Page 151 of A Grave Not Made For Mourning
I ignore him.
Lucian sits next to me, and I stay silent for a while. As Lucian looks at Azaire’s tree, he feels unmistakable guilt. I watch him carefully, from the corner of my eye, trying to understand why.
Finally, I find my courage and ask, “Why do you feel like guilt?”
Lucian shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Because I am guilty.”
I turn to him, searching for his gaze. If I can just see his eyes, I won’t need a verbal answer, I’ll feel it.
“It’s because of Desdemona?” I ask.
He must know she’s involved with the monsters and Lilac’s attack.
“Desdemona?” Lucian repeats, confused, leaving me just as bewildered.
Could it be possible he’s severed his ties to her for another reason? Maybe he doesn’t know about the monsters—aside from Azaire’s death.
“Oh.” I tug at the grass, my fingers fumbling. “It isn’t.”
Lucian turns to face me, but this time, I don’t meet his gaze. “Why do you bring her up?”
He doesn’t know.
“I… thought that you thought she was involved in all this. After your theatrics.”
“Do you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Think she is involved?’
“Yes,” I admit, unable to keep the certainty from my voice. “She’s a smart liar.”
“How so?”
I think of her necklace. The way she evaded my questions so effortlessly.
“Never once have I been able to catch her.”
“Perhaps she was telling the truth,” Lucian suggests, his tone sharp.
“No.” I shake my head. “She just knows how to get around the questions.”
“As you know how to get around a subject.” Lucian’s voice drips with a self-satisfied edge, as if he caught me on a technicality. “What are you not saying?”
I let out a long, strange sigh. If I tell him about the prophecy, I can get him on my side. He’s probably our best chance of getting close enough to Desdemona for the kill.
“There was a prophecy,” I say. “It felt like… theend. I tried to kill her before it could commence. I didn’t try well enough.”
I feel Lucian’s reaction—something between anger and intrigue. I thought he would be relieved, maybe even pleased that I’m standing with him against Desdemona.
“Go on,” he says instead.
I want Lucian on my side. I wantAzaireon my side, next to me, here.
I continue. “Then there was the kapha. I could feel it trying to communicate with her. If we can stop the prophecy at its source, we have a moral obligation to. And if she’s involved with—” I cut off, unable to get the words out.
Then we have to avenge him,I think.
I have a feeling Lucian knows what I mean.
But somehow, he doesn’t agree. He shakes his head, his voice steady. “A prophecy isn’t a good enough reason.”
