Page 74 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Every day, Ryker did something new to endear himself to her. She hadn’t glimpsed the monster once, nor had she seen or heard anything that would lead her to believe an evil man resided in his skin. That was a problem.

An enormous, horrifying problem.

Brynleigh released her shadows. They darkened the bathroom but did nothing to ease the anger and doubt running through her.

The Masked Ball was in two days. Tomorrow, they were returning to Golden City. Apparently, the Hall of Choice had been repaired after the attack. Brynleigh wasn’t worried about the journey or the rebels. The participants would be well-guarded, and she was strong enough to care for herself.

No, the problem lay entirely with Ryker. The more time she spent with the water fae, the more she learned about him and the more conflicted she became about her purpose.

He had killed her family in cold blood. By definition, that made him a monster. As someone with blood on her hands—blood of criminals, but still blood—she recognized when someone was evil.

But Ryker hadn’t shown her the monster. She hadn’t even glimpsed him. Where the fuck was he?

The captain was a sore loser—which secretly delighted Brynleigh, because one would think that a military man would be able to lose gracefully—but he was also kind, caring, and had a slight hint of possessiveness that Brynleigh enjoyed more than she dared admit.

Brynleigh groaned and shut off the water. She stepped out of the shower, toweling off. This would be so much easier if Ryker were evil.

Hanging up her towel, she strode back into the small bedroom. Sarai’s picture was on the nightstand, but even that didn’t spark the usual fire of revenge. She needed answers, and if she weren’t going to sleep, she’d focus on finding out what was going on.

Stepping into a pair of black leggings, Brynleigh pulled them up before drawing on a matching sweater. She threw her hair in a messy bun and drew the hood over her golden locks before sliding her sister’s picture into her pocket.

This was risky. The participants weren’t supposed to leave their rooms at night. The men and women were staying in different wings of the mansion, and the Matrons had made it very clear that although they were not currently in the Hall of Choice, the structure of the Choosing was still to be respected. These included following archaic laws such as remaining apart during the dating process and abstaining from sexual relations until the wedding night.

Brynleigh wasn’t sure what the recourse would be if she were caught, and she didn’t plan to find out. She had something the other women didn’t: shadows.

Darkness was a deep, powerful song in Brynleigh’s veins. Her shadows were always there, waiting to be used. Her wings were an equally powerful form of magic, but unlike the shadows that were her birthright, they didn’t itch to be set free if she didn’t use them enough. On the other hand, her shadows were an intrinsic part of Brynleigh, an extension of her limbs, and needed to be used.

The vampire exhaled, opened her palms, and released the wisps of night. They flowed from her until the darkness swallowed everything, even the glowing light of the clock. She didn’t have time to appreciate her dark magic’s effectiveness because she had places to be.

Pulling on her shadows, Brynleigh stepped into the Void. The black, empty place allowed vampires to move from one location to another. Uncertain of whether there were wards that would keep her from journeying far from the mansion, Brynleigh decided the easiest and safest course of action would be to return to the small infirmary.

Traveling to the moonlit woods was a matter of seconds. She stepped out of the Void and wrapped her darkness around her like a cloak. The arctic wind bit at her exposed flesh, but she ignored it to study the cabin.

A burly guard dressed in black gear, gloves, and boots was stationed out front. The curtains were pulled back, and the light of a single desk lamp sliced through the night.

Damn. Brynleigh hoped Doctor Carin would be asleep, but apparently, she was a night owl.

Still, the vampire had made it this far. Giving up on her plan was not an option. Brynleigh was far too aware that she may not have another chance. She surveyed the door. She would knock out the guard if she had to, but she’d rather not leave any trace of her presence.

A quarter of an hour passed before the light flickered off. Isvana must have been smiling down on Brynleigh, because moments later, the doctor stepped out of the cabin. Wrapped in a thick fur coat, Carin carried a stack of files.

Brynleigh smiled at the sudden stroke of luck.

“Done for the night, Doctor?” the guard asked.

“I am, Lucas.” She locked the cabin door. “Thank you. You didn’t have to stay. I would’ve been fine.”

Lucas shook his head and offered the doctor his arm. “I couldn’t leave you alone. There are reports of increased rebel activity all through the Republic. Besides, I’ve met your wife. No one wants to piss her off.”

“True, she’s fierce.” Carin chuckled and placed her hand on Luca’s extended limb. “Thank you for waiting.”

Brynleigh added more shadows around herself as the pair walked past, careful not to let her cloak slip. She waited until they had disappeared through the trees before running to the cabin door in a blur. She pressed her ear against the wall and listened intently.

When she was confident the cabin was empty, Brynleigh stepped into the Void again. The lock on the door might prevent most people from entering, but it wouldn’t stop her.

Brynleigh’s shadows dropped her into the middle of the cabin. She moved with stealth towards the desk and picked up the phone. She couldn’t waste any time—what if Lucas planned on returning?

Her fingers dialed Zanri’s number from memory.

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