Page 13 of Bought By the Void Walker
My mind races. How does he know about Melara? Was that a slip, or deliberate? A manipulation, or truth?
Päivi pretends to organize books while obviously eavesdropping.
"You knew," I say.
"I know many things."
"About my sister."
"About many sisters. Many brothers. Many losses." She turns to face me fully. "Did you think you were the first to come here seeking revenge? The first to lose someone to the darkness between worlds?"
"He killed her."
"Someone did. The question is who."
Before I can demand answers, the temperature drops. Nezavek materializes between the shelves, more solid than this morning but still translucent at the edges.
"Leave us," he tells Päivi.
She disperses without argument, but I catch her final look, something almost like pity.
We're alone.
He moves closer. I don't retreat. This proximity lets me see through him partially, shadows within shadows, depths that continue forever, and at the center, something that might be a heart or might be a dying star.
"Mikaere spoke out of turn," he says.
"Did he lie?"
"No. But he told a truth you weren't ready to hear."
"I'm ready to hear everything about my sister's death."
His eyes, those burning gold suns, study me. A strange warmth spreads across my skin, a tangible manifestation of his curiosity. His hunger. Not for death but for something else.
"You're planning something," he says.
"Always."
"Show me."
"What?"
"Whatever scheme you've designed. Whatever weapon you think will work." He spreads his arms slightly, an invitation. "Try."
The challenge ignites something in me. Fine. If he wants to play, I'll play.
I move closer, letting my body language shift from defensive to predatory. My hips sway as I circle him, the movement deliberate, calculated.
I've done this before. Make them want you, make them vulnerable, then strike.
His form solidifies marginally as I approach. I trail my fingers through the air just outside his shadow-form, close enough he can feel the heat from my skin.
"You want to know what I'm planning?" My voice drops lower, the tone I used to distract targets before the kill. "Maybe I'm planning to get closer."
I stop directly in front of him, close enough that the cold radiating from him makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. I reach up slowly, my fingers almost touching his face. He doesn't move, but I feel his attention sharpen like a blade being drawn.
"Maybe I'm planning to find out what makes a shadow god solid," I whisper, pressing my body against his shadow-form. The cold burns through my dress, but I don't flinch. My hand slides down toward where his heart should be, seeking something vital, something I can use or damage.
