Page 162 of House of Lilith

She’s no idea what’s going on, but I should be really careful.

Yeah, right, I think as images flash through my mind — of those Fiains screaming as the balls were exploring in their faces, of Ricky all bloodied in that dungeon, of the terrified look in Nikolay’s eyes after the last Game, of the fox…

Which, of course, makes the words all come back.

“You’rea lot,and you’re like thatall the fucking time.”

They always take my breath away, threatening to drag me to some even darker place.

And that’s exactly why I don’t let them live inside my head.

Gritting my teeth, I decide to shrug it off and focus on the only thing Icando right now.

Practice Blood Magic with her.

I stand up. “Vasilisa,” I call out.

And she jumps out of the painting, as usual landing without making a sound and throwing me a little smirk. “Any news?” she asks as she gets into position, coming to stand right opposite me.

“No,” I say as I take the knife out of my holster, soften my knees, swing my torso a little to the side and get my hand into the position to throw.

“Pity,” she replies. Folding her arms, she looks at my knife and orders, lazily yet in a tone that downright compels, making me picture her in a battle with countless soldiers charging at her command, “Left eye.”

I fling the knife straight through her left eye and use my Blood Magic to get it back.

“Right knee.”

I hit her right knee.

“Heart.”

I stab her straight through the heart.

She nods and says, “Good, now the marbles.”

I get the crystallized blood marbles out of my bag and I lay them on the floor in front of me.

Standing straighter, but looking down at them, I take a deep breath and I close my eyes, trying to make my nose fix on the scent and my mind make the connection.

And I can feel it when I manage to make one of them lift off the ground and up into the air, and, as usual, it gives me this thrill I can’t quite describe. Like, all my life I’ve been traveling down one and the same stream and now I’m in a completely different one, the sensation at the same time familiar and strange.

But then, then it births this sudden aggressiveness that always makes my eyebrows pull down and my control start slipping away.

And if I had it my way, I’d take a lot more time with it, but I can already hear the insanely easily bored old witch huffing and puffing.

“Fine, I’m ready,” I snap, feeling my cheeks burn in anger.

“Forehead,” she orders.

And I fling my eyes open and I focus them on her forehead, but the marble just goes through her chest and falls on the floor, making a strangely musical sound while rolling away.

I grit my teeth, feeling all the suppressed emotions starting to surface.

Vasilisa just rolls her eyes at me. “You know what ‘forehead’ means, girl?”

For a second, I just throw daggers at her. It makes me want to snap her fucking neck. Without thinking, I grab my lunchbox off the floor and I fling it at her, letting out a frustrated groan as it whizzes right through her, comes crashing into the wall behind her and spills its guts, that is, my food, all over the floor.

Panting, I turn my eyes back to Vasilisa, expecting to see an angry face.

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