Page 37 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)
‘Why are you creeping around in the dark?’ I demanded, refusing to acknowledge the strange play of my magic over my skin in their presence. The wildness in me not knowing if it should preen or bite. Of how the richness of their scent chased away everything else.
‘Why change the habit of an eternity?’ The voyav shrugged a graceful shoulder, that beautiful auburn hair catching the torchlight as they ran their fingers idly through it.
‘You’re not that old.’ William frowned, sucking his finger where he’d burnt it on the torch. ‘Besides, Alma wanted to see the compendiums.’
William winced slightly, clearly realising he probably shouldn’t be telling a rebellion voyav that information.
Thean didn’t seem to care, those troublesome eyes coming to land on me instead. ‘Of course this was your idea, little nightmare.’
‘I don’t see you helping.’ I crossed my arms, feeling the sharpness of fangs against my gums. My treacherous body wanting to mimic them. Ignoring the stupid name they’d chosen to bestow upon me.
‘Perhaps I’m not in the mood to take a beating from a dark lord after rummaging through his cursed collections.’ Thean leant back against the damp wall, apparently unbothered about ruining their outrageous suede jacket.
‘You shouldn’t have said anything about Kat’s breasts then,’ I snapped. Remembering how frighteningly quickly Emrys had moved at Thean’s taunt and how brutally his fist had made contact with the voyav’s grinning face. Thean not having the chance to hide within their more feminine form.
I doubted it would have saved them. I knew Emrys wouldn’t hit a woman – hitting a Thean was a completely different matter.
The voyav leant forward, a sly smile upon those full lips. ‘Don’t fret, darling, if I was interested, I wouldn’t have said anything at all.’
I snorted. I didn’t care what the voyav said about Kat’s breasts. Or if they thought about them at all.
Their smile grew sharper as if hearing my treacherous thoughts. Although those amber eyes mercifully left me and drifted to William. ‘Lead the way, dear William.’
‘I don’t think you’re allowed to be down here.’ The boy shuffled nervously, looking down the dark corridor as if waiting for the house to respond. Only for silence and dead air to greet us.
‘The house has clearly made the decision on Blackthorn’s behalf.’ Thean came closer to me, bringing with them that bastard scent that I dragged in too willingly. Anything to get the demonic stink out of my nose – or so I told myself.
I saw the only open door next to us, a gloomy dilapidated room that appeared to have once been an office. A perfect place to wait.
‘Give me those matches,’ I sighed, grabbing the box out of the boy’s apron. ‘I’ll keep an eye on them, William.’
I pushed the voyav’s very firm shoulder so they had no choice but to move into the side room with me. Ignoring how easily they went at my command despite how much taller they were than me.
A sad-looking chaise was in the centre of the gloomy room. One end stacked with crates of books long forgotten with dust gathering on their leather covers.
A grimy lantern sat on an abandoned stack of tomes; the fireplace was bricked up but the mantel remained, covered in candles that had all melted, dripping wax down the chipped bricks. I busied myself lighting them all, drenching the depressing space in warm orange light.
How old and stagnant it was, the air thick with dead magic. Leaving a bitterness on my tongue. Unsettling me, but I turned to find the voyav sat on the chaise.
‘It must be my lucky day.’ Thean grinned, baring those fucking fangs that made my gums ache to do the same. Luring my beasts to play.
‘What do you want?’ I was too tired to even think about fighting with them.
‘To see if you decided to get any more mad ideas.’ They shrugged, the motion moving their shirt to reveal more of those forbidden runes marked there. Blood marks. Evidence of their devotion to the rebellion. To the witch that puppeted them. ‘Or if you were finished licking your wounds?’
‘Because I’m a beast?’ I sneered, though the voyav never reacted to my anger the way I wanted.
They inclined their head, thoughtfully. ‘No, because self-pity isn’t like you, love.’
‘Sod off,’ I sighed. Pressing my fingers against my brow. Hoping the motion might soothe the dull ache in the back of my skull from the presence of something else within me.
Something I’d let in. That horrid sickly feeling still against my skin.
‘Some things are not worth your worry,’ the voyav cautioned, leaning forwards so their elbows rested on their knees. The most casual gesture I’d seen the creature make. Perfect bow lips pursed as if with concern.
‘You saw the state of Kat.’ It worried me more, how much more of this she could bare.
‘She should have been resting,’ they offered gently as if cautious of my mood. ‘Unfortunately, Blackthorn is too bewitched to see reason where she’s concerned.’
I should have hissed or bitten out a curse but I found myself stuck in silence.
Kat was impossible to reason with even when she was of sound mind.
Reluctant to give the voyav a victory, I childishly turned my attention to the candles.
Hoping like a vicious spectre they’d vanish with the lack of attention.
‘A Kysillian will never be told what to do. Stubborn as an ox, even when faced with a foe as vicious as you, darling,’ they reasoned softly, and if I wasn’t smarter, I’d convince myself I heard an edge of concern in their voice.
‘We’re generalising everyone by blood now?’
‘Am I wrong?’ They rubbed their jaw, the collection of golden rings on their fingers catching the candlelight. ‘You might be in love with her but surely you can see her faults, darling?’
A sharp laugh escaped me at the ridiculousness of the statement. Echoing off the stone around us. ‘I’m not in love with Kat.’
I ignored the bite of curiosity that had lingered in the voyav’s words. Why the accusation would leave their lips. Why a being like them would care for such fickle emotions at all? ‘She’s half of me in a way I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’
Like a limb, it was a familiarity I was dependent on. So close to my heart it didn’t have words. As if our stories had begun on the same page, even if I knew that wasn’t true. Even if the nightmare of mine had started long before.
No. I wasn’t demented enough to be in love with Kat. Blackthorn could suffer that fate alone.
‘Have you met many Kysillians?’ I frowned, finding myself against my better judgement turning to fully face them.
‘A few.’ There was a guardedness to those eyes. As if not anticipating my curiosity.
Tough . They should have been cleverer in their games.
I blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Do you answer any questions?’
‘Perhaps you aren’t asking the right ones, darling.
’ They tilted their head, revealing more summoning marks up the strong column of their throat.
So many. Almost sadistic in their abundance.
A testament to how tightly such a creature needed to be bound, as if Thean’s will was too wild to be contained with merely one.
Or perhaps their master just enjoyed the sight of them too much. My fingertips brushed across the mottled skin of my wrist, fur rising beneath my touch. The creatures beneath trying to comfort me.
‘Why are you even still here?’ I demanded, pushing my hands behind my back. Turning my own anguish to anger like flipping a coin.
Thean seemed to preen under my irritation. ‘Maybe the question you really want to ask is why it bothers you so?’
It doesn’t bother me , I wanted to snap, but the slipping of scales over my spine with a shudder I had to repress told me otherwise. Every sense in my cursed body was on alert in their presence. Beasts too curious.
Flustered, I turned my attention to the abandoned items in the room.
The oddities that littered the sideboard behind me.
Jars and strange dried herb mixes. A peculiar, small metal orb sitting amongst the mess.
Odd runes carved into it. I reached for it only for the voyav to suddenly be next to me, catching my curious hand.
The warm brush of their body making my breath catch.
‘I wouldn’t touch that,’ they warned, their fingers strangely soft.
‘What is it?’ I frowned, looking up to see them eyeing it suspiciously. How they tugged me away ever so slightly.
‘A vorg,’ they answered, gently releasing my hand. ‘A way of transporting summoned fiends.’
I reared back, appalled. ‘Why would you want to transport them?’
‘Hungry creatures do well in battle.’ Their eyes remained on the orb, cautious of it. All their humour gone. ‘What do you think made a mess of Emrys’s pretty face?’
Horror ploughed through me at just how hideous this world could be.
No mortal or lesser fey could have survived such an attack.
The brutality of it. Only it was their lack of surprise at anything that had unfolded to do with those relics that caught my attention. Their lack of surprise at any of this.
‘You’ve seen a relic before,’ I accused. They’d said as much as Kat read over those Crow’s Foot pages. Unsurprised by the development.
‘How clever you are.’ Their fanged smile gleamed with predatory delight – back to their games so quickly.
‘Don’t mock me.’ I bared my teeth.
‘Little love, I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Their hands slipped so easily into their pockets – taunting me with their relaxed ease. Making me ponder how many of their perfect teeth I could knock out in one hit.
‘Tell me,’ I demanded. Knowing I had nothing to offer in such a bargain. Hoping that if they had any pity left in them, they’d allow me this answer at least.
Those sharp eyes dragged over my tired features. If they were repulsed by my dishevelment, they didn’t show it. No, they considered me as if weighing up what price they’d ask for.