Page 60 of Runes To Rain
Well, that is, except Dio.
He’s leaning slightly against the back wall, facing me directly, his hands shoved into his pockets. His shirt is wrinkled, and his hair is longer than I’ve seen it and messy. I watch him clench his jaw, his face a mask of emotions, most ofwhich I can’t read at this moment. His cheeks are more hollow than I remember, and his shirt is looser; he has clearly lost weight.
Before I can begin to wonder what happened to him, I sense the feeling of shadow at my periphery and turn to see Malam.
His gaze quickly scans over me, and I see rage briefly cross his face before he can compose himself.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can utter a word, I say to him, “I need to speak with you privately.”
He nods but gestures at someone behind my back and says, “Fem,” in a clear order for Fem to come with us.
I shake my head at him as I move to the office door and say, “Just you.”
He bows his head and then follows me into the room.
Once in the office, I place myself behind the chair facing the door, holding the back of it to give me some support. I am unwilling to sit for this conversation.
Malam closes the door and then turns to me and strides closer. As he gets near, I move to keep the chair between us, and he stops.
His face is a mask of anger as he glares at me. “I can smell the blood on you,” he says with a snarl.
“I can handle it,” I say, still meeting his eyes.
For better or worse, I’m not the person I was before. There is no reason to share what I went through with him. I am sure he has some conjecture, but there is no need to confirm it. This isn’t his battle. He created me with a purpose, and I will fulfill it.
Almost as though he can read those thoughts on my face, I see his posture relax slightly, and he takes a step back to sit in a chair facing me. “At least tell me what happened to your face and hand,” he says.
“I got into a fight with another prisoner,” I say, meeting his eyes while I carefully mask my face against the lie.
From the expression on his face, he doesn’t believe me, butinstead of asking more questions about my injuries, he growls, “What did you want to talk about then?”
“Was it you who got me out?” I ask.
“No,” he says, and I see pain on his face at that statement. “You know my position in this. Action begets action, and in this, my hands were tied. I won’t be the one to break the unspoken truce.”
“Then how?” I ask.
“The band worked it out,” he says.
I nod silently.
I don’t need the details at this moment; I just had my suspicions that it was all part of a plot by the angels. If they had chosen to release me of their own accord, I was aware that it was likely part of a trap. That might have changed the landscape on the map in my head, potentially forcing a specific path. I take a breath, relaxing slightly as I process the information that it was instead the boys who got me released.
Malam is clearly appraising whatever expression is showing on my face.
“Bonum was there,” I finally say to him, breaking the silence.
“Based on the description Reem gave me of the officials who arrested you, I gathered that,” he says.
“I don’t think Bonum agreed with what happened to me,” I say, knowing I risk more questions about my condition. It still needs to be said.
Malam closes his eyes and scrubs his hand across his face. When he opens them, I briefly see the weight of ancient power he carries reflected in them. Then he blinks and it’s gone. “And yet their actions don’t speak to that,” he says grimly.
I can’t say I entirely disagree, so I remain quiet. I never intended to defend an angel’s actions to myself or to the leader of the demons. My instincts tell me I have done what I need for the time being.
“I took the sword so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands,” he finally says into the silence. “I will return one to you soon.”
“Thank you, Malam,” I say quietly, hoping he didn’t look at anything else under my bed when he took the sword.
