Page 19

Q AROS H OUSE HELD ITSELF WITH THE ATTITUDE OF A WELL-DRESSED butler. Kidan’s footsteps echoed on the marble, cold snaking up her spine. Inside the large living room, rich wooden musical instruments drenched in polished wax were arranged neatly. Kidan felt a pang of disconnect—music held history, tradition, particular to a country and identity she’d lost.

The Mot Zebeya, Slen Qaros, and… Ramyn Ajtaf occupied one side of an oval table. Kidan’s lungs expanded with relief. The girl hadn’t been drained to death.

Ramyn was alive.

On the opposite side of the table, a handsome boy in a burnt-yellow shirt and dark vest, his sleeves rolled up, was consumed by something on the page in front of him. Holding a charcoal pencil with soot-stained fingers, he was lost in his drawing.

Slen lifted her chin to Kidan. “The Myths book?”

Kidan had searched the bookshelf of the study but hadn’t found it. “I’m working on it.”

Slen nodded and looked around the table. “Introduce yourselves quickly. We have a lot to do.”

No one spoke. Kidan slid a glance to Ramyn’s chipped nails and bruised collarbone. What was the best way to ask “What the hell were you doing in the vampires’ designated building?”

Nothing came to mind.

Ramyn popped in a raspberry candy and offered one with a warm smile. Kidan took it and suppressed a sigh, enjoying the girl’s kindness a little longer. Because once Kidan interrogated her, Ramyn wouldn’t speak to her again.

Her bracelet burned her wrist. Look what happened to the last person you interrogated.

Her mouth filled with the taste of burnt skin, and she fought a gag.

“Hello? I said introduce yourselves.” Slen waved at the handsome boy.

His house sigil twinkled on his chest: two logs burning with a blue flame shaped into a woman dancing. Beautiful. Slen must have kicked him, because he jolted, blinking as if just noticing them.

“Yusef Umil, everyone. I like long walks on the beach and bad girls that ride motorcycles. Hobbies include failing Dranacti two times, so if you’re anxious, remember you’re never as anxious as me.”

Ramyn’s smile faltered. “You really failed two times?”

“It was racism, really,” he joked.

Kidan regarded him curiously. Yusef Umil. His father, Omar Umil, was currently held in Drastfort Prison. What did it feel like to be a murderer’s son? Had his father’s darkness leaked into him? It must leave a deep stain.

“What else?” he continued, thick brows furrowed. “I’m told I have one good hour in me each day to produce quality work. Unfortunately, I don’t know when that hour takes place, so please feel free to stay as close to me as possible. With a pen and paper in hand, preferably, so you can take note of my genius when it comes.”

Ramyn bent her head toward Kidan. “He’s joking, right?”

“No.” Slen was unimpressed. “He has the attention span of a needle.”

Kidan’s lips almost twitched.

“A Mot Zebeya.” Slen turned her attention to him. “You guys all have initials for names, don’t you?”

They did? Kidan realized she hadn’t asked his name.

“Yes. You can call me GK. I choose to follow the old naming traditions. My companion will name me, as Demasus named the Last Sage.”

Kidan tried to recall that name from her childhood tales. Demasus, the Fanged Lion. Leader of the vampire army that waged war against the Last Sage and rained down unimaginable terror.

“George,” Yusef offered instantly.

GK frowned. “I just said my companion—”

“Yes, yes, but I really think you can pull off a George. No, wait. Giorgis. I like that.”

Before GK could protest, a tall boy with similar features to Slen entered the house, a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

He squinted at them, then grinned. “Ramyn? Where the hell have you been?”

Ramyn beamed and stood to hug him, her tiny form comical next to his towering height.

“We suck without you. Are you coming to orchestra practice soon?”

Ramyn bit her lip. “No, not for a while.”

His honeyed face dimmed. “Lucky you. If I could quit, I would have been long gone.”

“We’re trying to study here.” Slen opened a thick book of Amharic and Aarac translations.

He smiled and planted a kiss on Slen’s temple. “Don’t let my sister scare you away. This is the first time she’s had people over.”

“Hey, I come over. I’m people,” Yusef said.

“But I don’t invite you,” Slen countered. “You’re just always here.”

Yusef took his pencil and mock-stabbed at his chest. Slen’s brother laughed and went upstairs. A coil of jealousy unfurled inside Kidan at the familial exchange. Slen had a brother, a family. Then why did the Qaros girl look like she was drowning? Or was Kidan only imagining the absence of warmth in Slen’s eyes?

Slen leafed through Introduction to Dranacti . “Our first formal circle, about Sovane, is tomorrow. I want you to gather information about it in your respective fields. The more viewpoints we have on this, the richer our discussion.”

Everyone agreed, and they fell into an easy quiet. Kidan read about the Scales of Sovane—a historical anecdote about a prince named Sovane Ezariah who struggled with two minds. Since two souls couldn’t survive in a single body, one had to fall. Kidan’s lip curled. Why did the professor want them to learn this? Her gaze shifted to her classmates.

Ramyn fidgeted with her broken vintage watch.

GK’s mouth moved in soft repetitions of prayer as he read. Yusef munched on roasted pumpkin seeds, ripping out pages rather than drawing on them. Slen’s forehead scrunched, a pen pressed to her lips.

Why were these students choosing to tether themselves to vampires? Didn’t they know that path was steeped in blood, or didn’t they care?

“I need to use the bathroom,” Kidan lied. “Where is it?”

Slen spoke without lifting her head. “Upstairs to your left, second door.”

Kidan headed up the double staircase, trailing her fingers on the golden handrail. Her Family House appeared a hundred years older than this place.

After discovering a coat closet and gaming room, she arrived at Slen’s room. A set of eleven violins shone in their cases, their scents of wax and wood heavier than smoke. Kidan quickly searched through Slen’s drawers, her jaw clenching with each dead end. Aunt Silia truly left her a nightmare of a clue—House Qaros had turned on House Adane. Nothing specific. How the hell was Kidan meant to learn about the houses?

The sound of people walking echoed, and Kidan instantly flattened herself against the wall. Her vision tightened, blood racing through her veins. If Slen came in here, she was done for.

She cursed herself for not being more careful. Barely an hour into this plan of hers, and she was going to be kicked out and labeled as some weird lurker. The rumor would spread like wildfire, and no student would go near her. Her stomach turned to water, the sensation too close to the days after news about her murder trial broke. She had almost forgotten how bone-chilling those cold glares were in her neighborhood.

A door opened and closed, cutting off the voices. She exhaled softly through her nose and counted to ten before slowly walking out. The hall was empty. Thank God.

“You can’t just quit,” a gruff voice snapped from one of the rooms. “We need you.”

Kidan approached, pressing her ear to the door and taking care not to make a sound.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Ramyn stuttered. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Just leave her alone,” a younger boy cut in, Slen’s brother.

“She made a commitment.”

“Screw your commitments.”

A smack rang out. Ramyn squeaked as if she’d been struck. Kidan’s breath caught, the sound peeling back a memory she’d buried deep beneath—June hiding in the bathtub after breaking filigreed china plates, Kidan confessing it was her and receiving a burning pinch.

When Ramyn whimpered again, Kidan wrenched the door open without thinking.

An older man dressed in a fine suit stood across from Ramyn, his thick fingers grabbing her delicate shoulders. Nearby, Slen’s brother held his smarting cheek. Kidan’s eyes narrowed, that familiar violent tide swirling into rage and pouring into her gut.

She forced her voice to relax. “Ramyn. I’m lost. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

The man’s sharp gaze fell on Kidan. “Who are you?” he asked roughly.

“Kidan. I’m here for a study session.”

“Kidan… House Adane?” Light shone in those pinprick eyes at once. “Nice to meet you. I’m Koril Qaros. Slen’s father.”

He shook her hand in his thick ones, and Kidan tried not to wrest it back.

Behind Koril, Slen’s brother wiped at his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Kidan asked.

“He’s fine,” Koril dismissed.

Kidan kept her eyes on the boy until he forced a smile. “Yes. Ramyn, show her the way.”

Ramyn took Kidan across the hall, to a wide bathroom. She pulled out some makeup from her handbag and cleaned her smudged mascara. Kidan picked up Ramyn’s eye shadow case, opened it, stared into its small mirror. Her eyes appeared small, eyelashes hardly visible, dark circles present. How long had it been since she wore makeup? A year ago. The night June was taken. She’d given up everything that brought her joy.

“What was that about?” Kidan frowned, putting the case back down.

“Just orchestra practice. I’ve been missing sessions lately.”

“Did he hit him?”

Ramyn fiddled with her eyebrow brush, but her hand trembled too much. She blew out a breath and rested the brush on the counter. “Yes.”

Kidan regarded her shaking form with pity. The tears had erased some of Ramyn’s eye shadow. Kidan lifted the brush. “Do you have makeup setting spray?”

Ramyn handed her the bottle, her brow reflecting curiosity. Kidan sprayed some into its cap. Then she collected a lovely shade from the chocolate palette onto the brush before dipping it into the cap, wetting it until she was satisfied.

“Turn to me.” Kidan gently adjusted Ramyn’s face, no longer surprised at her cold temperature, and began painting her eyelids. The process was oddly calming, like watching a movie with an old friend. “It will last longer this way, and it’s more pigmented.”

Ramyn gave a small smile, her septum piercing twinkling. “I didn’t know you liked makeup.”

“Not so much on the rest of the face, but I always loved playing with the eyes.”

Ramyn studied Kidan’s bare lids, the brown eyes quite large this close. Ramyn’s peach perfume tickled Kidan’s nose. “So why don’t you wear any?”

Kidan’s lips twisted sadly. Because she used to practice applying makeup with June all the time. It felt like a betrayal to enjoy it without her. The brush wavered, but Kidan gripped it tightly.

Once it was done, Ramyn thanked Kidan, admiring herself in the mirror.

Kidan steeled herself for what she’d actually come here for.

“We have to talk. I know you know Susenyos.”

Ramyn tensed. “I don’t know—”

Kidan ignored the pang in her gut as she moved to lock the bathroom door, shutting her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Ramyn appeared no different from a baby doe caught in headlights.

“You’re going to tell me what you’re doing with him.” Kidan’s voice slipped into that other place, the voice she had used to leech the truth out of Mama Anoet.

“I-I’m not doing anything with him,” she whispered.

“I’ve seen you two together.”

Ramyn’s eyes darted to the door. Within moments, Kidan had rescued the girl only to subject her to more intimidation. Kidan hated how Ramyn resembled June, her soft edges, bottomless brown eyes. She didn’t want to hurt her. Each time Kidan hurt people, she cut her own life span in half, and she was already living on borrowed time.

She tried a different approach. “Please just tell me.”

“Why?” Ramyn’s quivering voice struck her soul. “Why do you care so much?”

Kidan’s fingers trembled, but she balled them into fists. “Susenyos took my sister. I came to Uxlay to find her.”

It fell quiet. Kidan couldn’t bear it if another person didn’t believe her. She braced for the disappointment. Instead, soft, ice-cold hands reached for her. Kidan fought not to pull away from the tenderness. Her entire body ached. She’d missed the touch of another human being.

“I’m sorry.” Ramyn’s voice took on other people’s pain too quickly. “You’re brave for going to such lengths for her. I don’t think any of my brothers would even blink if something happened to me. They always say I have no future. I’m inadequate, weak.” Ramyn’s eyes creased with admiration. “Your sister is lucky to have you.”

“Family is supposed to be there for you,” Kidan told her, unable to imagine why her brothers would treat her like this.

Ramyn squeezed her hand. “I don’t know. My friends have always been kinder to me than my family.”

Her voice had a tinge of hope. Kidan pulled her hands free and put them in her pockets.

“What’s he doing to you?” Kidan spoke to the floor.

Ramyn fiddled with her broken watch and sighed softly. She pulled down the top of her thin dress to show needle marks along her collarbone. Not bite marks.

“What…”

“I was poisoned as a child.”

Kidan’s eyes widened. “Who poisoned you?”

“I don’t know. It happened so long ago, but there’s no cure. I’m… dying.”

Kidan burned with an unexpected amount of grief. She had to look away from the weak girl, fingers tapping out a rapid triangle. Why people like her? When there were so many evil creatures?

“It’s all right.” Ramyn smiled sadly. “I’ve always known I’d become a vampire.”

Kidan’s throat constricted. “A… vampire?”

She nodded. “Susenyos is helping me get a life exchange.”

Life exchange. Kidan rushed to unravel its meaning, brows pinched. Her knowledge of how humans became vampires was tied to the Three Binds. The Third Bind, specifically, controlled dranaic overpopulation. It forced vampires to sacrifice their own lives if they wanted to give their immortality to human beings.

Life exchange… Was that what Uxlay called this process?

Her stomach flipped. She couldn’t imagine Ramyn, with her gentle hands, transformed into something so vicious.

“It’s not easy, you know. Not many vampires want to give up their immortality. Some ask you to jump through hoops. Susenyos helps me talk to them.” Ramyn gave a short laugh.

Kidan’s finger burned her thigh, a square and triangle searing her skin. She tried to focus. “Can you help me find out what he did to my sister?”

Ramyn withdrew into herself. “I’m sorry.”

Kidan’s fists bunched. “Why?”

“You’re scary, Kidan, but nothing compared with him. I… I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

Kidan turned away before she did something she’d regret.

“I really hope you find her,” Ramyn called softly.

Kidan squeezed her eyes shut and hurried downstairs, not sure if she wanted to embrace Ramyn or hurt her. Why would Susenyos care about Ramyn? He wouldn’t give up his own life, but apparently he was more than happy to find her a match?

And if he was helping her, why was Ramyn so terrified of him?