Page 26 of Chaos
“Is that so?” I murmured.
She nodded.
“So work with that. When it comes time to start building your barrier, use your army metaphor. Eventually your white knights will know when it’s time to patrol and when it's time to call in for reinforcements.”
“Wow, you’re really running with that metaphor, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “If it works for you, there’s nothing wrong with it. They could also be a bunch of builders, laying the bricks one by one. Eventually shielding will become as natural as breathing. You don’t have to think about it. You just do it.”
“Can we try?”
Shaking my head, I took a long breath. She wasn’t strong enough now for another test. Drained as I’d been from Hel’s ritual, technically I shouldn’t be either. But I felt great. Refreshed and strong in a way I hadn’t since before she’d summoned me.
Of course.
I’d just flexed my Pestilence muscle, much like Chaos and Sin had done. This was the first time I’d actually utilized my gift since we’d gotten free.
I could have slapped myself for being so stupid. How had I not thought of this?
Then I smirked, my mind already running away with plans to use this to my advantage. Huh. Maybe ShyGuy needed a little computer virus?
Malware, if you will.
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I think we’ve done enough for one day. We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Run along now, hellcat. I’ve got work to do.”
“Don’t you mean plagues to spread?” she teased, having absolutely no idea how right she was.
“Just the one.”
Chapter
Six
MERRI
Goosebumps pebbled my skin as cold winter air crept inside the drafty castle walls. Wait. Castle? A quick glance down at my body confirmed that I was, in fact, dressed as some sort of medieval lady-in-waiting. Or whatever I was supposed to be. I wasn’t well-versed enough in the timeframe to identify the details that might tell me where I fell in the castle’s pecking order.
The air smelled of woodsmoke and incense, a heavy sort of aroma obviously used to cover other, less appealing things. Glancing out the window, I took in the scene. A chilly, frost-coated morning greeted me, people milling about, dressed in garb I’d have been likely to see at a Renaissance Faire. Horse hooves clattered on stone, wagon wheels creaked, and the low murmur of conversations filtered around me.
Where the fuck was I?
A door creaked open to my left, and I spun in that direction. A startled laugh pulled from me at the sight of a very distracted Malice garbed in some sort of tunic and hose. I think maybe the jacket thing was called a doublet? And I had no word at all for the puffy short pants.
“What are you wearing?” I asked, unable to keep the giggles at bay.
His violet eyes locked on me, at first angry, then softening to something I’d never seen from him before.
“What areyouwearing?”
Oh, dear. Why was he speaking in French, and why could I understand him?
His brows furrowed as he assessed me. “Why aren’t you dressed for the lecture?”
Lecture? I felt like I was in some sort of play but hadn’t received my script. What was going on right now?
