Blade Song (17 page)

“Pretty light show,” I said. “You boning up for a gig on Broadway or what?”

She stiffened and the fire died away. Her eyes narrowed on my face. “Excuse me?”

I shrugged. “Well, a few minutes ago you were all combative and serious shit. Now you’re dancing. Figured you were showing off and I might as well show my appreciation. It’s very pretty. You should add some music, though.”

“How about I show you pretty and melt your sword?”

Why in the hell did everybody always try that? I wondered. They were going to bend it, break it and now she threatened to melt it. “Think you can?” I asked, glancing down at it.

“Oh, I know I can.”

The arrogance and laughter in her eyes goaded me. “How about this—I have a couple of questions, and they are easy ones. If you can’t melt the sword in thirty seconds, then you answer the questions.”

“Fine.” Then a smug smile curled her lips. “But you have to hold it.”

“Tate…” Es stepped up. “If you harm somebody I’ve invited into my house, I’ll be very displeased.”

Tate didn’t look concerned.

Es rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked over at her and shook my head. Damon swore and grabbed me. I shrugged him off and drew my blade, holding it out in front of me.

I smelled of magic. I knew that.

But there was more magic in the top two inches of my blade than I had in my entire body. It was just a quieter magic. One nobody ever really saw.

“Have at it, firefly,” I said, smiling.

I felt the heated jolt. Three seconds in, the metal heated enough to I was starting to feel it. But the blade held up fine. Ten seconds in, my hand started to burn.

By twenty seconds, Tate was no longer smiling. I could smell my own flesh scorching. I dealt with the pain the same way I’d always dealt with it—I blocked it out. I’d block it out to survive, to get through whatever in the hell I had to get through.
I am aneira—my heart is strong
—

“Enough,” Es said after the thirty seconds ended. Tate kept going.

“I said enough!”

Power ripped through the air, icy and white, cutting off the stream of Tate’s power and I gasped as the backlash travelled up the blade. She was glowing—white hot. And pleased. She liked magic. Loved it.

Before any of them could notice, I banished the blade and had to clench back a scream as the hilt all but ripped away from my burnt flesh.

Black dots danced in front of me.

A hard, brutal palm gripped my arm, fingers digging into my flesh. Damon shook me a little. “Okay, witch. She won. Questions now.”

“Fucking cheat,” Tate spat out. “That was an enchanted blade.”

“I never said it wasn’t. And you never asked.”

My palm throbbed. Screamed.

Think past it—have to think past it
—

“The witch,” I said, falling back on instinct. Shock was trying to settle in and I knew if I wasn’t careful, I’d pass out right there. Not good, not good. “The kid who disappeared. The car. What can you tell me about them?”

A frown darkened her face. “What do you care about them? She was unaffiliated, alone. Her dad was an asshole and wouldn’t let her come here, even when he was told it wouldn’t cost him anything.”

Green Road operated on a tuition and tithe basis. But kids who couldn’t pay to attend the schooling could still come on a scholarship basis. Many of the witches were very, very wealthy, and most of them believed in taking care of their own.

“The kid. The car,” I said again. “Anything you can remember?”

“No car. SUV. Florida plates.” She rattled off a number, one I couldn’t recall for the life of me, but it didn’t dawn on me to ask her to repeat it. “Humans with her. I figured she was whoring for money. Some of us have to.”

“She was just a kid,” Damon said, his voice full of disgust.

“So was I,” she said. “Didn’t stop me.”

“Anything about the humans?” I asked, cutting in.

“Snakes. The whole lot of them. The kind you just want to see die.” She smiled and leaned toward me with a conspiratorial wink. “They were the kind I used to burn in the backyard, up until my dad found out what I was doing. Then he tried to beat the fire out of me. Literally. So…I burned him.”

“Bully for you.”

Chapter Twelve

Es was speaking.

I barely heard her.

I was cold. All over cold.

A hand came over the back of my neck and shoved my head down between my knees. “Breathe, kitten,” somebody rumbled, a familiar voice.

It tickled something in my memory. Kitten. Didn’t like that.

“…
something for her hand
…”

Voices roared around me, echoing in my ears.

A softer one, that didn’t make much sense. Then his. Damon. Demonic Damon. Pain in my ass.

“I don’t care. You’re going to either heal her hand yourself, or you’re going to get somebody in here to do it for you, or I’ll take it personally.”

A soft laugh tinkled through the room. Dimly, I realized this wasn’t good. I needed to think past the pain that seemed to be snaking up my entire arm. It was a burn. I’d been burned before. Granted, never this bad. And shit, I had to get it healed, but I could call Colleen and she’d help me. Somehow. She’d help.

I made myself sit up, staring at the black and red meat that made up my hand.

“Calm down, Damon,” I said. The thin, high sound of my voice didn’t sound very reassuring. Clearing my voice, I tried again. “I’m fine.”

“Your hand looks like a Texas barbecue gone bad. You’re not fine.”

“No. No, you’re not,” Es murmured. “Child, you suffer from an excess of great stupidity or great bravery. I’m not sure which.”

She came around to me and nudged Damon aside. “Move over, cat. I’ll fix her.”

He glared at the back of her head but fell silent.

She settled in the chair next to me. “You know, we’ve measured her ability to generate heat…for short periods of time, she can put out over fifteen hundred degrees. You understand how dangerous that was?”

“My blade can take it.”

“Humph. The blade, yes.” She caught my hand and turned it, forcing the cooked meat of my palm upright. “But look at what it did to you.”

“Hey, it got me the information I wanted.”

“Silly child…I could have gotten you that, if you’d given me time,” she murmured. Her fingers were cool on my wrist.

“But Doyle might not have time. And the next time I need to ask her something, maybe she’ll be a little more likely to give it to me if she views me as more than just dirt on her boots.” I groaned as I felt the first brush of her magic. “I may not be her equal, but she knows I won’t roll over like a dog for her, either. Her kind respects strength.”

“True enough. But you took pain…and Tate isn’t capable of that. I don’t know if she’ll respect you for that, or hate you.” She deepened her hold and then looked at Damon. “You might want to hold her shoulders.”

My breath started to come in harsh, heavy pants. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You may scream. Nobody will hear you but us.”

“No.” I scrambled at my waist for my belt but pain and panic made me clumsy.

“Child, we need to hurry. The longer we delay, the more risk there is for permanent damage.”

I nodded jerkily, still clawing at my belt.

“Shit,” Damon muttered, hauling me back from the table.

He crouched in front of me, trying to see what I was doing. “Why are you messing with your belt, Kit?”

“Knife.” My teeth were chattering now. Shock? The pain? I didn’t know.

“Bad time to decide to stab me,” he said. “You couldn’t fight off a puppy right now.”

“Knife…”

“Okay, okay…” He worked the knife sheath off my belt and pulled out the knife, but I knocked it aside and reached for the sheath.

His face tightened in a scowl and he held it for a second. Finally, though, he let it go.

As he eased me back to the table, I shoved the leather between my teeth.

In the back of my mind, I could hear the echo of a laugh.
Scream for me, granddaughter. It’s the only time I enjoy hearing your voice. Scream…let me know how easily you break
.

As the bright edge of pain broke through me, I bit the leather and struggled to hold back the screams.

Scream…you useless waste
.

I woke to darkness.

Cool, complete darkness.

My body felt too heavy to move and I groaned, struggling to lift a hand to my face, but even that took too much energy.

Groaning, I muttered, “Great. Just great.”

“Tell me about it.”

Gurgling out a yelp, I tried to scramble out of the bed, but I couldn’t even move. A full-fledged healing wasn’t much different than coming off a bad case of the flu. It was short-lived, and after I had a meal and a few hours of rest, I’d be okay.

Oh, and I needed to get the hell away from the bastard lying in the bed next to me.

Damon leaned over and snapped on the lamp on the bedside table. It brought him entirely too close to me. If I could have shrunk into the bed, pulled away, jabbed him with a hot poker, any of those things, I would have.

As it was, I couldn’t even find the strength to reach for the damn blankets. And I was cold.

He stayed where he was, on his elbow, peering down into my face. “How do you feel?”

I closed my eyes.

A soft laugh drifted from him. “That good, huh?”

I flexed my hand, rotated it.

“You go ahead and call your sword, baby girl, if it will make you feel better, but you’ll just drop it. You can’t hold it right now and you know it.”

I opened my eyes to glare at him. “Fu…”

Well. That went well. Clearing my throat, I managed to rasp out, “Fuck off.”

“Nice manners.” He reached over and caught my wrist, dragging it in front of my face. “She fixed it, completely. Don’t worry, once you can drag your pretty tail out of this bed, you’ll be good as new.”

I closed my eyes again.

“You know, I had no idea a full healing would hit you so hard. The quiet is nice.”

I kept my eyes closed.

After a few minutes, the pervasive weakness took over and I retreated back into sleep.

Let me in, darling
…

I felt Jude whispering at the edges of my mind.

Grunting, I turned away and tried to block him out. The chill of his presence was something I just didn’t want right then, although if he pushed, I didn’t know if I could fight him off.

I was too tired.

What is wrong
?
You feel sick. Or ill
—

I continued to ignore the press against my mind, struggling to wake up, but the bonds of sleep were…powerful. Too powerful. And that cold chill pressed so close. Shivering, I wiggled away from it, instinctively seeking out the warmth I felt in the bed.

Warmth.

Strength.

Part of me knew exactly what that warmth and strength was.

The rest of me didn’t care.

As strong arms came around me, the cold chill faded away and I sank back into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“
Scream
.”

The whip came flying through the air again.

I’d bitten my lip bloody and I knew I’d scream again.

But not yet—

“Scream, you useless waste.”

A broken whimper escaped me as the edge of the whip came around, the tip licking the bottom curve of my breast.

“You tried to enter the Dominari.”

I tensed, certain for the next lash of the whip.

It didn’t come.

“You actually think you can
run
the Dominari.”

Her voice was a mocking, ugly laugh as she came close. Her hand shot out, fisted in the long tangle of my hair, jerking my head back. “Why do you bother?”

Because I’d fail.

The race was brutal and cruel, and of the twenty or so students who ran it every year, nearly half of them had to be rescued or they’d die on the course. Of course, they always called for help. I’d screw up. And when I faltered, I wouldn’t call for help. I planned to go out there and die. It was my best chance at escape.

“You know you can’t survive such a…Oh. Oh…now I see.”

Her mocking laughter surrounded me and once again, the whip lashed through the air.

Once more, I woke and I was unable to move.

It wasn’t weakness that kept me pinned immobile, though.

This time, it was arms. Massively muscled arms that held me sprawled atop a massively muscled chest. One arm was banded across my upper back. The other hand cradled my head.

Cradled
—

I tensed, squeezing my eyes closed. Okay. This was awkward. I didn’t know entirely why I was sprawled across Damon’s body, or why he was clutching me like an overgrown doll, but he wasn’t cradling anything. Probably debating on the best way to snap my neck when My Lady told him to.

“Go back to sleep,” he muttered.

I shoved against his chest.

Those arms didn’t loosen one single bit.

He heaved out a sigh and rolled and now, instead of sprawling across his body, I was pinned under it and that wasn’t any better. Not at all. Startled, I stared up into his face. The storm clouds in his eyes were sleepy and his short hair was about as mussed as it was ever going to get. “Can’t you ever just do what you’re told?” he asked irritably.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

“Well, I was sleeping,” he drawled. “And it was the first peaceful night’s sleep I’ve had since the kid disappeared, too. Hard to sleep soundly when I’m keeping one ear cocked for whatever harebrained scheme you’ve got cooked up, but since I figured you’d have a hard time getting out of the bed without waking me, I figured it was a good time to let my guard down.”

“Why in the hell are you in my bed?”

“Easy.” He sprawled on top of me, pressed far, far too close for comfort, seemingly completely content to do so. “It’s not your bed. The witches only had the one open room and I wasn’t about to sleep on the floor when there was a giant king-sized bed up here. You’re a little thing. How was I to know you’d end up on top of me?”