Page 121 of Taste of Thorns

“I think you can guess,” I say as neutrally as I can.

“The girl?” A smile creeps across her face. I couldn’t have given her a better gift. “Your little girl? I knew it. I knew you would have a nose for this, Fox. I knew there must be a reason for your silly obsession. And now it all makes sense. The girl possesses the power.” Her smile twists, and I read on her lips, “Just like her sister.”

“What will you do?” I ask, curious to know if she’ll spin me a lie or if she still trusts me enough to tell me the truth.

“I will follow protocol,” she says. “I will inform the Empress’ privy council.”

“And?”

“And then, if you’re right, and she does indeed have powers, she’ll be sent to Onyx Quarter.” Her lips twist cruelly. “She was only ever going to be here for a year, Fox.”

I ignore the obvious jibe. Whether sent to Onyx or Slate, Briony was always going to leave the academy when the year was up and her destiny was decided. I am acutely aware of her departure. All too aware.

“Have there been others, Veronica?” I ask her.

“I think I remember you asking me that once before, darling. There has always been the odd commoner who shows potential. Sometimes it turns out to be just that – potential and nothing ever comes of it. Sometimes it turns out they are not so common after all. I assume you have looked into the girl’s parents.” I nod. “And?”

“Nothing.”

“Then maybe she is one of those true rare flowers. Congratulations, I knew you would find one eventually.” She glides her tongue down her fangs, an action that used to drive me half crazed. “Did you tell her you were fated mates?” I bristle and she laughs. “Of course you did.” She turns and pulls another cigarette from her case, knocking its head against the top of her desk and then lighting it with a flick of her fingers. “And have you tried her blood? Is that how you know? They taste different don’t they, the ones with powers?”

I consider my answer carefully. “I just know.”

She stares at me, her eyes glistening with excitement.

“This calls for a celebration.” She takes a drag of her cigarette, then strolls to a cabinet, and pulls out a bottle of fortified wine and two crystal glasses.

She splashes the rosy pink liquid into one glass and paces the distance between us, placing it into my hand, stroking her fingers down my arm as I take it. Then she returns to fill her own glass, lifting it above her head.

“To the first of your finds, Professor Tudor. May it be one of many.”

I don’t lift my glass, but I take a sip of the liquid anyway.

“You were always destined for great things, my darling.”

I stare into my glass. If these were the great things I was promised, I’d like a refund on that deal. I tip the liquid down my throat and it burns all the way down to my gut.

“You can remove the boy from Slate …” She smiles indulgently.

“But not Slate from the boy,” I finish.

How many times have I wished I’d been left there? That I’d never left at all.

I push the thought aside. No time for whimsical nostalgia.

“The next trial?” I say, hoping as I’ve given her this gift, she’ll reward me in return.

“You know I’m forbidden from revealing any details, Fox. Can’t be accused of favoritism now, can I?”

“But you’re just dying to tell me, Veronica,” I say, pacing towards her, an action that has her shivering, especially when I tower above her. I lean against the cabinet, caging her with my arms. “You want to tell me how clever you’ve been. You want me to admire the genius of whatever test you’ve devised this time.”

“Is that what you like about me? My mind,” she purrs. “Or is it the way I make you feel? I bet she doesn’t come close. But you’ve done your duty now, darling. No need to suffer any longer.”

I lean closer, breathing cold air against her ear. “Tell me, Veronica, what you have planned for the next trial?” She doesn’t answer and I nip my fangs against her earlobe. She moans.

“It’s going to be glorious, Fox. It’s going to test your little girl right to her limits.”

Chapter Forty-Three