something inside her ribs, a sudden awakening of the monster hidden within.

He’d said “all.” They’d all died, including June. Was that a confession? Had he killed June?

Susenyos touched his cheek, rolling his tongue. And Kidan’s victory drained away. He’d tricked her into harming him first.

“Where is the crown?” he demanded.

How did he notice it was missing so quickly?

“Where is June’s bracelet?” She flexed, fisted, and flexed her fingers again, trying to shake out the energy that seeped into them.

His hand shot forward and she flinched, but he restrained himself, forcing himself to grab the rail instead, leaning in to whisper.

“The dean told me the girl ran away, and now I understand. To have you as a sister must be true hell.”

Kidan’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her tongue dried up. He’d pulled free a nightmare she had tucked away and forced her to face the question of why June’s bags and clothes had been packed that night.

Her loathing made her entire body shake. The light bulb above them flickered. His eyes slid to a point on her neck, darkening with hunger. She touched it unconsciously, breaking his gaze. He reached into his chest pocket, pulled out a golden flask, and drank. The change in his features was sudden. The ends of his hair bled red, and his pupils caught light, scattering it so it hurt to look directly at him.

Kidan staggered back, voice tight. “What… is that?”

“This is your lifeline. As long as I have this, I won’t bite into that lovely neck of yours.” He eyed her collarbone, making her shiver.

Kidan’s breath gathered speed.

Finally, he stepped back, smiling. “If you want to play the game of ruins, let’s play. I’ve never lost it.”

Her forefinger rapidly drew the four corners of a square against her thigh.

Fear.

But for whom? It was a startling revelation that Kidan could still feel fear for her body. She balled up her fingers painfully as if to expunge the emotion out of herself. She couldn’t fear. Kidan had to eradicate all evil. It was this morality that allowed her to rise from bed at all and function with the weight of what she’d committed. Eradicate all evil—including herself.

Only companions offered their blood to vampires. Did Susenyos have a companion from another house? She wasn’t sure and needed to research more into their customs.

Susenyos spent the rest of the night with gloves and a powerful chemical that smelled, restoring what he could of every shattered artifact like a surgeon. The care with which he pieced together each frame boiled Kidan’s blood. She was disgusted at how he cared for inanimate objects so intimately. But this was a sign of malice, she realized, touching her victim’s butterfly bracelet. Objects gave evil beings more pleasure than those who once wore them. She shook herself free of the thought. She didn’t want to draw parallels between him and her, but she also needed to. He’d taken June; she’d taken the life of a human being. Loathing him meant loathing herself, and killing him would mean killing herself. So when the time came, Kidan had to be strong enough. They both had to die.

Her shoulders unwound in her room, and she fell asleep the moment she touched her bed.

Then, at precisely twelve, the house trembled. Her eyes flew open. The phone jittered on her bedstand as if the tectonic plates below the house were shifting. She bolted upright.

A wretched scream came from the slit beneath her door.

Help!