Page 41 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

“Some didn’t deserve to die,” Zev offers, his shoulders dropping a fraction. “But those who practiced the dark rituals, sacrificing innocent mortals to increase their power…they deserved to die.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But the Collector gets to play Aletha, like he has the right to pass judgment.” I shake my head. “I agree that some people deserve to die.” The Collector, his son, and his Treasure. They’re all on the top of my list. “But one bad being within a group shouldn’t damn them all.”

“Zev understands that,” Jagger says, hands slightly raised between us. “Don’t you?” he asks the question even though he clearly already knows the answer. He’s offering up Zev the chance to be honest and real with me.

Zev doesn’t take the bait.

He growls, takes hold of Rain, and leads him forward. “We need to move.”

“And I need a fucking minute.” I step the opposite direction. When Zev grabs my arm, I yank it free. “I’m not running,” I snap. “But if I stand here with you for one more second, I’m going to sink my fangs into you and drain you dry.”

Shock shapes his features, but his grip loosens. “You have ten minutes.”

“I’ll take twenty,” I snap back and stomp the other direction. I have no idea where I’m heading. Away from him is all that matters, especially when all I want to do is bite him. Hard enough to hurt.

I make it to the bottom of the closest of the six hills when a flash of warmth spirals over the inside of my forearm.

Relief and comfort immediately wash over me as I tuck into a group of trees, flipping my arm over to read the message.

Are you angry right now?

What an odd question. Six never opens with anything like that.

But Iamangry.

How did you know?I write back.

I don’t knowscrawls along my arm in delicate gold ink.I can feel it. I can feel you.

The world shifts beneath my feet.

How?I ask.I thought Matched sensing each other wasn’t supposed to happen until we complete the Matched bond.

Or is it because we’re close? He told me he was in Lingate, but what if he was traveling and didn’t tell me? What if he’s here? My heart races at the thought—terror and excitement crashing together in a conflicting storm.

I thought so too.He writes back.Maybe we’re special. Maybe Aletha isn’t happy we’ve taken so long.

I swallow hard, shifting to sit with my back against a thick tree trunk, this one not as rotten as the ones at the top of the hill. Still, the smell is almost unbearable, a sour scent that screams of fresh death.

Beyond that, why are you angry, my Matched?

I chew on my lip, ignoring his question for a moment.

Someone pissed me offI finally write back.

Tell me who, and I’ll make sure they never do it again.

I smile down at the gold handwriting on my skin, tracing the letters with my fingertip as I savor the threat, the territorial way he makes it. He doesn’t even know what I look like. We’ve made sure to never get too personal about that, and yet he’s so ready to defend me.

What if I’m the one who is in the wrong?

That’s not possiblehe answers.

My grin deepens, even as I shake my head.

You think I don’t know youhe continuesbut I do. I may not know your name or the color of your eyes, but I know your heart, your soul. You showed me your spirit, your fire, your strength in the first days we started writing each other. Youshowed me your kindness as you indulged my little inquiries about your life and you showed me wit when I tried to pry more details from you.

I swallow hard, my heart lifting at his words, at the way he’s been a constant support and comfort since he crashed into my life, despite never truly knowing each other.

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