Page 105 of A House of Cloaks & Daggers

Get down!

I ducked against the couch as the double doors behind me burst open, and shards of wood splintered across the room.

Light flared around me, white-gold and glowing ferociously, enveloping me in a bubble like a shield.

Lucais.

The shards of wood and pieces of metal missed me entirely, but one of them speared straight into the heart of the first Vampyr girl, and it was Wren’s blood that poured out of her as she collapsed on the ground.

Chapter forty-three

Nothing Between Us

Faerie screams were terrifying.

It was like listening to the cries of children locked in a burning building. Those beings were ancient and sometimes scary, but the sound of their pain was raw and brand new.

The two Vampyr girls crouched over their fallen sister, whimpering and sobbing, as members of the High King and Enyd’s Courts scrambled to move out of the way.

Despite my better judgement and instincts of self-preservation, I lifted my head to peek over the back of the couch as a figure stumbled into the room. The shield of light remained around me for a moment longer before Lucais, sensing no immediate danger, let it drop.

Because it was not caenim.

The man was dressed in dark grey uniform, the same colour as the strip of fabric across Enyd’s forehead, but his fair skin was streaked with black veins. Each one grew, protrudingfrom his flesh, as he stumbled into the room with a hand braced against the side of his head.

Members of the High King’s Guard followed him, expressions of disgust and shock plastered onto their bone-white faces, boots sliding on the blood the man was leaking onto the floor.

Enyd’s sentry locked eyes with his High Lady and fell to his knees. The impact knocked his hand from where it was resting against the side of his neck, and his head fell to the side, his throat almost completely severed. Green-black blood poured out of him, running across the floor like an oil spill in the ocean as the weight of his decapitated head hanging on by the skin pulled the rest of his body down.

There was no smell of rotting death, though the colour and texture of the blood were similar to the caenim massacre in the bookstore and field.

Enyd cried out, the sound audible to the entire room as the gathered faeries fell into a stunned silence—save for the Vampyr girls weeping over the corpse of their friend.

The sentry hadn’t meant to kill anyone. He couldn’t use his hands, so he blasted the doors open with his wind magic. I glanced around the room to make sure that no one else had been hurt before I searched for Wren’s face.

He was already up and stalking across the room.

His steps prompted one of the Vampyrs to look up and I gasped at the blood-red tears streaming down her face. She opened her mouth in a snarl, exposing teeth sharper than any other race of faerie I had encountered thus far, and crouched down on her legs, ready to spring towards the High King’s Hand as he strode past her.

With a flick of his fingers and not so much as a glance in their direction, both of the Vampyr girls were bound in iron chains. The manacles hissed against their skin, curls of steamrising from where their hands and feet were bound, and both of the girls shouted in pain.

Wren paused beside them, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “These will remain until you calm down. Your nest will be generously compensated for the loss of your friend. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

They hissed and snarled at him, but neither one of them moved to break free from their chains.

Distractedly, my hand went to the place on my forearm with the scar left by the gold manacle from Wren’s trickery in the Forest of Eyes and Ears. The mark was so small that I’d almost completely forgotten it was there, but I traced its slightly raised edge beneath the sleeve of my shirt.

I wondered if he had one, too. I hadn’t even thought to look for it when he was shirtless in the armoury.

Wren continued walking until he was standing in front of the dead sentry. “Your man, I take it?” he asked Enyd.

The Court of Wind’s High Lady was standing on the dais, a hand clutching her stomach. “You know me,” she replied, making a visible effort to keep her voice light. It was the same voice that had spoken into my mind. “Can never be too careful.”

“In star formation around my wards?”

“Yes. Four dead.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So, where’s the other one?”

---