Page 19 of Unraveled
While a bit of liquid courage wouldn’t be bad, I’m not about to drink a stranger’s alcohol. Especially when these strangers are my enemies. I’ve sort of accepted this might be my last night in this world, but I will not die on their terms.
No. I’ll be the most insufferable person they’ve ever met. I push the glass away. Our fingers graze, and a spark rushes up my arm.
Ash pulls his hand from me and glares, as if that was my doing. “What are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Clearly, you’re human,” he says, gesturing at my body with detached interest, “but somehow you cast multiple fire spells and a shyene.”
Am I supposed to know what he’s talking about? “Shyene?”
“The spell you used back on that rooftop when you tried to kill me.” He takes an exasperated breath, like I’m the most annoying thing he’s ever met.
Mission accomplished.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” I say past gritted teeth, and direct my attention back to Finley as he pours a new potion over my arm. “I was trying to stop you from taking down the veil and killing hundreds of innocent people.”
The potion fizzes over the cut, first tickling and then dulling the rest of the pain. Finley pauses, and he tilts his head backto meet Ash’s gaze. They share a silent conversation, and I’m woman enough to admit I’m dying to know what this is all about.
“Those in Penumbra are hardly innocent,” Ash says, and takes a sip of the drink I refused.
An ember of guilt kindles in my chest as I remember the corpse the scientist dragged out of the machine. I shake it away. We have to do whatever we can in order to protect the ones we love. The children who are innocents, and the hardworking families who make our city beautiful.
Humans know the difference between right and wrong. Many have families, friends, and futures. The raging beasts that attacked me in the forest don’t. They kill without mercy, like the one who disemboweled my father and left his body behind.
I refuse to feel guilty.
“I really need to know what you are, Monster,” Ash says.
“Why would I tell you anything?” Heat bursts in my stomach at him calling me that damn name. I curl my lips back from my teeth and snarl. “You tried to destroy my home and haven’t told me a single thing about where I am or what’s happening.”
“If I answer one of your questions, will you tell me what you are?”
A rush of adrenaline surges through me as I nod. I’m going to get an answer, and I have to ask him the right question...
“I brought you to my home in the Kingdom of Aphelion,” Ash says, not waiting for me to speak.
“Wait, I didn’t get to ask my question!”
“But you did. You asked me where I brought you, and I answered.” His stupid side smile is back as he crosses his arms over his chest, swirling the drink in the glass he offered me before in lazy circles. Gods, I hate it.
“I asked before we agreed on anything. You know I would’ve asked a different question.” I glare at him and then at Finley, who quietly wraps my arm with clean bandages.
This was a trick all along. A play on words to get what he wanted by giving me very little. But it’s something. If we flew to Aphelion, it would have taken most of the night. The Orenda Forest lies between Penumbra and here. My breathing slows, and I feel myself sink into the sofa. It will take me weeks to get back home on foot.
My hopes dwindle faster than the fire in the fireplace. Aphelion... the Kingdom of the Fae. Or it was before all of them disappeared. I thought nothing remained of this place, but this room definitely feels like something. These aren’t ruins, but a warm home with dark wallpaper and beautiful marble floors.
I blink rapidly and look at the beast, then at the floor, and back to his beautiful-yet-deadly face. Otherworldly. Is he fae? Even wearing a fancy coat, he can’t hide his clawed feet or his massive stature. A body unlike anything depicted in the books I studied.
No, not fae.
Is he the reason the fae are gone, then? A demon, perhaps? Did he kill them and take their home—and kingdom—as a trophy?
“I’m waiting for your answer, Little Monster,” he says. And his cocky grin widens, showing two sharp canines that turn my breath to ash in my throat.
Two can play his game. I was raised with a younger sibling; I know well how to play with words. “I’m a librarian,” I say, matching his smile.
“A librarian?” His face falls, and he glances back at Finley, who shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath I can’t decipher. “That’s simply not enough. It’s not the answer I seek.”
