Page 81 of The Dead Saint

“But you do for me,” Sorcha said and dismounted, smoothing out her riding skirt. “I’ve come for the relic.”

A laugh erupted, and a shiver ran across her skin. Fog, hugging the ground but slowly rising, rolled toward them. There was no other choice than to go forward. Sorcha hesitated at the edge of the bog, studying the hillocks and narrow waterways—the murky pools of water. Half-dead trees grouped together here and there, deep green moss clinging to the trunks and hanging from the branches. What might have been a path wound through it, leading deeper in.

“I can smell you.” A voice came out of the fog, chasing chills up her spine. “Come and walk my muddy waters. Come to me.”

Sorcha took a step forward, the earth undulating beneath her—the air full of decaying vegetation. It was impossible to tell if it were night or day, the world shrouded in half-light and suggestion. The suggestion of shape and time of day, the suggestion of safety and danger. Nothing there was solid. Nothing could be trusted.

Adrian followed her, their arms brushing. He reached out and grazed her arm with the back of his hand. Such a subtle gesture, barely registered.

“No, temple girl. Your lover stays behind.”

She met Adrian’s gaze, giving him the barest hint of a nod. Revenant’s anger was a physical force beating fists against her back. He would have something to say about the word lover as soon as she was out of earshot. And from the look on Adrian’s face, he knew it too.

It struck her that this was the second creature to call Adrian her lover. Lacus had said it so casually, as did this one. Was it so obvious, then?

The voice laughed, the sound booming out, rolling over them and taking their breath.

“Yes. You are easy to read. Your emotions taste sweet. But I prefer the bitterness of the yellow-eyed one’s anger. His thoughts are delicious, like fire and ash.”

Sorcha couldn’t help it, and she turned to see Revenant’s face. He was furious. She could see it in the way he held himself, the expression in his eyes, even though his face remained flat and smooth.

“You are wasting time. My curiosity is fading.”

“No.” Sorcha swallowed. “I need to speak with you.”

“I’ll be here,” Adrian promised. “When you come out, I’ll be right here.”

* * *

Adrian had to send her in alone. It happened over and over, and each time, it became harder to bear, to watch her walk into danger, to face the threat alone. Revenant and Thompson watched him—hot focus and growing anger. Sorcha had changed it all, corrupted their leader, the monster, the man they followed into battle, the man who let the blood flow. He knew what they thought of him now. But he would not go back. He would not change it.

This woman had turned his world upside down. He watched her constantly, unable to pull his eyes away, wondering if redemption was possible. Prince Eine had promised to let him go. And if he did keep his word? Could she love a monster? Could the monster love her?

Come back to me, he thought. Come back to me and press your lips to mine. Come back to me and change my skin, change my bones. Melt into me and change my life.

With each day that passed, he wanted it more.

“Should we follow?” Revenant asked. “Will she come back with the relic?”

“We don’t need to follow,” Adrian said.

“You’ve made a mistake trusting her.”

Adrian tensed. “There’s no reason not to. She’s done what the prince asked.”

“And seduced you.” Revenant’s tone was flat, but Adrian knew him well enough to feel the accusation in it. “Do you think the prince will be happy that you’ve tampered with his witch?”

Adrian didn’t respond, waiting. He knew there was more. Ivo had been the tip of a blade. Now Revenant planned to twist it. Thompson looked down and then away, noisily rerolling the maps.

“What are you suggesting?”

“You want to regain control? Prove to the Tomeis and Prince Eine that you’re still capable of completing this task, and kill the woman now. We’ll take the pieces we have back to the Traveling City. The prince would not be displeased.”

“It would go against his wishes. He wants her alive.”

“What punishment could there be if the end result is the same?”

Adrian turned to him then. “You speak of treason.”

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