Page 32 of Shadows and Flames (Twin Blades #2)

Tomás waved his hand, as if mimicking someone else, and his accent changed from the Sjatan cadence to one similar to Grimm’s. “‘You two are the most insufferable papas. One who lets the boy skirt the rules at every turn, the other a stifling worry wort.’”

My hand landed on Meline’s leg beside mine, not even needing to look. I smiled along with the joke, eventually catching on that they had sponsored the young boy from Nethras. I’d only met him once or twice, but he was a sweet soul.

“Frankly, he needs the excitement. Acolyte chores are boring as all hell, and Nogón’s grunts don’t add very much.”

“I think you misunderstand who she was labeling the worrier, Tom.”

“What?” he laughed, aghast.

Elián pointed at the protection bundle Tomás was tying off. “Who is that for?”

“Wha—I—it’s for you.”

“Are all Shadows this bad at lying?” I gave Meline a final pat, worried I’d drawn too much attention to her. She leaned away from me as Elián drew her into his arms, now sneaking wondering glances while she fiddled with the bows she tied in the twine.

Tomás and Elián started going back and forth at each other in what I assumed was Zonoran. It rolled smoothly off their tongues, and though he used far more words than Elián, the quieter male fired back just as quickly at his brother.

Meline and I watched them bicker with each other, and I tried to grin past the twinge in my heart. I’d so quickly snapped into my place, yet again trying to keep my cousin afloat like this ship.

But now, she had her Shadow, didn’t she?

The bathing room had been empty, thankfully, and I was able to sneak some time on my own. I scrubbed the salt clinging to my skin, lathered my own blend of moisturizing soap through my hair quickly.

Refreshed and steam chasing, I opened back out into the corridor for our deck, just as the Vyrkos walked purposefully toward the steps. After so much time with assassins, his footfalls seemed loud, uncaring.

The deepened glow of his red eyes, however, made my heart lurch.

I quickly caught up to him and joined in step, bundle of bathing supplies still in tow. “Do not do what you are thinking of doing. We can help.”

His brown tunic appeared worse for wear, and his hair was not in the orderly queue from before. The messy strands whipped about his face as he flashed his fangs at me. “Be gone. I won’t have you all monitoring my actions. Pompous schoolmarms, the lot of you.”

Before he could start descending the steps, I shoved him into the wall.

The lamps lining the corridor flickered as I called the aether to me.

No words spoken but the coaxing of an old friend, I called my magic forth, and it glowed a pale violet around the fingertip I pointed right at his arrogant face.

“We are trying to help you. They are organizing, waiting until we are most vulnerable to pick us off. Do you hold no value for your life?”

Something flickered across the Vyrkos’s face, but it was gone faster than a blink. The scar that pulled from lip to cheek tightened, and he tried to intimidate me again, even when I was stronger. Faster. He was clearly entering the stages of hunger where coherent thought became muddy.

“Let. Me. Go.”

I ignored his demand and instead tightened my hold.

“We have just a few more days,” I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice, but the words were still rough, “and after that, you will be able to go about your life. Hunting as you please without being stuck on a ship, outnumbered by humans just as hungry for blood as you are.”

He scoffed. Scoffed.

“You think of yourself as invincible? They may be weaker physically, but do not underestimate the power of hate and fear.” I wasn’t sure how old he was, but he had enough years behind him to at least know of The Killings.

Our peoples had engaged in a whole bloody war fueled by similar motivations, and look where we’d ended up.

The male swallowed, reason focusing on me for a moment before the flaring again in his cherry-colored eyes.

Vyrkos needed to feed more frequently than us, as their diet consisted of blood and only blood.

He hid it well, but—as I studied him, trying to figure out how to make him see this truth I knew was undeniable, I felt the faint tremors beneath my hold.

His widened pupils and irregular breathing.

He wasn’t just hungry. He was nearing Frenzy.

Softer, I called back my magic and asked, “What is your name?”

His gaze swept left then right, like an animal cornered. “Fenix.”

Aside from the beginning signs of Frenzy, he was not attacking me, he seemed oriented to himself, where we were.

He had the wherewithal to insult us earlier.

“My name is Tana. Come with me, Fenix. Please . We can feed you. Protect you.” Our rations were low, but we’d each fed in preparation for the trip.

Emotions would run higher with increased hunger, but Frenzy was still far away for all four of us.

Fenix, on the other hand? We’d all suffer if he didn’t get what he needed. I hardly knew this male, but I didn’t want to have to kill him.

He relaxed beneath the steel bar of my forearm across his chest, and the beginnings of a smile curled at my lips. I’d never been close to Frenzy before, but during my visits to Rhaestras, I’d been educated on how it affected the body. Reducing functions to a survival state that had one goal—feed.

The function of one’s mind was diminished to base urges. Breath, defense, and sustenance. Anything else, even your own name , was inconsequential. And if it went on long enough, death would come.

The longest recorded instance of this was ten years. But how many feral blood drinkers existed in Frenzy and were never caught?

Fenix and I both felt a presence approaching, a man walking down the steps from a deck above. He was dressed in the clothing of the crew—light tunic, sturdy trousers, and worn boots—and his loaded glance at the male I held against the wall spoke volumes.

We both watched him turn and continue down the steps to a level below, and Fenix stiffened right back up.

“I know how to care for myself. Now, move.”

I wanted to roar in his face. Hurt him until he was too injured to resist. “After they come for you, they will come for us,” I tried. “Fenix, please.”

But he was done engaging with me. It wasn’t enough to overpower me, but my frustration had me relenting to the shove he gave.

“Stay away from me.”

And I watched him go, my cousin and the Shadows’ assertions at war with the drive within me to keep one of our own from being murdered. We were different races, but there was more that connected us than separated us. How could we let him walk into destruction in this way?

While I stood, fighting with myself, pleasured moans reached my ears from below. The scent of freshly shed blood tickled my senses.

“Fuck,” I growled under my breath as I ran down the steps, away from the good sense that I was rejecting. And into a trap.