Page 75 of Lux

“Let go of me!” She swings at him. Then shouts. “Help me! Help! This sick fucker is after me!”

The Pol-spawn blinks as a man in black leather shouts and approaches. He must be a boney, and there seems to be no love lost between them and Altaris’s spawn.

He loosens his grip. The woman flees.

“Minchae, wait!” Niamh takes off and I follow. It should be easy, but she is fast. How the fuck is she so fast?

I run harder. Faster. She manages to stay just beyond my grasp until she suddenly stops.

“Something is wrong,” I hear her say. “Look.”

The mundane is slowing. She trips, sinking to her knees and doesn’t get up again. Approaching her now is child’s play. Still, she frees something from her pocket and waves it.

“Stay the hell away from me! Stay! …Niamh?”

She looks at my fae, her eyes clouded with pain. Feverish. A damp sweat cloaks her forehead, gluing down the black strands.

“Stay back,” I warn Niamh.

She doesn’t listen. She crouches low before the woman and extends her hand. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” The woman scoffs. “You were dead! I watched it! I watched him kill you and…” She breaks off, her shoulders heaving beneath wracking sobs. “It bit me and I’m dying. I can’t find a healer. I’m dying. Dying.”

Niamh murmurs something, but I move past her and snatch the woman by the sleeve of her coat. I wrench it up.

I see the proof of something I sensed from the second I saw her. The stench of sickness. The pallor of death.

“She’s been bitten,” I say, eyeing the vicious wound marring the flesh of her wrist. “By a lunaria.”

CHAPTER 26

Niamh

It isn’t fair. There are so many things I want. Things I need. Requirements I want to demand from others. Things I deserve.

But patience is an overarching lesson, more persistent than even the honesty I was taught to maintain while in the Citadel. I am constantly reminded of it, no matter where I am or what I need. When entering the mortal realm. When trusting Caspian. When it comes to finding the truth of my mother.

I must wait and wait and linger. I must stand aside patiently and bite my tongue.

But no more. I am so very tired of waiting.

No more!

I want to scream and storm and rant. I want to be like Caspian and enforce my will upon the world, no matter what it asks of me.

I see him now, leaning against the wall of our space. Our once quiet space, now invaded by many bodies and clashing voices.They struggle to save Minchae who has been bitten by a creature I have never seen in person. Yet another forbidden being from my old life. A lunaria.

A creature who can phase by moonlight into any beast which takes their fancy. Their bite is harmless—unless they prime their fangs with poison. Unless they aim to kill.

Unless they hunt mundane with the hopes of tracking them later.

All of this is explained by Altaris who is speaking to Colleen. With her blonde hair in a coiled bun and a pink sweater with the sleeves rolled up, she leans over Minchae who lays spread over the floor. Her face is a mask of concentration, her hands outstretched, fingers splayed. She is so intent on utilizing her magic, she barely seems to notice anything else.

Unlike me, she is useful. Her odd traits are her advantage. Her magic is powerful, and adept at healing. But in this instance, she struggles. Sweat drips down her brow and she mutters to herself under her breath.

While Altaris watches, his normally closed expression becomes readable the first time. He is worried. So very worried, but not for Minchae, or me, or even Caspian. His concern is for Colleen. There is a protectiveness in how he speaks to her, coaxing her onward.

“That is it, my darling,” he says. “Pace yourself. If you die, your father will never forgive me, and we both know what a raging drunk he can be.”

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