Queen of Monsters and Madness Page 46

  Kissing had ceased to mean anything to her in the prior months. He had done that.

  Her lips trembled. She wanted to forget all the former kisses. If she could have one wish, it would be to erase every depraved kiss stolen from her.

  Sage surged forward and kissed Tehl with an intensity that had her head spinning.

  “Sage,” he growled, his arms loosening around her waist.

  “Make the hurt go away. Help me forget,” she whispered, nuzzling his lower lip. She pressed closer for another kiss when his hands cupped each of her cheeks, holding her back.

  “Love,” he whispered. “Not like this. He has no place here. This is just you and I.”

  Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes. What was she doing? Who had she become to use someone who cared about her?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Sage.”

  She shook head. “No, it’s not.”

  Tehl pulled her close and pressed his forehead against hers. “One day, we’ll get there. But it won’t be because we’re trying to forget.” Her eyes flew to his, and he gave her a small smile. “You’re not the only one who wants to erase those memories.”

  “Then why?”

  He kissed each of her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, and her chin before answering. “Because it won’t be because we’re in a rush, or because of fear, or the need to forget, or the need to claim.”

  She shivered at the word ‘claim’, and he rested his forehead against hers, not looking away.

  “It will be because we can’t bear to be apart. It will be because we desire to show honor and love to each other. It will be beautiful.” His smile became sinful. “And hot and perfect, because it’s us.” He brushed a droplet of water from her cheek with his thumb. “We will have what our parents had.”

  In that moment, she believed every word of his fairytale.

  It was a beautiful fantasy Sage would cling to, so she could survive reality.

  Sam

  “Again! You’re not fast enough,” Sam barked.

  Bodies slammed against each other, Maisy, a pale blur as she tried to take Ruth down.

  Ruth lost one of her daggers. She spun, ripping from something from the holster at her hip. A dart.

  One that held a serum that burned like the devil.

  Maisy’s eyes widened and then narrowed, blocking Ruth’s blow as she stabbed at her.

  Ruth ducked under Maisy’s arm, spinning beneath her grip as she drove her knee into the side of her.

  “Better,” Sam muttered, studying the two girls. Both were fast, but Ruth was scrappy. She had a dangerous edge to her that Maisy didn’t.

  Ruth attacked. Chop. Chop. Block. Punch.

  Maisy met every blow, her forearms slapping against the other spy, and he could see she didn’t expect the bigger girl to match her for speed.

  Even though Ruth was taller, she was just as nimble. She’d been training as a warrior since she was a child. Her trainers had stripped her reaction time from her, so everything was pure reflex. Because they had taught her how to read movements, she was always several steps ahead.

  Every time Maisy countered one of her blows, Ruth was ready for her, already disengaging and striking elsewhere.

  Maisy grunted as another knee took her high in the thigh.

  The dart flashed silver in the light as Ruth held the dart high, and Sam could see the choreography of Ruth’s final move as she lured Maisy into a combination that would lead to her writhing in pain.

  “Halt!” he called, raising his hand.

  Both girls froze, breathing heavily.

  Sam scanned the familiar faces of his spies. “That is what we’re looking for. You need to be speed itself and anticipate your partner’s next move. If you don’t, then…”

  Maisy rolled her right shoulder back and straightened. “Then you’ll be dead.”

  “Precisely,” he murmured. “The Scythians are faster and stronger than you. You need to be smarter about your blows.” He met the gazes of his trainees, one by one. “We can’t afford mistakes. It’ll mean your life and others.”

  It was a sobering thought that kept him up almost every night, that and the very sick brunette wasting away in the infirmary.

  “Dismissed.”

  He turned on his heel and strode toward the back entrance of his makeshift sparring room. He paused and tugged his shirt from a peg on the wall and pulled it over his head, and then tied his laces as his pupils filed out of the room.

  At some point, it was probably a food storage area, but it suited his purposes just fine with its high ceiling, many accesses, and being utterly forgotten. No one had stumbled into his little hideout in well over four years.

  Maisy caught his eye for a moment before he glanced away. It hurt to look at the girl. Her every mannerism reminded him of her sister. A sister who had disappeared months ago in Scythia. He’d sent the girl’s only family away and now she was alone. Not alone, she’d never be alone. His girls were his family. They may not share blood, but they shared a bond many would never experience.

  He sighed as she pushed to her feet and marched in his direction, determination in every step.

  “Sam?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot.

  He smiled at her and pointedly glanced to her feet. Her shuffling stopped, and she stilled. That was the funny thing about Maisy. In the field, she had no tells, but around those she trusted and loved, she was an open book. She couldn’t hide a damn thing.

  “Any news?” Her dark eyes were hopeful.

  Eyes that she shared with her sister. But that was the only thing. Whereas Maisy was fair and willowy, Lissa was swarthy and all curves. That’s what made her the perfect insurgent for Scythia. Lissa could pass for their people, but apparently not well enough. She’d gone silent over six months ago.

  Sam crossed his arms and pressed his lips together, hating that he had to tell her the truth. He wanted to lie to her, give her a pretty lie that would help her sleep at night. But he didn’t. “There’s been no news, Maisy.”

  Maisy’s shoulders slumped, and she swallowed a few times. “I expected that answer.”

  It was the same answer he’d given her week after week. It broke his heart each time he told her the truth, and a little more hope died in her eyes. Honestly, it was admirable that she still asked. Most shut down and mourned their loved ones.

  The girl nodded and pushed back her shoulders, her expression hardening. “I want to go in.”

  Sam nodded and took his time answering. “I know you miss your sister, but it’s not safe for you.”

  “And it was for Lissa?”

  “Lissa was in a different situation, and you know it.”

  “The situation has changed.”

  Sam leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You couldn’t blend in if you tried. You wouldn’t fit in.”

  “That’s the point. I don’t need to fit in. They’re taking women, Aermian women, women who look like me.”

  ‘Woman’ was a stretch. Maisy was beautiful—but she was still a girl, with an air of innocence surrounding her. It was one of the reasons she was such a damn good spy. No one suspected her cherubic face to be listening in.

  “That may be true, but I need you here.”

  “My sister needs me!” Her voice echoed in the room.

  He’d been waiting for this moment. All his girls hit a wall when they’d lost someone. Maisy had kept it together for longer than he’d expected, but she was starting to crack.

  She dashed angry tears from her cheeks. “How can I stay here when they’re doing God-knows-what to her?”

  His heart clenched, and he pulled her into a hug, patting her back. Since he’d released the information about what was happening to the women in Scythia to his network, his girls had been on edge, and he didn’t blame them. It was a person’s worst nightmare.

  “As I laid in bed last night, I wished she was dead,” Maisy hiccupped, “if that was the only way to spare her the horror of thos
e monsters. What kind of person does that make me?”

  Sam pulled back and cupped her face between his hands. “It means that you’re a caring, merciful person, and you don’t want those you love to suffer.”

  She blinked her big, watery eyes up at him. “I miss her.”

  “Me too,” he whispered and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, hugging her again.

  He didn’t offer platitudes or promises. There weren’t any promises in their line of work, but he could hold her together while she crumbled until she was strong enough to put herself back together.

  Her sobs quieted, and she pulled back, wiping her face on her sleeve.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah.” She stared at his shirt. “I’m sorry about all of that.” She waved a hand at his splotchy shirt that looked like a dog had slobbered all over it.

  “It’s nothing.”

  She shuffled from foot to foot. “Is there anything you need from me tonight?”

  “Are you working at the tavern later?”

  “No.”

  “Then go and get some sleep.”

  Maisy nodded and spun on her heel, snatching her cloak off the ground. She clasped it around her neck, hiding her trousers beneath. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. “You get some sleep, too, Sam.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She lingered for a moment and then disappeared out the door, leaving him to the cold silence of the stones. The silence seemed accusing. It rang in his ears, reminding him of all the people he’d lost to Scythia.

  He dragged a hand over his face, his scrub scratching at his palms. When was the last time he shaved? Hell. When was the last time he bathed?

  From the smell of him, it had been a while.

  He scanned the area one last time and blew out the remaining candles, casting the room into complete darkness. It engulfed him, seeming to caress his skin like an old lover. At one time, he’d been terrified by the darkness, but now he was more comfortable in the shadows than the light.

  Slipping out the doors, Sam wove through a maze of hallways and staircases by touch. His fingertips ran along the stone walls as means of a guide, though he’d had the way memorized for years. It was an old habit that he’d started as a child. A way to ground himself in the dark, so it didn’t feel like the darkness was swallowing him whole.

  Sam ghosted from the bowels of the palace and snuck through the darkened kitchen. Cook snored in the corner on her cot, her mouth wide open. He pulled her blanket up over her shoulder before silently creeping away.

  The older woman was a grim and gruff, but a gem nonetheless. She knew of his comings and goings and kept her mouth shut. His lips hitched up. Every now and again, she brought him little pieces of information.

  He rounded a corner, the infirmary coming into view. Despite himself, his pace picked up. He hadn’t been by to check on the village girl yet.

  Immense heat greeted him as he entered the room on silent feet. Mira stared blankly into the blazing fire while Jacob snored softly in his rocking chair. Sam paused when he got a good look at the third person in the room. Colm sat hunched over, his eyes closed, head nodding. The poor man hadn’t slept much in the last two weeks.

  The man-eater, he had since learned was named Nali, cracked open a golden eye and chuffed at him, before closing it again. They’d made friends over the last few days. He’d filched a haunch of ham and a few steaks for the beast, which she’d sincerely appreciated, if he went by all the purring. If only women were that simple: bring them some food and they’d be your best friend. Unfortunately, they were a lot more complicated.

  Sam halted next to the cot and placed a hand on Colm’s shoulder. The older man immediately straightened and blinked his eyes as if to clear the sleep from them.

  “Sam?” he said roughly.

  “Yeah.”

  Colm patted him on the hand and slumped back into his chair. Mira glanced tiredly over her shoulder at them, before turning back to the fire.

  “What are you doing here? You should go and get some sleep,” Sam said.

  The older man stared at Jasmine for a long moment. “She doesn’t deserve to be alone. To be without family.” He reached out a hand and ran it along the crown of the girl’s head. “She helped my Sage and for that, I owe her, and anyone who Sage considers family is also mine.” He pulled his hand back and rubbed it across his eyes. “I’ll care for her as my own.”

  Sam stared down at Colm’s head and hoped he ended up as good a man as Colm. His kindness and loyalty were something he admired.

  “I’m going to sit here through the night. I’ll make sure she’s not alone. Go get some sleep in a bed with your wife,” Sam said.

  His friend gave him a wolfish smile, despite the fatigue clearly riding him. “Never been one to pass up a night in bed with my wife.” His smile dimmed as he stared up at Sam. “You’ll look over her?”

  It was more than just a question. It was Colm asking if he would handle the responsibility the older man had deemed his own task.

  “I will,” Sam said.

  “Okay. I will see you in the morning.” Colm leaned close and placed a kiss on the village girl’s forehead. “You need to wake up, little miss. There are many people waiting for you.” He straightened and clapped Sam on the shoulder before strolling out of the room.

  Sam pulled the chair closer and plopped down into it. He rested an elbow on the arm of the chair, and leaned his cheek against his fist, watching the pale girl before him. “How is she?” he whispered.

  Mira sighed. “No worse, but no better.”

  If she became any worse, she’d die.

  He shied away from that thought. For some reason, this girl mattered to him. Of course, he cared about all human life, but there was something intriguing about her. Not to mention, she’d be a wealth of information. Information that could win the war.

  A drop of sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. How did the healers stand the heat? He loosened the ties at his throat. It was almost suffocating. Jasmine shivered. There was only one person in the room who wasn’t practically melting.

  He reached forward and plucked her clammy left hand from the cot and held it between his. “Today was an interesting day,” he spoke softly. “You probably would’ve enjoyed it immensely. I got slapped by a fisherwoman today.”

  “You probably deserved it, too,” Mira muttered.

  Sam grinned and rubbed Jasmine’s hand between his to work some heat back into her cool skin. “It depends which side of the story you heard, but I had a handprint on my face for several hours. Tehl, Gav, and—would you believe it—even Blaise, got in on the teasing.”

  His grin fell when Jasmine shivered so hard her teeth clacked together. He placed her hand underneath the blanket and fussed with the edge, despising the fact that he could do nothing but wait to see the outcome.

  “Now that’s a spectacle I would’ve liked to see,” a rusty voice said.

  Sam glanced to Jacob. The older man had stopped snoring when he’d come into the room. Cunning old coot. But they had more important things to speak about than his public slapping.

  “I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed it.” Sam eyed Mira and then glanced back to Jacob pointedly.

  Jacob’s unique bronze eyes traveled to Mira. “Darling, why don’t you go get some sleep?”

  “I’m not sleepy,” she said, her words slightly slurring.

  The Healer’s expression hardened. “What is my rule about exhaustion?”

  “Exhaustion—” A yawn. “—breeds mistakes.”

  “Exactly. You’ve pushed yourself beyond your limits. Please go and get a few hours of sleep.”

  Mira stared at her adopted father for a few moments before acquiescing. “I’ll go and find my bed for a few hours, but then I’ll be back,” she said, pushing from her chair. She pressed a kiss to Jacob’s weathered cheek before checking on the village girl and giving Nali a good scratch on the top of her head.

&
nbsp; Sam watched with a smile, as she eventually wandered out of the room after making sure everyone was okay. Jacob was a lucky man to have such a daughter and healer at his side.

  “She’s remarkable.”

  Jacob stared at the closed door. “I am a lucky father, and, as a Healer, there’s no one better to replace me when I die.”

  He scoffed. “You’ll never die.”

  A bark of laughter slipped out of the old man. “And you’ll settle down with a quiet-spoken girl someday.”

  “Who says I won’t?” Sam crossed his arms and smirked at Jacob. “I might marry your own daughter.”

  Jacob sniggered. “If you think Mira is quiet-spoken, you haven’t spent enough time around her.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? She’s got a bit of sauce to her, doesn’t she?” he joked.

  “That she does, but it’s tempered by her sweetness.”

  “Indeed.” Sam shifted in his chair to get comfortable and asked the question he’d been thinking about all day. “Have you discovered what was in that ring?”

  “There wasn’t much poison left in the ring to test. Gavriel and Lady Lilja have been helping. I think we might have come up with a similar poison, but I can’t be sure. I have no one to test it on.”

  That posed a problem. If they could replicate the poison from Sage’s ring, then it would give them an advantage in the war. From what he got from his sister-in-law’s few words was that it worked as a paralytic. If needed, he could get his hands on a Scythian to test, but it would be dangerous.

  Then there was the other option. Blaise. He could ask her to help with the experiment, but he didn’t want to. She was their ally. What if something went wrong with the poison? They couldn’t risk her death. But…she truly was the easiest route. All he had to do was walk down two corridors, up three flights of stairs to her, and ask.

  He exhaled harshly. “I’ll find you a subject.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “You’ll have your test subject by the end of the week.”

  “You’re not going to do something terribly dangerous, are you?”

  Sam smiled wickedly. “Why, no, I’m just going to do a little fishing.”