Page 133 of House of Malice
Gondalez completely ignored Rufus, glaring at Galliermo with endless hatred. His hair was disheveled, his white shirt untucked and wrinkled. There was blood on his brown pants, and his eyes were bloodshot and red as if he had been crying—
Galliermo huffed as the Book Gondalez tossed at him hit the middle of his chest. He looked at the sigil of the House of Rats at the front.
“Do whatever it takes to win, huh?” Gondalez asked, and his voice sounded hollow and haunted. He brushed a hand over his hair. “Well, congratulations, you won. You won, you piece of shit.”
Gondalez spread his arms, taking a step back. His eyes were wild.
“But let me tell you something. You didn’t win only the Game tonight,” he said. Then he took a step forward and brought his face to Galliermo’s. “You won yourself an eternal enemy. For as long as I fucking live, you won’t have peace. I will find a way to take everything you hold dear, everything that matters to you. And I won’t fucking stop until every single one of you is absolutely ruined.”
“What’s your problem, Gondalez?” Octavia asked, crossing her arms. “It’s just a fucking Game. If you don’t like it, why don’t you switch—”
“She was pregnant!” Gondalez turned away from them, and the scream that tore his chest sent goose bumps down Galliermo’s back. When Gondalez turned to face them again, his eyes were full of tears. “She was pregnant with our first child. A daughter. A daughter I will never get to meet. And now she’s also gone… Just gone…”
He muttered something to himself that Galliermo couldn’t understand. They all stood frozen in shock.
“She was my beautiful, beautiful wife-to-be,” Gondalez whispered. Then he shook his head as if realizing where he was. “You will fucking pay for it. Sooner or later, you will pay for it.”
He walked off, slamming the metal gate behind him.
Octavia was the first to break the silence.
“Did you know she was pregnant?” she asked, looking at all of them. “Did any of you know?”
Alatar remained silent, his eyes dark. He exchanged a quick glance with Galliermo, and that didn’t go unnoticed by their High Priestess.
“You?” Octavia demanded, glaring at both of them.
Galliermo cleared his throat, tilting his chin. “We saw them both a while back at the library. Gondalez had his hand on her belly, and they were both whispering sweetly, so it was pretty obvious.”
Lyra placed the tips of her left hand to her lips and started murmuring what Galliermo thought was a prayer.
“And you didn’t—” Octavia paused, shaking her head. She covered her mouth with a hand and turned away from them.
“You should have said something,” Demitria said, and Galliermo turned to see her standing at the top of the stairs in her blush nightgown.
“Why does it matter?” Alatar asked. “Since when do we care what happens to other Houses and their members?”
“This is different, Alatar,” Reverie said.
“Oh, is it?” Alatar turned to her. “How is it different from what happens in Old Haven every year during Litha’s celebration, huh?”
Reverie pressed her lips into a thin line. She exchanged a glance with her sister and didn’t say anything else.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Octavia said. “No children were supposed to be hurt. Current or future. We crossed the line.”
Alatar scoffed, walking away from them. “Octavia, when are you going to learn that there are no fucking lines?”
52
Alecto turned and saw the Dean standing in the doorway. He had a hand placed around the back of Galia’s neck. Her jaw was tight, and he looked at them, amused.
“It is quite disturbing to see clones of myself, I must say,” he said, then smiled. He took a step forward, forcing Galia to walk with him. “I hope the spell won’t last too long.”
None of them answered, frozen.
“You are aware that you are defying Venefica’s laws by breaking into my home?” the Dean asked, his voice low. “Not to mention the real laws of trespassing. But I suppose obeying the rules is simply not in your blood.”
His last words were soaked with hatred, even if he delivered them in a nice and polite way.
