Page 62 of Barely Breathing

Astrid removes her scarf and drapes it over her chair’s arm with deliberate precision. The unhurried movements show confidence but also contemplation like she’s buying time to gather her thoughts.

“You’ve been watching over her since she was a child.” Astrid’s gaze drifts to the battle scene carved on the mantle, and she sighs. “I am not here to fight you. You’ve been a family friend for a long time. We have not forgotten that.”

I stand and move so they are forced to look up at me. My hands shake, and my voice is rough as I say, “Stop treating me like a mere mortal. I tamed a dragon and stopped the apocalypse. I survived the labyrinth. I have proven myself capable of handling far more than any of you ever expected.”

“This is different,” Costin answers. “You are not ready for this war.”

“I’m already in it,” I snap.

“None of us are ready for this war,” he continues, ignoring my anger.

“War?” Astrid’s eyebrow arches at Costin. She smooths invisible wrinkles from her slacks.

There are few things more annoying than being pissed off and having the targets of your irritation staring at you like they’re calm and rational. I want to scream in their faces and shake them into listening.

“I’ve been trying to stop it,” Costin answers. “The fewer people looking, the better my chance of discovering what’s happening. I wasn’t sure who I could trust.”

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I cry, waving my hands like a lunatic. The amulet heats. Draakmar is all for unleashing my anger. “I’m right here. Tell me!”

Costin’s hands grip the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white as if he might rip them from the seat. Firelight makes his skin look almost translucent as veins rise along his temples and snake down his cheeks.

“I need to protect you,” he whispers, looking up at me. I see desperation dancing with rage. “It was the only way.”

“The Freemonts threatened her?” Astrid clarifies.

Costin hesitates before slowly nodding once.

“Whatever happened at the shipping yard is clearly about more than the Freemonts,” she concludes. “It’s much bigger. Who else do you suspect is involved?”

Costin doesn’t move as he stares at me. I see he’s torn and trying to control himself. Then,blinking slowly, he looks at the floor next to my feet.

“Elizabeth has been plotting against me for as long as I can remember, since before we were turned. She’s rash and has no power with the vampire council. They’ve condemned her methods. I worry what they would do if they discovered the lines she’s willing to cross.” His expression darkens with something that looks like guilt. “Even if she managed to kill me, they would never let her have my throne.” His eyes dart to me, and then Astrid with a wry smile. “She’s a woman, after all, and they are ancient men.”

Fucking misogyny. I don’t have the energy to rant against the supernatural patriarchy right now. But it’s freaking annoying.

“It seems she’s found another way to unseat not only me but the council of elders. The Freemonts provided her with the resources and connections. The werewolves were her means.” His chair scrapes against the floor, the sound harsh in the library’s quiet as he stands. He turns his back to me and tilts his head to stare at the ceiling. “None of them expected Tamara to be at the shipping yards in the middle of the night.”

“I worked the night shift,” I say. “My parents thought it would be safer with less supernatural traffic inthe offices.”

I see the ghost of a smile threaten his mouth, but he doesn’t look happy. “So you told me.”

I don’t remember telling him that.

“If you had remembered what you saw...” He presses his lips together and finally returns his gaze to mine.

“Your sister would have killed her,” Astrid finishes. She doesn’t sound surprised.

“Not just Elizabeth.” His eyes flash crimson. I’m beginning to recognize the subtle changes in his moods. Before, I thought his monstrous characteristics were simply to incite fear, but they’re just micro expressions revealing so much more when one knows how to read them. “The Freemonts, the wolves, their allies. I made her forget to keep her alive.”

“I don’t need protection.” I quiet my tone and move toward him. Pleading, I add, “I need truth, Costin. I need to trust you.”

I see real emotion crack through his careful control. He reaches for me but stops short of touching my face. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect you.”

I ignore the fact Astrid is watching us. “You say you want me to choose you, but how can I when you won’t let me make my own choices? When you hide parts of my life from me?”

His expression softens slightly. He touches my face. “Tamara…”

“Tell me,” I whisper, mimicking his touch. I stroke his cool cheek. “Let me fight beside you.”

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