Page 13 of The Spark that Ignites
It was an understatement. She knew she looked like a damn mess but was the sorrow painted on her face so obvious? Emmery turned away from his fleeting look of sympathy and rubbed a hand across her aching scars. “I don’t want your pity.”
“Do they hurt?” At her puzzled expression, he nodded at her chest.
Ah, her scars. Emmery sighed. “For as long as I can remember.”
“That’s good and bad.” He speared a hand through his grey hair. “The good thing is your full powers are waiting. The throbbing means the gods have deemed you’re ready and are beckoning you. There’s a rite of passage that follows. A trial.”
She wrung her fingers together. “And the bad?”
“There’s a price for everything. Nothing is given for free. Nothing is entirely fair. The trial can be gruelling. Some have died but it’s different for everyone. Tailored to whatever the gods please. Magic isn’t awarded to the weak and never given without return.”
Her stomach clenched as she studied her hands. A deadly trial where people have died ... the sparks were more an annoyance than anything. “But my magic is ... weak.”
“Not weak.” He offered a sympathetic smile. “Incomplete.”
Incomplete. The word sang through her in a soothing melody.
So, she wasn’t completely useless after all.
The urge to experience what her magic could do rose like a dangerous tide. What would real power feel like? Would she be able to control it? What if her magic brought a sense of ... belonging? A force greater than herself to believe in like her mother had preached.
Flexing her fingers, she grabbed her dagger once more. “So, if nothing is free, what do the gods ask in return? What’s the cost?”
Vesper waved his hand in dismissal and drawled, “Only part of your eternal soul.”
Anxiety simmering in her gut, Emmery gaped at him, but he grinned.
“I told you,” he said, his voice low. “Nothing is free. Nothing is fair.”
She gnawed on her lip as the air shifted, pulling taut between them. And in that space were unspoken intentions and scribbled words on that scrap of parchment still tucked in her cloak pocket. Emmery could practically see those words written across his face as Vesper cautiously stared back. Because he could feel it too—the turn in conversation.
“Now is when you make good on your promise and tell me how to get across the gate,” she snapped.
“I don’t remember making any promises, Sparky. I said Icanget you across. Not that I would. Besides, did you think I would simply hand over the information?”
Her stomach plummeted as she stood and pointed her dagger at his throat, not knowing what to do with it. She couldn’t kill him and ruin her only chance of getting across the gate. Regardless, her knuckles whitened around the handle. “Tell me what you want,” she demanded.
Barely seeming to register the blade, a wolfish smile spread across Vesper’s face. “I would like to make a bargain.”
Chapter Five
Bargain. The word snaked through her. Nothing good could come of this. Emmery’s mother had warned her ofKenna’s ability to manipulate these deals to their advantage and, now that she was face to face with one, she had no doubt. It was one of the only things she knew of their kind.
What sort of heinous shit would he ask for? A sexual favour? Or gods forbid, multiple? She swallowed the acid rising in her throat and looked him over, from the tips of his grey hair, his fingers drumming impatiently on his arm, to his leather trousers and clunky booted feet crossed at the ankle resting beside hers under the table. Was he the kind of man to ask for such a thing? No, it had to be something substantial from his efforts. He could’ve swindled any woman. Besides, he had his opportunity in that alley.
But whatever it was, judging from how easily he took that guard’s life, it was bound to be dangerous or immoral. Maybe both. What if he wanted servitude? Emmery had heard of humans happily exchanging their freedom for a magical favour, but she would never belong to anyone. Not again. A wave of nausea crashed over her and the dagger shook in her hand.
“You can put that down. We both know you won’t use it,” Vesper teased, his grin putting hyenas to shame. “It’s a contract or deal. Sealed in blood, of course.”
“Don’t patronize me. I know what it is.” Emmery kept the blade at his throat. “I’m just not stupid enough to make one with your kind.”
He waggled a finger. “Ourkind.”
“I’m not one of you,” she sneered. “I’m not deceitful and wicked. And I don’t lead people on by giving them false hope.” This was nonsense. Why even offer to take her across the gate if he didn’t mean it? If he was going to exploit her.
Emmery stabbed her dagger into the table, the wood splintering beneath her anger.
Vesper’s eyes flared wide, and he retracted his hand as he stared at the blade, likely picturing it sinking into his flesh.
