Page 121 of A Steeping of Blood
Laith laughed. “Flick. She always was concerned that I didn’t name her.”
But Arthie didn’t want small talk. She didn’t want his laughter. She didn’t want to stand in this room any longer.
“Threatened me how?” she asked suddenly. Laith tilted his head in question. “You said you spoke because the Ram threatened me. How?”
“She was going to turn you into some other type of vampire. I forget the name.”
Arthie pinched her lips tight. “Ripper.”
Now that the Ram knew Rippers were a result of a mutation andnot a serum she had yet to hold in her hands, would she attempt to create them herself? Arthie wondered if that was even a concern she needed to have. The tribute was soon. The Ram had far more to contend with than navigating the difficulties of uncontrollable, insatiable Ripper vampires.
Arthie glanced at the door. She had no lockpick, no Calibore, and there was every likelihood a guard stood on the other side.
“Give me a chance, Arthie,” Laith whispered. “Let me prove my worth to you again. I’ll help you get Calibore back.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice a harsh whisper. She had betrayed him as he had her. Why washeso quick to trusther? She had nothing left to steal, and she supposed he didn’t either.
“And—and then we’ll be done. Even,” he said, not answering her question.
Just like when she’d saved his life and he’d saved hers. Just like when she’d betrayed him to the Athereum and left him for dead, and he’d done the same to her after she’d bared herself to him and feasted on his blood. Returning to the Athereum hall after she’d sent him away was the final tally that remained. It had resulted in Penn’s death. It had resulted in hers.
“Because you need help escaping?” she asked.
He croaked a laugh, panting as he struggled with something behind him. He rapped it on the back of the chair and gestured for Arthie to look. It was a key, and not a small one meant for shackles. “Do I? I took it from the guard who twisted my ear.”
There was the Laith Sayaad she knew.
Arthie uncuffed him, ignoring the deep lines the iron had carved into his wrists. His skin was pale. He struggled to his feet, and Arthie heard that wheeze in his breathing that hadn’t been there before, likely from the bullet she’d fired into his chest.
She felt sorry for him, though she couldn’t summon remorse. He had stared into her eyes, spoken of love, and pulled the trigger onhergun. And yet, she could not hate him either. He had been on the path that he was because of his sister. Arthie would have done the same for Jin ten times over.
So why was Laith helping her now?
Arthie didn’t know, but she would take every ally in this moment.
45JIN
When Jin opened his eyes to the dawn sun, he hadn’t the faintest clue where he was for a moment. He felt something warm and uneven beneath his head, and then a sound. He looked up—he was in Flick’s lap. The night before came rushing back. She was snoring softly, leaning against the headboard and startled awake when he stirred, blinking wearily.
“Hello,” she whispered shyly, and Jin remembered her fingers in his hair, coaxing away his sorrows, lulling him to sleep.
“Hello, Flick,” Jin replied, and she ducked her head when he said her name. A knock sounded on the door, and the two of them rose as the cot creaked, begging for them to stay.
If only. The tribute was tonight, and Jin had little time to waste.
Matteo was on the other side of the door. He glanced between them dubiously. “I take it you two rested well?”
“We did, actually,” Jin said, throwing Flick a wink. She sputtered at the insinuation.
Matteo sighed and turned straight for the corridor without another word.
“See, that’s how you deal with nosy people,” Jin whispered.
“But he’s going to think—I—Jin!” Flick stammered out.
Jin glanced at her sidelong. “Is that a terrible thing?”
She paused because she clearly hadn’t considered that. She wasstill troubled with the whispers high society would toss back and forth while having tea. But Flick didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
