Page 36 of Prince of Night and Storm
“Didn’t you just say not to fool around?” I jiggle my foot in a staccato rhythm.
The hairs on my neck still stand at attention. I have the same questions and no clue of the answers. Not when thepossibilities throw everything I’d thought I understood about myself and Darkan into question.
The therapist labeled him as a splinter of my personality for years. A Fae therapist, not a clueless human.
Édouard watches my face. “I know your friends, the names and histories of every person in your circles since High Lord Maryonne birthed you.”
I stop jiggling my foot and stand, forcing him to back up a step—which he doesn’t. “You sound like a stalker, Arddie. Or somebody who desperately needs a new hobby.”
He lowers his chin, scowling. “You’re my hobby.”
“That’s news to Tereille.”
“No.” Édouard bares his teeth. “It’s not.”
I ball up my fists and slam them against his shoulders, pushing him away from me as I half-control a snarl. “Tell me what this is really about.”
He’s pissed about more than the fact that I pulled off a small miracle, demonstrating knowledge of a magical technique that should be beyond me in terms of strength and training—and is beyond him.
“You bridged us. There was never any indication you could function as an apex, much less a bridge. I don’t think even my Lords Maryonne and Danon suspected.”
Because he uses terminology I haven’t fully parsed, I sigh to myself and delve into the files of information Darkan flung at me before fleeing.
After a long moment sorting, I say, “Can you explain what that is using concise terms?” Small words, Arddie. Use small words.
Édouard stares at me, but maybe for once he realizes I’m nottrying to be difficult. He takes a half step back—the only sign of unease and I don’t think he realizes it. “An apex has learned to merge their power with another’s. It’s a prerequisite required to advance to another set of difficult to master skills. . .with a little s. Not the big S.”
Realms. He’s serious. Maybe I need to do some image control. “I understood the inference.”
“It almost is a Skill, though. Not everyone can learn. But if you can learn, then you can be taught.”
And the difference between affinity and a Skillisthat an affinity can be trained and reproduced. It’s not wild magic.
“It sounds like a gray area. So they merge their power with another’s. I can see how that might be useful, but it’s not inherently dangerous. Does it require consent?” That ups the danger scale, if consent isn’t required.
He frowns. “I’ll rephrase. They’re vampires. They can suck another’s power from them and manipulate it, the way some of the older bloodlines physically take blood.”
Well, shit. Consent not required then. “Indefinitely?”
“No. As with everything, the ability depends on the will and strength of the apex. All uses of our power depends on will and strength, whether it’s affinity or a Skill. . .or this gray area.”
If there’s a gray area, they were both once the same thing. We must have evolved over time. Or rather, the magic did. I’d not be surprised if the split was a result of selective breeding, which would explain the genetic mutations we think are causing the Skills. Some ambitious family or society attempting to conceive children with specific strains of power. It would be just like the High Fae to do that.
I start to rub my head, and don’t. “Fine. Tell me about a bridge.”
Édouard is silent, the calculating look in his eyes making plain that he weighs his words.
“Don’t hold out on me,” I warn. He will if he thinks I might be a danger.
“A bridge,” he says finally, “is why the prerequisite is to be an apex. A bridge combines the power of several individuals like links in a chain. The purpose being to?—”
“I get it. I did it.” Adding each person to the “chain” had strengthened our combined shield. “But an apex isn’t always a bridge.”
“No. The combination is uncommon, but not rare.” He narrows his eyes. “Still, it’s not a combination often taught. If you use the ability in front of an experienced mage, we’re screwed. They’ll know what you are. Hoard this ability the way you hoard all the secrets you should befuckingtelling me.”
And there goes his temper again.
But the note in his voice alerts me. “Why?”
