Page 45 of Veiled Yearning

At first, it looks like nothing’s happening. Just Chiara staring at this prisoner, her gaze slightly narrowed, lips pressed into a pale line. It shouldn’t be surprising; I’ve watched her imbue dozens of items, but after all the build-up, I guess I was expecting something more dramatic.

Just as soon as I have that thought, something changes. There’s this feeling in the air, like ozone hanging heavy before a thunderstorm. The hair on my arms raises, and a tiny frisson of electricity moves past me.

Chiara’s features are strained, and tiny lines of pain bracket her mouth.

The Custodian gasps, his expression shifting from suspicious to fearful. “You!” His eyes are wide and scared as they jump to Chiara. “You’re the one. Like Nicolas. You’re going to kill me!”

She jolts at his words but doesn’t break her gaze. Her teeth dig into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

A moment later, the stone in her hand starts to glow a pale blue.

The Custodian backs away from Chiara, but he can only go as far as the back of his cell. Slamming into the steel with a clang, he whimpers, “Don’t kill me. Please.”

A tear slips down Chiara’s cheek.

On an exhale, she closes her eyes.

The air settles.

The stone stops glowing, fading back to a dull gray.

Chiara turns away from the cell and focuses her gaze on a small trash can nearby. A heartbeat later, a gust of wind hits the can and sends it flying across the room, hitting the wall with an echoing clatter. She thrusts the stone at Frederick, and whispers, “Try it.”

Frederick’s expression is pained, but hopeful. He hates Chiara going through this almost as much as me, but he’s also desperately hoping it worked.

His fingers curve around the smooth edges of the stone, and he sucks in a quick breath.

Less than a second later, the trash can flies across the room again. Larkin lets out a relieved sigh. “It worked.”

“What about me?” The Custodian lunges forward, grabbing the bars of his cell, his tone high and frantic. “You stole my ability. I’m going to die!”

Frederick levels a pointed look at him. “You don’t sound dead to me.”

“My ability! You stole it!”

Chiara turns back to the man, her face streaked with tears. But she says quietly, “Maybe not. Try it. But just a little.”

His mouth drops open in shock, and his gaze bounces from Chiara to Nylah. “But the books.”

Nylah glances at Larkin, then nods at the Custodian. “I won’t. As long as you just try it with the trash can, like they did.”

He hesitates, frowning in indecision. I can tell he’s debating whether to use it on one of us instead. But the books win, and after a short pause, the trash can ricochets off the wall again.

“Shit,” he breathes. “Oh, shit. I didn’t lose it.”

Chiara is a statue, frozen beside me.

Larkin moves in front of her, so she has to look at him. Voice pitched low and soothing, he says, “It worked, Chiara. And you didn’t take his ability. You didn’t hurt him. It all worked just the way we hoped.”

She gives him a jerky nod, then shifts her gaze to me. Chin wobbling, eyes glassy with tears, she asks, “Gavril? Can we go? Please?”

“Of course.” No regard to my fellow Sentinels and what they might be thinking, I wrap my arm around Chiara’s shoulder, tucking her into my side. To Larkin, I add, “I’m taking her upstairs while you finish down here. But hurry. I want to get back home as quickly as possible.”

Larkin lifts his chin at me in agreement. “Yes. We’ll be up shortly. And Chiara… thank you.”

She’s trembling against me, but manages to croak out, “I had to.”

And that’s all I can take of this. My Chiara crying, forcing herself to do something she hates, terrified she’ll hurt or kill someone—

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