Page 16 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
I raised the knife again, but didn’t throw yet, letting my eyes mark the spot where his brand would rest beneath his tunic to gauge the distance between us. The entire alleyway had gone mute, as if Steeler had blasted a bubble around us. I couldn’t even hear the constant whining of the insects anymore.
“You mean in all your sick fantasies you used to subject me to,” I went on, shifting my stance ever so slightly, just as Jagaros had taught me, “I never got to play with you like you got to play with me?”
Something shuttered in Steeler’s eyes at that. Like the smoky quartz had sunk into the deep, dark cavern that was his wretched soul.
“All I need you to do,” he said, his voice as dark and fathomless as it had been in my head two days ago, “is take this for me.”
He raised his hand, and in the ribbon of moonlight shining down into the alleyway, I saw a single, pearl-sized capsule between his fingers.
What the hell was it? Some kind of Manipulating drug? A sedative, perhaps, or something to make my head hurt?
Of course, the pain in my head had gone curiously quiet, but perhaps that was just my adrenaline overriding it.
“I’ll bite your hand off if you bring that thing anywhere near my mouth,” I said, and threw the new knife.
It spiraled in midair, but it was so much lighter than my crescent one that my aim was off. I watched it draw close to him and slice past his jaw.
Then Steeler moved so fast, my scream didn’t have time to leave my throat before two strong hands were pushing me against the Manipulator house wall, anchoring my wrists above my head.
The knife clattered to the ground a half second later.
“Get off me.”
It was all I could say, even though I knew he wouldn’t. God of the Cosmos, I’d never seen anything move as fast as him—unless he was jumbling up my brain’s sense of speed and time.
I couldn’t help what I did next. Couldn’t help thrashing and yanking and kicking and squirming, trying to break that hold of his on me like the snared mouse I was. Every point of contact between us seemed to shock me, like little zaps of lightning trying to strike me down.
Steeler just surveyed me, unmoving and unrelenting.
I went still, panting, and cranked my head up to look at him. This close, I could smell his breath and sweat and—was that black bamboo? Had he been spying on my sessions with Jagaros, hanging out among the plants? Or was this another trick, another way to sedate me?
“Get off me,” I said again, this time through gritted teeth.
“Are you going to reach for another knife and deliver another nick to my jaw if I do?” Steeler asked, cocking his head. Satisfaction squirmed through me as I saw the small trail of blood oozing from the cut I had inflicted. Just a nick, but enough to sting.
I’dabsolutelyreach for another knife to do that again if given the chance.
“No,” I said.
Another one of those wicked smiles flew to his face, and now I could’ve sworn his teeth were as sharp and pointed as the rumors claimed about those pirates beyond the dome. He knew I was lying. He didn’t even have to enter my mind to hear those loud and proud thoughts that were probably wafting right to him.
I tried not to let my eyes flick to the vines crawling up the wall of the opposite Wild Whisperer house. One hum, and I couldhave them lasso his neck like a noose. But—shit. From the way his grin sharpened, those teeth flashing like goddamned fangs, I knew he was hearing that plan unfurl as surely as if I’d said it out loud.
I’d have to wait, then, until he was thoroughly distracted. There could be no forethought, no warning, or else he’d be able to move out of the way in time with that strange lightning speed of his.
“Tell me where you learned to play like that,” Steeler said carefully, nodding down at the slit in my dress where I’d pulled the knife from. “Is Dyonisia Reeve teaching you? I’ve never seen that sheath before.” His eyes skimmed up and down my body. “Or that dress.”
I’ve never seen that sheath before.And what had he said earlier? Helloagain? I’d thought he was referencing our first meeting since he’d erased all my memories three months ago, but what if…?
My breath left me in a single, livid gush.
“You haven’t just been watching me while I sleep,” I hissed as the realization poured into me. I didn’t care that his eyebrows shot up. Didn’t care that he almost seemed to loosen his grip on me before pressing in harder. “You’ve been meeting me,talkingto me, forcing me to take whatever the hellthatis—”
I nodded upward at his hands around my wrists, where he’d kept that single pill safely and firmly pinched between thumb and finger. Our altercation hadn’t made him fumble it an inch.
“You’re doing this every week,” I breathed out, hating him, hating him, hating him, “then erasing my memory of it every time.”
Steeler spared a half-glance sideways, as if checking to make sure his little Mind Manipulating bubble around us was still intact. It was.
