Page 51 of Brimstone
I hadn’t expected him to tell me, but I’d still figured it was worth asking. “I didn’t have you pegged as a tavern owner, Taladaius. There’s an awful lot of fucking and feeding going on out there, y’know.”
I went to pick up the obsidian crow’s head paperweight from the vampire’s extraordinarily tidy desk, but he slapped my hand away from it, growling irritably. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.Where is your mate?”
I did a three-sixty, taking in the artwork on the walls and his shelves and shelves of books. He had quite the collection. It smelled good in here—like dry paper and earth, warm vanilla and chocolate. Comforting. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said in a singsong voice. “Nowhere in this realm that I could really pinpoint right now.”
Taladaius stared at me blankly.
“Do you not need to blink?Ineed to, but maybe that’s my half-Fae side.”
Very slowly, he closed his eyes and left them that way. “Tellme he hasn’t gone through the quicksilver again.”
I sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, studying him quietly for a moment. Again, I went to pick up the crow’s head, but when I reached for it, a rope of fire lashed up my arm. I was wearing my gloves—the God Bindings were still best hidden from prying eyes for the time being—but light spilled out of the bottom of the leather cuff, washing up my arm.
Ow.
My hand shook violently. I shoved it into my armpit, pinning it against my side, screwing my eyes shut as I waited for the pain to pass.
“Saeris? What’s wrong?”
I dropped my hand into my lap. The light seeping out of my glove was no longer visible, but the pain was still breathtaking. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Wow, I needed to find a Sanasrothian actors’ troupe and start auditioning for parts; I really sounded like I was telling the truth.
Despite my plausible performance, I could tell that Taladaius wasn’t convinced. Not that he contradicted me. “If Kingfisher isn’t in Yvelia right now, I need to know.”
I slumped back into the chair. “You do?”
“Yes! The entire Blood Court knows what Fisher is capable of. He reminded them when he scythed Ereth down like he was a stalk of brittle wheat in the Hall of Tears. Which, by the way, is causing all kinds of headaches for me. There can’t befourLords of Midnight, Saeris. Therehaveto be five, which means that a vote now has to be organized . . .” He stopped himself, huffing. “Never mind that. Look, people are too scared to act against you while Fisher’s around. They’ll be willing to try their luck if they think you’re weak or unprotected. We need to post extra guards at your rooms.”
“Donotpost extra guards.” Pain shot up my arm like liquid lightning, pooling in my shoulder. I tried not to flinch. “If you don’t want me to look weak, you should remove the guard detail that’s already assigned to my rooms. My edict prevents them from stepping out of line, anyway.”
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
I wanted to scream.
My runes were burning through my skin again, all the way down to the bone.
“Mm,” Taladaius said, drumming his fingers along the edge of his desk. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s think about it a moment. In the meantime, why are you hiding your hand down there?”
“I’m not hiding my hand.” But I was. I had it tucked between my knees under his desk, and I was pressing it between my thighs in the vain hope that that might make the pain go away.
“Saeris. I’m going to let you off because you’re new to all of this, but a vampire can’t lie to its maker. A blue aura comes off you when you try. The stronger the aura, the bigger the lie, and right now, you’re lighting up my office like a torch. But even if you weren’t, I can feel that you’re in pain. Alotof pain. Tell me what’s going on.”
Every now and then, I had gotten sick in the Third. After my mother was killed, there had been no one to tend to me while I was ill. Hayden was too young and irresponsible to rely on, and anyway, it was my job to look after him, not the other way around. It hadn’t felt right, asking Elroy for help. He had already given me work and offered what protection he could from Madra’s guardians, so asking for anything else had felt like too much. So I had been alone. I had shivered my way through fevers without an arm around my shoulder or any words to comfort me. I had told myself I didn’t need the help, because I couldn’thave it, and what was the point of craving something that would never come? I had convinced myself so thoroughly of this—that I was strong, that I was all I needed, that I didn’twantanyone else’s concern—that now it made me feel like crawling out of my own skin when anyone showed the slightest bit of care for me.
But apparently it was impossible to lie to Taladaius, so I didn’t have much choice but to tell him the truth.
“My marks,” I said. “They keep flaring.” It was the only way to describe it. “I can feel this pressure building inside of me. All the time. And sometimes, it . . . it swells. It feels like it wants to burst out of my skin. And then it just . . . goes away.”
My maker looked down at my hands. “Take off the gloves. Show me.”
Absolutely no part of me wanted to do that. But I did it. I was too tired. Tired of putting up the front. Tired of telling myself I had to deal with everything by myself, when, for the first time since my mother died, I had people again. I wasn’taloneanymore.
I showed him my hands. Taladaius didn’t react when he saw the blackened skin around my runes. Nor did he comment about the fact that they were still glowing, or that they had nearly corroded their way through my skin and hit bone. He twisted his ring of office around his index finger, spinning it so that the warm citrine-colored stone at its center caught the light while he inspected my runes, and his calm confidence and lack of panic eased my own.
I told him about the visit with Everlayne that had unexpectedly turned into a visit with Edina. I described what had happened with my runes then and told him what Edina had said about my Alchemist’s runes being unsealed. I even told him about Edina’s warning that I needed to find her book in the libraries at Cahlish. After all, she’d told me not to breathe a word of it to Fisher, but she hadn’t said anything about enlisting thehelp of a vampire lord. When I was done, Taladaius mulled the information I had given him over, his storm-gray eyes distant. Eventually, he said, “And she spoke to you? Edina? She had an actualconversationwith you?”
