Page 32 of Devil's Doom

For a few minutes, we focus on breathing as a heavy mood settles around the room. I check on Dar, worried the toll might be too much when he’s sick, but his temperature and breathing seem fine. He sleeps on.

I come back to Rada’s side, standing behind her while she faces the window. She takes my hand and presses it to her cheek, her eyes closed.

“I loved him from the moment I knew I was pregnant,” she says softly, her breath fogging up the window pane.

I inhale sharply, surprised. She’s never talked about her pregnancy or Dar’s conception with me, and I never pried.

“My sisters in the brothel said I couldn’t keep him. Our mama sat me down and explained that as her most expensive girl, I couldn’t afford to have a child like others. You see, some clients like pregnant girls, so it’s not unusual to let it happen. Only, I wasn’t allowed to. She said she’d pay to get rid of the pregnancy, but how could I agree? I already loved him.”

“Were they your actual sisters and mother?” I ask carefully.

“Oh, no.” She laughs softly. “It was just what we called each other. Like a family.”

I stroke her glossy, smooth hair. “So what did you do?”

“I lived on the streets.” She shrugs. “I mostly hid, only came out to look for food. Some of my sisters helped me in secret until mama found out and forbid it. She hated the fact I left since I was her most expensive girl. But I was actually happy despite having no home or friends anymore. I never liked working there. It’s not… I’m not made for sex.”

“How did you even get pregnant? Didn’t you get runes for that?” I ask, controlling my voice even though rage on Rada’s behalf stirs in my gut. If I ever meet that mama, I will curse her with boils and itching in some very uncomfortable places.

“Oh, I only wore the rune to work. One beautiful autumn day, I went out for a walk and… well, it happened. Dragons take what they want and don’t care about the consequences. I was too distraught to remember the rune after, and when I did, it was too late. But in the end, I’m glad, you know? Dar is only mine. I don’t have to share him with anyone else.”

“You do share him a bit, though.” I smile playfully, braiding her hair. “With me, with Lech, sometimes with Zlotomira. She has a soft spot for you both.”

“But that’s different. I chose you all. I trust you.”

We sit in comfortable silence, listening to the rhythmic sounds of rain beating against the roof. As soon as it gets dark, Lech comes back, frowning and wet with rainwater. Yet when he sees Rada, his face brightens for just a moment. He cups her face in his chilly hands and kisses her forehead.

“Bad news. Guards are doing raids tonight. There’s a good chance they will come in here, since every place with rooms to let is suspect.”

Rada swallows thickly, growing pale, and I clench my teeth with anger.

“What do they expect to find?” I ask.

“Rebels, of course,” the upir says, his eyes lighting up with the familiar sarcastic spark. “They will be easy to recognize, I’m sure. Bodies splattered with the blood of Perun’s soldiers, rebellion sigils tattooed on their foreheads, throats raw from screaming heretic chants.”

I smile weakly, and Lech sighs, wiping water from his face. “Don’t worry, girls. You’ll be safe.”

But I am not so sure and neither is Rada. She glances at Dar’s basket, her fingers nervously playing with the neckline of her dress. She isn’t afraid for herself but for him, I know. And I’m scared for them both. Lech, too, because he’s one smart comment away from being drawn and quartered. He claims to always keep his mouth shut when dragons are near, but I have yet to see him bite his tongue when he gets an idea for a sarcastic remark.

“Why do they raid homes if they won’t find anything?” I ask, huffing with frustration.

“Darling, the point isn’t to find rebels. It’s to make everyone else hate the rebellion, so if someone accidentally discovers the devil’s followers, they will report them to the guards.” Lech gives me a sardonic smile, taking off his wet boots. “Why do you think Perun punishes the whole city with a storm after an attack? It’s so everyone wishes the rebels would justfuckingstop.”

He falls silent, his movements jerky with anger. I remember what he said when he got drunk a few days ago—that the rebel attack was pointless. It nags at me. Woland doesn’tdopointless. He always tries to win.

“So it happens after every rebel attack?” I ask. “Perun punishes everyone?”

The upir huffs while Rada sits by his side and gently dries his hair with a towel.

“Not every one. This is especially bad, because seven of his dragons are dead.”

“So the attack wasn’t completely pointless,” I murmur.

Lech jerks, shooting me a sharp look. “Forget what I said that night. I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I’m just a simple man. I have no idea what those rebels are trying to do.”

I think he has some idea, though, and he’s definitelynota simple man. But Lech is in a foul mood, so I drop it. Maybe I can pry more information out of him when he’s fed and comfortable.

We usually speak freely in the rooms above the milk bar. Apparently, there are privacy charms woven into the walls that make it somewhat safe, though the upir still won’t tell us his secrets. While he has Rada’s full confidence, I still harbor some suspicions. Lech is too secretive to be fully trustworthy.

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