Page 24 of Glow of the Everflame

Someone was in my room.

I woke up to the shuffle of feet and the distant click of cabinets opening and closing.

I didn’t dare open my eyes.

Last night, with my final dregs of energy, I had stashed a handful of the blades Luther brought around the room—behind the door, near the bathtub, in the small drawer of the nightstand—before slipping between the silken bedsheets and falling asleep, clutching Brecke’s knife to my chest.

Now, however, my hands were empty. I must have lost my grip on the dagger, and I couldn’t risk losing the element of surprise by fumbling for it.

The footsteps grew louder. As quietly as I could, my fingers crept under my pillow and closed around the knife I’d stashed there.

And then I waited. Listened.

The whisper of fabric against fabric. The screech of wooden chair legs dragging against the stone floor. A long, drawn-out sigh. A slight weight leaning against the corner of the bed.

I pounced.

I threw the bedding to the side, unsheathing the blade and lunging forward in one seamless move, hurling myself into the air toward—

A shriek rang out, followed by a flash of light so dazzling I was momentarily blind.

I yelped and stumbled back across the mattress, my back cracking against the wooden headboard.

“Ohshit—I mean—Blessed Kindred, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to use my magic. Are you alright?” A female voice, frantic and subtly familiar.

I blinked through the spots dancing in my vision. A woman stood beside the bed, holding a pile of clothing and looking horrified.

“How did you get in?” I barked.

“Luther let me in. He said you might need some clean clothes.” She looked pointedly down at my naked body, now on full display after my towel had dislodged in my sleep.

Seriously,howdid I keep ending up undressed in front of these people?

“We met last night,” she said with a tentative smile. “I’m Eleanor. One of the many distant Corbois cousins.”

That’s right—Eleanor, the cheerful woman whose bright energy had stood out among the severe faces.

I dropped the knife and sank to my knees, clutching the bedsheet to my chest and blushing bright red. “Yes, I remember you. Hello again.”

“Sorry I scared you.”

“Sorry I tried to stab you.”

“No problem,” she said with a shrug. She tossed the clothing she was carrying onto the bed and eyed the sack of blades I’d left beside me, the contents of which were now scattered across the sheets. “Do you always sleep with a pile of knives?”

“Luther brought them by last night. I think he believes one of you is going to try to kill me.”

Eleanor snorted. “That’s ironic.”

“Why?”

“I mean, if anyone was going to try...” She caught herself and blanched. “Not that he would ever... I don’t mean...”

“You mean if anyone had a motive to kill me, it would be Luther?” She nodded sheepishly, and I laughed. “That’s what I tried to tellhim.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved some knives to the side before plopping down beside me. “Good luck trying to tell him anything.”

I liked this woman already.

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