Page 10 of Creatures that Breathe

Emotions streak across his face, too complex, too fast for me to decipher. “Leni?” he whispers.

The arms caging me droop, elbows going slack, but his fingers dig into the post, the canvas.

Ture darkness sinks into the shop, thick and heavy, and for a good minute, I’m able to hold back from saying anything. But I can’t help it, can’t hang in this space, unsure whose turn it is, who has the power. “It’s hot in here,” I say at last.

Everything breaks.

His arms drop, his boots trip backwards, his head shakes in denial. “It’s not.” He’s backing up from me.

Isn’t it? My face is on fire, sweat sticks between my fingers. “Has the wind stopped?”

“It hasn’t.” He stares at me out from beneath soft brown lashes, tense. Blinking slowly.

“Really? I can barely hear it.” I take a step forward and he stumbles back, hits the edge of the table and rears further.

The last light explodes, throwing sharp glass at the ground. Heat scrapes me again. I can’t hear a thing save for my thundering heartbeats and his low, thick voice. “Who are you?”

Is he scared?

Of me?

The flaw in my plan. The everything’s-perfect-really-but has imploded. One hiccup and now it’s a wrench, dislodging gears and making smoke, spelling catastrophe.

Disappointment seeps into my bones. “None of it’s true, is it?” I ask, stepping out of my corner. “The Blackguard. It’s not real. There’s no curse, you’re not killers.” I gesture to the market, the proof of unharmed mortals. “You threaten and wear leather and have stupid matching tattoos, but they might as well be friendship bracelets, am I right?”

I step towards him and he jerks back. The tent yaws.

Cross inhales sharply through the nose, impulsively searching for openings in the fabric at his back. “What do you want from me?”

He’s trying to run.

I don’t immediately speak this time, but I do step closer, fascinated as he retreats further, pushes his large body into the wall.

Nothing.

I want absolutely nothing from him.

Before? When I thought he was violent, when I believed the stories, I had wanted. Craved.

For him to ruin me. To fuck me and wreck me, unravel me completely, and leave me in a puddle on the pavement when he was finished. To free me from Draven’s claim in the most archaic, depraved manner.

But if he’s fearful of me, then he won’t survive an hour in Draven’s war path. And I want to be rid of my fiancé, but I won’t kill to do it. I won’t stoop to his level.

“Nothing,” I mutter, touching my knuckles to my cheek to cool it. “Nothing at all.”

I need to get out of here. I need to run. This plan, it’s failed, I have to scrap it. I glance up to warn him.

He’s gone. Slipped through my fingers like smoke, like he was never here, like he never threatened me or feared me.

And for the first time since landing in this sun forsaken place, I feel bad. Guilty for how reckless, how stupid, how ridiculously assured I was about his ability.

I promised not to hurt anyone, but now I’ve sent Cross to his death.

3

Cross

Raekoja plats City Centre Tallinn, Estonia

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