Page 49 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Dick

Warrick

Rayze leaves. Just fucking leaves .

I frown, staring at the portal as the Bond flickers with grief.

Then Aleksi leaps up onto the bench behind me and wrenches the jug of ale from my grasp. “Ah-ha!” she shouts and tilts with its sudden weight.

“For fuck’s sake,” I say and turn to her, catching her by the hips before she can topple off the bench. I yank the jug from her grasp and set it aside, helping her down. “I’ll deliver your precious ale to the den, okay?”

Aleksi’s eyes narrow.

“Gods, Red, do you think I’m going to just drain this thing? It’s at least a week’s worth of liquor,” I point out.

Her cheeks heat, her lips rolling together. “I’m not a drunk,” she insists.

I shuck off my fur coat and unstrap my leather gear until I’m down to a long-sleeved shirt and dark pants. I kick off my boots and nod to hers. “Show me you can untie those laces, and I’ll believe you.”

Her embarrassment immediately fades to a smug expression as she lifts a foot, plucks a hidden zipper on its side, and slides it down. She chucks the thing at my stomach, and I let it fall to the marble between us.

“That proves nothing,” I tell her, folding my arms.

“You know, Ivor,” she slurs, yanking off her other boot before she pads down the hallway. “I liked it better when you weren’t around.”

I grab her jug of ale and trail after her. “Gee, thanks, Red.”

“At least you’re wearing a shirt for once.” Then she lets out some sort of half-giggle, half-snort. “You and your fucking torso keep distracting the young Daughters from their studies.”

I catch up to her. “Studies? Is that what you call rambling drunkenly about magic?”

“Fuck you,” Aleksi growls and stalks down the hall, where Sonya waits for us.

The Slayer of Mutants stands leaning against a glass wall, one leg propped up as she braids her hair over her shoulder.

She’s changed out of her Alodon clothes into the simple black tank and cropped black pants most of the Daughters wear around Shard House.

She ties off her hair with a thick band when she sees us.

Where were you? Then she spots me with the jug of ale and shakes her head. Never mind. I should’ve known .

“Fangs,” I say, and Sonya casts me a hard glare. I chuckle. “I was only going to ask that you teach me a new sign or two.”

Sonya lifts a brow. Then she flashes a thumbs up.

I nod, and we stop in the center of the hallway, Aleksi leaning her shoulder into a window with a smirk as she watches us. I settle the ale on the ground.

Ready ? Sonya asks.

Ready , I return sloppily. I shake out my hands. “A bit rusty,” I say.

She lifts a brow, then she flashes a few signs and points at me.

I mirror her.

She shakes her head and shows me again, this time slower.

I follow, and I must get it right because Aleksi cackles. “Alright, what the fuck did I just say?” I mutter.

Sonya glances at Aleksi, who leans between us and hefts her giant jug of ale into a hug, her smile wide.

“You just called yourself a dick,” she says.

“Nice.” I sign it again, and Sonya’s shoulders jerk with a laugh.

“You’ve got a pretty smile, Fangs, but you need to work on some less obvious pranks,” I tell her, and the corners of her eyes wrinkle with amusement.

She signs quickly, her head tilting and her wavy emerald hair sliding with the movement.

“You walked into it easily for it being an obvious prank,” Aleksi interprets.

“Fair.” I grin, and Sonya flicks a wave of green over her shoulder, sauntering away.

I match Aleksi’s steps as we walk down the hall after her. “You sure you got that? Also, do you have any idea where my girl went?”

“Yes and yes,” Aleksi grunts, shifting the weight of the jug from one cradled arm to the other.

“But whether Rayze wants you to know is up to her.” She glares at me.

“And you should really refrain from calling Sin your girl if you’re attached to your balls.

None of us particularly like being referred to as property. ”

“I’ll stop calling her my girl,” I say, folding my arms with a dark grin, “when she stops coming from it.”

“Ew. Oh my fucking Gods.” Aleksi blanches and hurries ahead. “That’s my sister , fuckhead.”

I laugh and easily match her pace.

Additional halls branch off into rooms or alcoves as we pass, Daughters sparring, studying, or chattering about magic.

“You know, you never told me what exactly your map power does.” I scan the sculptures embedded into the thin spaces between windows.

“Trying to bond with me, snake?” she asks.

I shrug. “Rayze’s family is my family.”

Aleksi slows at that. She gives me one of her assessing looks.

So judgy .

Then she blows out a breath. “I can see the makings of everything.”

“ Everything ?”

“Everything.”

I frown. “So if you look at me—”

“I see a load of bullshit.”

I choke on a laugh, and she grins.

“I like you Red,” I tell her. “I like all of you, actually. Wasn’t sure what to expect from a bunch of assassins fucking around in the clouds.”

“You’re…” She eyes my profile. “ Okay .”

I hum, pleased.

Water drips in steady rhythms from the sculpted mouths of beasts—serpents, hounds, stags—into long channels of crystal-clear runoff from the mountain’s spring.

“If you can see the makings of everything,” I start, “then does that mean you know what happened to the animals?”

We step out of the hall and into Shard House’s massive den, its center sunken with two couches shaped like crescent moons. A fireplace carved from silver-veined marble licks at the rooms center, Daughters sprawled across the couches reading and whispering.

Sonya signs to a few of them, and they snap their books shut, hopping to their feet and motioning for the others to leave. They scurry out of the room.

Some glare at me. Others blush.

Ah, the Daughter way.

“They died,” Aleksi finally answers me with the room clear. “Most of the animals were eaten, actually.”

Gods. “I saw a bushy brown thing in the mountains my first time here.”

Aleksi plops onto one of the couches, sliding the jug of ale onto a center, glass table. She laughs. “Are you talking about a squirrel?”

“Yeah. Are there more of them here? Because of the Daughters?”

She releases its cork and snatches her flask from her belt, carefully tilting the lip of the jug against her flask.

The steady drizzle of liquor fills the room.

“It’s more likely the animals that could adapt to mountainous terrain fled up here when the monarchies fell and people were starving,” she answers.

Sonya settles opposite her sister, lifting one of the couch cushions and procuring a set of playing cards. She lifts them toward me, a brow raised in challenge.

“I don’t play much,” I say and sit between them as she deals the deck.

“Good. We want you drunk anyways, so we can learn all your secrets,” Aleksi says and shoves her filled flask toward me. “If you have to draw a card because you don’t have any matches to lay down, you take a drink and tell us something about yourself of your choice.”

I try to take the flask, but her grip tightens around it. I blink a few times, waiting, then she finally releases the damn drink with a heavy sigh.

“And if I do have a match?” I ask, taking a small sip, wary of drinking too much and having her attack me.

“You have to answer any question we want to ask.”

“I see.” I take my dealt cards between my hands and fan them out, seeing far too many matches. “And, again, where is my favorite assassin?”

“Busy.” Aleksi kicks back and releases her braid, orange curls flaring out around her face and bunching down her back. She lifts her flask. “To the fall of Russell Ivor,” she cheers.

Fuck, I’ll always drink to that.

“Am I allowed to ask you two questions?” I take a swig as she passes the flask again.

Aleksi lies down a match. “There you go. I’ve got one match in my hand so you can ask me one question, and don’t let it be stupid, Ivor. I obviously can’t tell you where Sin is.”

“You’ve got only one match? How the fuck is that possible?” I mutter, then look over at Sonya, her eyes shimmering. “Cheater.”

Am not , she signs, slowing her movements for me. She lifts a brow. Was that your question?

No , I return. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to sign the rest.”

It’s okay. I appreciate you trying, snake. She pushes her emerald hair behind her ears and spreads her hands.

“So, what is it?” Aleksi asks.

I clear my throat. “It’s a bit awkward.”

They both release small snorts.

“Since when have you cared about awkward?” Aleksi grumbles.

“Can Daughters not—” I stop, cringing. “Can you all have—fuck me, I shouldn’t even ask.”

Sonya signs something I unfortunately recognize.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I wanted to ask Rayze. It’s not like we’ve exactly been careful but—”

“Don’t.” Aleksi swallows, setting her glass down, a sight I thought I’d never see. “Ivor, we can have kids. It’s different with magic involved. We can more easily protect ourselves from contraception if we know how to and choose to do so.”

“Oh.” I sit back with an exhale. “Yeah. Okay.”

“But Rayze can’t,” she says, her voice softer. “That’s all I can say.”

I glance between them, the real question I want to ask burning at the tip of my tongue. “Fate didn’t save her after Squallspire, did she?”

“Not immediately. No.”

My heart breaks. “Why didn’t she tell me?” I ask after a tense silence, my voice cracking. I clear my throat and roll my shoulders back, adjusting in the couch cushion as they watch me.

“A Daughter doesn’t have secrets, Ivor,” Aleksi explains, her lips pressing into a thin line of discomfort. “We carry bombs.”

I blink at her. “The fuck is a bomb?”

“Ancient mortal slang from before the multiverse spawned,” she continues as if I should have any idea what she’s talking about.

She notices my confusion and waves me off.

“It was this device that could explode and kill a bunch of people. A Daughter’s secrets are a lot like that.

What we keep to ourselves, it roots in our magic.

Let it sit long enough, and when we set it free, it just kind of erupts.

So when we grieve, if we grieve, we have to be strategic or we could hurt a lot of innocent people. ”

I study the two of them. “So you just bottle everything up. That can’t be healthy.”

Sonya shrugs. It isn’t , she signs.

“But emotion anchors us. It lets us hold on, even when we can’t.

It might seem backwards to you, but to us, strategic release is what keeps us alive, and if the only emotion one of us has felt for as long as we can remember is pain and rage,” Aleksi finishes with a grimace.

“We tend to bottle it even if something better comes along because that’s what we’re used to. ”

I sit back into the couch, my stomach clenching with what she’s implying.

“Rayze really didn’t say anything?” Aleksi asks, her voice softer.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She sort of mentioned the bomb thing, but not in the same way.”

“She has a really hard time understanding emotion when it isn’t those two,” she says.

Sonya signs.

“Most Daughters do,” Aleksi interprets. “It sucks, but it also is what it is. I mean we hope that maybe one day our power can be rooted in something like love.”

She refills her flask and, surprisingly, hands it straight to me. “Our turn, Heir.” She eyes me curiously. “Do you want kids?”

Fuck.

I guzzle the flask and hand it to her. She refills it and passes it back. I rub my brow. “Honestly? I didn’t think much about it. Having a kid as an Heir means passing on a whole lot of shit, and I guess I hoped Synlon would be different by the time I needed to make the decision.”

I lean forward.

“I don’t need a kid to be happy,” I continue, “but if Rayze ends up wanting a family one day, I’ll make sure it happens. Gods know there’s plenty of kids part of the Skin Trade that deserve a woman like that as a mother.”

I glance at them, the two of them so quiet I swear they’re holding their breath.

“What?” I ask.

Aleksi tries to hide a smile and fails. “You’re just a big ole softie, aren’t you?”

I glare at her and throw down my unreasonable amount of matches. “So what if I am? You better be careful, Red. As one, I can spot fellow softies from a realm away, and you’ve got the look.”

Aleksi blanches. “The look?”

“Mhmm.” I look to Sonya. “I’m right, aren’t I, Fangs?”

Sonya shrugs but flashes me a quick wink, and I laugh.