Page 22 of The Song Rising

I should never have gone to him. He was content to see me embarrassed in front of them, to undermine my orders in front of Terebell, who was supposed to be my equal in leadership, and to abandon me to handle the Mime Order alone while they left on Rephaite business.

“We leave in four nights’ time,” Terebell said.

She strode away. Errai opened the door for her, and the Ranthen filed into the hallway, leaving a chill in their wake. Mira Sarin gave me a fleeting look, one I couldn’t read, before she left.

Only Warden stayed. He shut the door, so the two of us were ensconced in shadows.

“Your nose is bleeding.”

“I know.”

I hadn’t known, but I could taste the blood now.

“Errai reported to us that you chose a new mime-lord for I-4, but that the ceremony was casual and your own attitude throughout was flippant and . . . improper.” He looked at me. “Would you disagree?”

I should have known that Errai would find something to criticize. “With all due respect, none of you know the first thing about syndicate politics. That’s why you needed a human associate.”

“How did you choose the replacement?”

“The usual way. The first candidate to declare themselves to the Unnatural Assembly is considered for the position. In this case, Jack Hickathrift declared himself to me, and I deemed him suitable.” I lifted my chin. “Look, the reason Errai called it ‘improper’ is because Jack made his entrance by flirting with me.”

Warden’s eyes darkened. “I trust your judgment. Errai did not.”

“If Terebell wanted me to cross-examine every candidate, she should have said.” I tried to sound calm, but my insides were boiling. “I know the syndicate. I know how it works.”

“That is not her only qualm. If she discovers that you have not expelled the Seals—”

A flare of resentment burned up my patience. “I’m getting really sick of pandering to Terebell’s obsession with Jaxon. I’m sorry if publicly betraying him wasn’t enough to show that I’ve rejected him. Or if risking my neck in the colony didn’t already prove my loyalty to the cause. Maybe I was the wrong human to choose.” I held out a glass. “Some wine, blood-consort?”

“Stop, Paige.”

“You never manage to tell Terebell tostop, do you?” It took effort to keep my voice down. Every word quaked. “You fucking coward. She belittles me, treats me as her waitron, and you do nothing. Not only that, but you make me look like a fool for all the Ranthen to see. At least I know where I stand now.”

Warden lowered his head, so we were at eye level. A quiver ran across my back.

“If I speak for you too loudly,” he said, his voice rumbling from the depths of his chest, “you will pay a price far higher than wounded pride. If you suppose that I enjoy upholding the façade, you are mistaken.”

His voice was no sharper than before, but there was a simmer in the softness.

“I wouldn’t know what you enjoy.” I stared him out. “I need you here. You know what we’re facing.”

“If I press the matter, she may not allow me to see you at all.”

“Don’t pretend you care, Arcturus. I know what you are.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What I am,” he said, an invitation in his tone. An invitation to explain.

The accusation was on the tip of my tongue. I was ready to parrot every word of Jaxon’s warning.

Lure. Bait.

“If all you’re going to do is tell me how much youcan’tdo, then go,” I said finally. “Deal with your Rephaite business. Go to the Netherworld and let me run this organization my own way.”

Warden watched me. I didn’t break his gaze, but my heartbeat was rough.

“I cannot tell what you think you know of me,” he said, “but remember this, Paige. The Sargas want you isolated. They want the Mime Order divided. They mean to sow the seeds of mistrust. Do not prove to them that human and Rephaite cannot join forces.”

“That was an order,” I said.

---