Page 76 of In Death's Hands
“Hello, sunshine!” Atys’ too-happy voice makes my scowl deepen, which in turn makes him giggle like a schoolgirl.
He’s standing at the bottom of the stairs, one arm outstretched, and I want to swat at him for the grin sketched on his too-perfect, too-healthy face. I pause my infernal descent for a moment while I take him in. It’s the second time I’ve seen him in full attire. He’s wearing a dark green three-piece suit that fits him like a glove and makes his eyes pop. In so little time, I’ve got used to his crazy or downright non-existent clothing. But waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs stands an elegant, confident man. An incredibly striking one.
When I meet his eyes, they glow with a devious spark that tells me he knows exactly where my mind went. I roll my eyes and resume my way down the steps. It’s nice to see him so alive after the horrors of last night. His face hadn’t been as open then, as relaxed. It’s a nice change for sure, but also one that makes me spiteful.
“Why the hell aren’t you hung-over? You drank twice as much as I did.”
“Ah. You can thank the Origins’ special metabolism for that.” He has the nerve to wink at me.Wink.I want to hurt him with the force of a thousand suns. Or with the force of a hundred hung-over, coffee-deprived people. Should be about the same.
When I finally step onto the floor, I exhale a relieved sigh, which only makes him laugh harder. I’m about to make good on my unvoiced threat when a coffee cup appears in his hand. My hand halts in the air, changing course in an instant and grabbing that cup like it’s the last good thing in the world. Putting both hands on the warm porcelain, I inhale the liquid and groan. “Cappuccino. A good one at that!” When I’m halfway through, I pull my head up to find a bewildered expression on his face. “What? We don’t all have the goody magic metabolism.”
“Oh, honey.” His eyes roam all over my body. “Youdohave the goody metabolism. Trust me.”
I laugh despite myself, my mouth curling slightly. “How did you make it appear, anyway?”
He waves a hand in the air as he says, “Magic.”
“Of course,” I mutter. “Must be nice.”
“Sometimes,” he answers more seriously. “Not always.” I’m too lost in the last dregs of my coffee to press him on what he means.
When I see that the cup is empty, I frown at it. I haven’t really had time to consider their powers and whether I am jealous of them. But him making coffee appear like that suddenly makes my throat tighten with envy. Too fast for my brain to catch up, I’m clutching at the air, my heart racing and expecting shattered bits of porcelain to fall at my feet and break my skin. But nothing of the sort happens, as he’s the one who made the cup disappear. “Damn you,” I hiss at his barely restrained laugh.
“Hush, or I won’t get you another one.”
Sullenly, I stay quiet. If there’s one way to control my mouth, he’s sure as hell found it.
Atys grabs my hand and wraps it around his arm before walking me through the hallway leading out to the garden. Next to him, I realise how our outfits match, and if Nathan’s shadow hadn’t brought the dress to me, I would have suspected Atys planned it that way.
I squint at the bright sun greeting us as we step outside. “Have you seen Turan?”
“She’s out there, playing politics.” He waves at the garden slowly coming into focus through the too-bright light. The scene is similar, yet not, to last night. There are people milling around in various stages of undress. Some already seem to be drinking andfeelingtheir way through one another. But in the centre, where Atys is leading me, is a group of well-dressed, solemn-looking people. Origins. All of them. I can feel it in the way my breath quickens. In how my skin tightens suddenly. I feel many eyes on me, but only two of them pull my focus. I follow the tingles on my face to the edge of this strange gathering.
Nathan is as far away from the group as he can be while still being a part of it. His shoulders are tight and tension courses through his hands, which keep opening and closing at his sides.His jaw tightens when he zeroes in on my hand on Atys’ arm, and his frown deepens as his eyes bounce between Atys’ suit and my dress.
I rip my gaze from him—totally ignoring the way his black suit hugs every best part of him—and step closer to Atys, my shoulder brushing his. His snort makes me turn to him, and the smirk I find on his face makes me scowl. I mutter something about stupid Origin men under my breath, but judging by his deep laugh, he catches every word.
“What has he done to earn such a sour face?”
I skewer him with my eyes. “None of your business,” I snap, generating another bout of chuckles, but it’s the gasps I hear around us that grab my attention.
Most of the gathering is dispersed into smaller groups, each Origin lost in conversations that do not reach me. However, the ones closer to us are gaping at me, some even talking to each other behind their hands while their eyes devour every inch of me.
My spine straightens under the weight of their stares. My own eyes refuse to lower, but I’m at a loss for how to respond. I know they are infinitely more powerful than I could ever be, but I will not let them gossip about me without saying something. I’m pondering how wise it would be to hiss at them when a voice I know too well drawls behind me, “Don’t worry, I never use his title either. If you start now it’ll go to his head.”
I close my eyes for a second before turning to Nathan, who, thankfully, is too focused on glaring at the people at my back to notice the shiver that ran down my spine the moment I felt him close.
“Excuse you!” exclaims Atys as my eyes collide with Nathan’s. “You may not use yours, but mine rolls off the tongue quite nicely.”
The surprise is enough to free me from the dark pool of Nathan’s gaze. “Title?” I ask, looking back and forth between them.
“Yes, dearest,” says Atys. “We all fall into specific categories under our Crowns. The highest tiers come with fancy titles.”
“That serve no one and nothing, except to fluff up their egos further,” grumbles Nathan at my side.
A funny look crosses Atys’ face at Nathan’s comment, but it’s gone too fast for me to decipher it. Nathan turns to me. “Please. Stay here today.”
“I already said no.”
