Page 9 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

Chapter Six

Alma

Be wary of the beast with many forms for it is always on the hunt to consume one more.

A child’s voice sang those words into my dreams, cruel laughter trickling through the warning.

A child I’d never been allowed to be. Rhymes to mock and strip me.

Making me desperate, to cling to the crumbs of my humanity.

Wishing my claws could bury themselves deep into it.

That my fangs could drink the merest moments of innocence dry.

That I could keep the parts of myself I used to be, but they cut them away effortlessly. With knives too sharp and skilled. Until I was just a girl with no name. Nothing but a pet.

A beast waiting to be fed.

Those memories sat heavy and sour in my gut like bad gruel. Then came the rattle of chain and the burn of copper down my throat. The snap of bone and the searing pain of my flesh as it peeled away to become something else.

I lurched forward, gasping away from the coldness of my nightmare’s hold, only to find my wrists captured in soft, warm hands. Halting my escape.

‘I must say …’ Thean Page sighed before me, the usual cruel upturn of their feminine lip absent as they peered down at me. ‘I didn’t anticipate you having such a flare for the dramatic, darling.’

Their hair was uncharacteristically braided back from their striking face.

Showing one of those ancient runes marked on their flesh, tucked behind their ear.

Amber eyes gleaming like a calculating cat under their dark lashes, as their fingers curled gently around my forearms. The sharp smell of cloves coming off them that easily chased away the haunting stench of my dreams.

‘What are you doing?’ Slipped from their grasp, almost stumbling back onto the chaise, a tattered blanket discarded and tangled around my feet. A chaise that wasn’t there before. Not in this study. One the house must have manifested.

I’d fainted. Only there was no space for shame as I pressed my clammy palms against my forehead, trying to ease the throbbing pain at my temples.

‘Babysitting, clearly.’ They turned, returning to their perch by the fire. Those long legs hugged in a pair of riding trousers so tight that it was a miracle the stitches were still intact.

I dropped my hand, only to wince as I moved my arm, finding it covered by a dressing gown sleeve.

The fabric thick and luxurious, swamping me.

I pulled back the sleeve to see my wrist. Expertly wrapped with clean, white bandages.

The dark scales still protruding at the edge of the cotton, not fully settled back into my skin.

The cut across my palm was also wrapped neatly. The sticky sensation of healing balm as the pungency of mint and bitter healing herbs met my nose.

In the firelight I could see the small marks on my skin.

My scars. Almost easily missed but I saw every one, the barest shade lighter.

Every cut where they’d made me change and took something from me.

Every nick of their blade that they hadn’t bothered to heal.

Allowed to be open too long, forming small divots.

I pulled my sleeve down. Refusing to remember as I looked to the window. Unable to hide my deep swallow of relief. It was barely dusk. I hadn’t been unconscious long. Hadn’t lost any more time.

‘Gideon—’ I turned back to Thean, seeing the voyav’s elegant hand raised to stop whatever unarticulated rubbish was about to come spilling out from between my lips.

‘He’s still with the patient.’ They rested their elbow on the arm of the chair, perching their chin perfectly on the back of their hand and pursing those full lips. ‘ You, darling, had the fortune to be tended to by me.’

Something about being the centre of the voyav’s attention felt dangerous as my fingers traced the edge of the bandage, how neat and careful it was.

How they’d wrapped it further down my arm than was needed, covering up the mottled, scarred skin of my wrist. My shackle marks. Not out of pity, I was sure.

‘I’ll commend myself to save you the trouble,’ they goaded at my silence. It was only then I realised I was in a dressing gown. Not the trader’s coat.

‘Who changed me?’ I demanded, watching them closely for any hint of a lie. Refusing to be relieved the reeking leather coat was gone.

‘Me.’ They crossed one ankle over the other with relaxed ease, that smile softening. ‘Don’t worry, darling. I’m too old to get any enjoyment out of voyeurism .’

‘Really?’ I mocked. It didn’t bother me. I’d learnt long ago this skin was nothing but another mask, one of many.

In a moment the voyav was up, across the room and before me again. Breath sweetened with brandy as it stirred the loose dark strands of my hair. That wild thing inside of me rising to the challenge of them. Delighting in it.

‘I can slit a man’s throat without a shed of moonlight to guide the blade.’ That feminine voice was soft with seduction despite the cruelty lacing the words. ‘I think I can manage putting you in a robe without looking.’

There was nothing but truth burning in those amber eyes. A smugness about it. As if knowing I wanted them to lie so then I’d have a reason for my anger. Instead, it simmered uselessly inside of me.

For the first time in my life … the beasts beneath my skin felt torn. Undecided if they should bite or play. Drawn in by the heady scent of the voyav and the taunting flutter of their pulse, the strong line of their throat.

I retreated before that fucking scent could draw me closer. Could make me stupider. Retreating to Kat’s desk. Wanting to put her things back. Wanting to fix one small part of this mess. Needing to move. To be useful.

‘No more colourful threats?’ The voyav followed. Their soft laughter like a caress down my spine.

‘I’m certain Blackthorn has given you enough.’ I doubted even they could avoid the darkness of Emrys’s moods.

I gathered up Kat’s bandages and healing kit. Moving to put it all back in her bag. Only to pause when a small metal tin caught my eye. Her healing salve – her favourite one.

How often she’d dab it onto my kitchen burns. The peppery scent of it stinging my nose as she rambled about some cursed book she’d been reading.

My thumb dragged over the rough paper label, singed at the edges with more evidence of her carelessness with a flame. A knot of emotion threatened to seal my throat as I curled the tin in my fist, nails scraping against the metal.

‘He’s not as vicious as you, darling,’ Thean continued.

Making me turn to see where they peered over my shoulder, spying to see what had caught my attention.

There was gentle curiosity hidden in their eyes.

There were darker specks of amber there too.

Like a cluster of autumnal stars. ‘You had no chance of hiding that.’

‘Alma!’

William’s voice echoed down the hall and into the room.

Making me jerk back from the voyav’s lure.

Cursing as I darted towards the door on unsteady legs, grabbing onto the frame to propel myself into the hallway only to almost collide with the boy.

His eyes were wide, freckled face flushed and a bright beaming smile on his lips as his dishevelled hair knotted around his horns.

‘Go and see.’ He grabbed my sleeve, tugging me up the first three steps. ‘Gideon wants you.’

I didn’t allow myself to think. Bunching up my robe and taking the stairs two at a time, leaving the boy behind, I rounded the corner at the top.

Only to skid to a halt as I found Emrys standing in the doorway of his room.

Arm braced against the frame perhaps to stop himself from entering, a taut tension in his shoulders as if it took everything within him not to.

He pulled back at my arrival, the angles of his face sharper in the shadow of the hallway. An oddness clung to him, making me and the beasts beneath my skin wary once more.

Curse Kat. The one time she decided to take an interest in anything other than a bloody book and he was darkness incarnate. Verr – and probably a hundred other forsaken fucking things besides.

‘Let me see,’ he ordered quietly, moving towards me. His hand extended politely for my bandaged arm, fingers still black-tipped and veined with the evidence of what he was.

That thing I shouldn’t trust.

‘It’ll be better soon enough,’ I offered instead, tucking my arm carefully close to my side as he came to a stop in front of me. He didn’t lower his hand. Just waited patiently. It was then I remembered something else, as I saw those horrid, bruised marks on his face I’d made.

Hate is a poisonous thing , Kat had said once, reminding herself of it after another cruel examination by the Council. Another attack she had no defence against. Another piece of proof of why this world wasn’t worth saving.

I didn’t hate him. Couldn’t when I knew Kat trusted him. When she felt things so deeply for him. Stupidly perhaps.

But right now, I didn’t like him. Nor the secrets he kept. Yet, if he was responsible for this then so was I. We both should have taken better care of her.

I gave him my arm. Pretending I didn’t care how strange and beastly it was.

A thousand excuses cluttered my tongue but none could escape the tightness of my lips. ‘Did it work?’

He gave the barest nod, his jaw tense as his eyes moved reluctantly back to the doorway he’d left watch of. ‘Gideon sees an improvement but there is too much we don’t know about the venom.’

‘She’ll make it.’ The words felt childish from my lips. Impossible.

I could see the pain in his solemn grey eyes, how haunted he was by hope, the cruel temptation of it. How mortal he seemed with it. Despite how I knew he was anything but, how the room creaked with the warning of the cursed magic trapped beneath his skin.

I didn’t know all the stories. Not of the Verr and the curses beneath. Couldn’t understand most of them but I knew it cost him to be close to that darkness. He’d paid it for Kat and I couldn’t hate him for that.

Then my gaze caught on those unhealed marks made by my claws. The memory of William’s desperate screams in my ears. Shame burnt through me, cold and sickly at the thought of all the horrid things I’d said. How they’d scraped at my throat on their way out as if splintered with glass.

‘Here.’ I held the small tin of salve between us, still curled in my other hand. The only peace offering I was willing to give. ‘Those marks will upset her when she wakes.’

I wouldn’t say sorry. I was too much of a proud bitch for that. No matter how my chest ached with the weight of my guilt. The discomfort from where it sat, heavy against my ribs.

The shame that I’d always bite before I’d listen. Something in me too broken to be fixed. Too sharp to be soft.

‘She’ll be waiting for you.’ He took the small tin from me. His thumb tracing the label she’d written just as mine had. Not dismissing my gratitude but not accepting it either. Just leaving it there between us.

She’d be waiting for him too. Like the fool she could be.

A fucking Verr – of all the creatures she could choose to keep. Yet, how could I fault her. She’d kept me too.

He hesitated for a moment more. Fist curling around the tin, darkness seeping between his knuckles like smoke before he left me there. The house releasing a quiet, sad groan.

I made it to the bedroom. A thousand thoughts racing through my head, a humming like bees trapped within my skull as I forced myself forward.

Finding the stern form of Gideon standing at the base of the bed, looking through a healing bag that lay open on the ottoman at the base. I didn’t make a sound. Couldn’t, and yet he still looked up.

‘Miss Darcy.’ He straightened, folding his arms behind his back.

‘Emrys said you see an improvement.’ I ignored his formality.

‘Her pulse is stronger. No more tremors and she hasn’t had an adverse reaction to any of the healing tonics.’ His words were cautious, with a deep crease of worry at his brow. ‘However, I doubt we’re out of the woods yet.’

‘We’ll find something else then,’ I answered too sharply for the peaceful quiet in the room. Not allowing him to dampen my hope. Not willing to accept just how fragile my grasp of it was.

He considered me for the smallest of moments and I refused to be ashamed by what he saw. A tired and lost creature. A madwoman with monstrous scales.

‘As you said. We’re not finished.’ He dipped his head in agreement, running his hand through his golden hair, letting it curl between his gloved fingers as those sad blue eyes came back to my own. ‘Have some time with her, and then we’ll have another look at that.’

He nodded towards my arm, as he moved to leave the room.

‘Thean and Emrys already—’ I began.

‘It’s the least I could do,’ were his parting words before he left me standing there.

The moment I heard the door click shut, I lunged for the bed. Reaching for her wildly, needing to press my trembling fingers against the skin of her hand. To feel she was real. Warmth brushed my fingertips, the barest flare of heat from her magic like a spark against my skin.

A sob left me, bowing me over as I took hold of her hand. Dropping into the chair next to the bed, tightening my hold on her no matter how it made the wound on my arm sting.

Kat.

Her cheeks were flushed. Breath sliding easily between her lips. The barest flutter of her eyelids, something new that made too many emotions rush through me, fuelling that burning hope inside my chest. Ribs tightening their hold on it like a startled bird so it couldn’t escape.

I curled our pinkie fingers together. Holding hers so tightly as I kissed the back of her hand. I cried harder with relief, as I pressed her hand against my cheek, unable to stop the smile that came to my trembling lips.

She pulled in another breath, deep and steady. Each one chasing away the sadness that forever lingered inside of me.

‘I’m here,’ was all I could say as my head dropped onto the bed. Tightening my hold and hoping she could feel it – wherever she’d wandered to. Letting the sound of her breaths settle me, deep and greedy for life as I let exhaustion have me once more.