Page 86 of Starchaser
“Oh, Aster,” he chides, tilting his head. “It’s too late for your brothers. They’ve already volunteered—there’s no going back on that commitment. I thought, as a Bloodknight, you’d understand that. You’re bound by your oath—they’re bound by theirs.”
My arms tremble with rage, my nails biting into my palms. “Your note said I could still save them.”
He nods slowly, considering. “Yes, yes,” he says. “You can still save the rest of your family. I had rather devious plans for them should you have decided not to come tonight.”
I fight the urge to lunge at him—to thrust my blades into his chest. But I know that won’t do me any good. I’m not fast enough, and he’s practically invincible.
But I’m not.
I drop one dagger, letting it clatter to the stone, and point the other at my chest—directly over my heart.
He rolls his eyes. “A touch dramatic, don’t you think?”
I let the tip of my dagger bite, drawing blood.
His pupils dilate, the gold of his eyes thinning. “Aster,” he says slowly, breathlessly, “we need not play this game.”
“You marked me for death.” I hiss through the stinging pain ofthe blade pressing into my skin, sweat forming on my brow. “But you don’t want me dead yet, do you?”
His eyes narrow, his fingers twitching at his side. I feel his magic take hold of me, seizing my hands in its unyielding grip. He forces the blade deeper, breaking flesh. “If I didn’t want you dead, I could stop you,” he rasps, his voice dark, as deep as the depths of the ocean and as gritty as smoke. “Come along, before I change my mind about your family. You wouldn’t want them to suffer for your petulance, hmm?”
“No,” I say firmly, my hands shaking as I fight to resist his magic. “You need me to come willingly; otherwise, we wouldn’t still be here, would we?”
He laughs, the sound almost as violent and grating as a Gore, only far more sinister, like the distant roll of thunder.
My knees collide with the stone as his magic forces me to kneel.
He strides forward to stand over me, tall and menacing. “Why do you insist on fighting me?” He crouches down so that he’s eye level with me, his head cocked. “Don’t you realize,” he says, grasping my chin with his gloved hand, “I’m only trying to give you what you so desperately desire?” He leans in, his eyes searching mine as he dabs a finger in the blood pooling at the front of my dress. “Power, Aster.” He smears the blood over my lips, his eyes wild. “Can’t you taste it?”
I spit at his face, the blood spraying his bandaged mouth.
A low growl vibrates in the back of his throat as he straightens once more, the shadows encircling his towering form seeming to grow darker, denser.
“On your feet,” he commands, the rich, sonorous sound needling itself so deep in my mind, I withdraw the dagger from my chest and stand, the metal clanging as my weapon falls to the ground beside the other.
“Decide,” he barks, throwing out his hand. An invisible grip tightens around my throat, crushing my windpipe. “Or I will decide for you.”
My eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out of my skull. I attempt to make a sound, and he releases his magic hold on me just long enough for me to say, “Fine!”
He lets go, and I fall to the stone beside my daggers, heaving for breath.
“I’ll go willingly,” I pant, picking myself off the ground. “Under one condition.”
He chuckles, his demeanor once again cool and collected. “And what is that?”
I meet his gaze, searching his gilded eyes for something, anything that might give me an answer. “Tell me who you really are.”
Bang. Bang. Bang.A series of fireworks spray their colorful, glittering light over the rooftops, the golden shimmer reminding me ofManan.
He tilts his head again, eyes lit with curiosity. “You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?” His shadows begin to fade as he reaches for the bandages that cover his face, slowly unwinding the first strip, revealing his lips, his nose.… “I—”
BANG.
At first, I think it’s just another firework, but it sounded so close—the shot still ringing in my ears, the crackle of the fireworks now muffled and distant.
The Underling’s golden eyes narrow—widen.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, and blood dribbles over his lips, onto his chin.
