Page 29 of Wicked Thieves
Anelize closed her hands into fists beneath the table. “I can’t be certain. I haven’t conjured in so long.”
“The curse acts differently for every Vedran. For me, I feel fatigued after healing. It can be quite debilitating. That is why it takes me so long to fully finish stitching back wounds. I fear Henry’s is all but gone, and that in and of itself has to be part of the curse, too. When I was your age, endurance was one of the first things I learned when I was growing into my gift.It is easy to develop and elongate over time by using it as much as you can. Practicing on someone would be a useful way to teach you how.”
Anelize let out a humorless laugh. “I highly doubt mine is worth using for extended periods of time, especially not on anyone. I certainly wouldn’t use it on you.” Nothing but death and pain awaited the person she subjected to her gift. It had only ever been used as a means to protect herself or put a stop to someone’s suffering. But only ever that.
The sound of a snort from somewhere in the room made her slowly turn to look toward the opened doorway. Then to the rest of the room until she spotted a long leg hung off the arm of the settee where someone was laying down, facing the fire.
“She thinks she’s going to stand a chance against half a dozen armed men in the tunnels but she’s too afraid to do so on one person. Saints, we’re all dead, and our bodies haven’t hit the ground yet,” Adan remarked from where he was laying.
She cursed herself for not having noticed him before.
Zara winced. “We all have our talents. I know how to call my power forth slowly—control is key when healing a wound. Though, what you need to exercise is endurance and control. Adan here is an excellent teacher when it comes to the former. He’s taught a good many of the children staying with us now. They have their gifts practically mastered thanks to him.”
There was no question in her words. Meaning, whether she liked it or not she was stuck with the man muttering under his breath who hadn’t deigned to look up from the back of the settee to spare her a glance.
Anelize said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile at Zara. “I’m sure I can practice on my own. No need to disturb him with such trivial matters.”
Another scoff. “Believe me. This is the last thing I want to do. I think cutting my arm off and having Zara sow it back together would be preferable than this.”
“Then why are you, if you find it so loathsome?” she snapped.
This time he sat up. His hair was still tied back, and he was wearing a cream tunic. Dark circles rimmed his eyes as he regarded her.
“Because, what the boss says goes, and I’m not about to lose my job because I would wish for nothing more than to find ourselves anevitwho actually knows what she’s doing. Seeing as there are none in the room with us, we’re stuck together.”
“How noble of you.”
“Aren’t I the sweetest?” he remarked.
“I think this will be just fine.” Zara preoccupied herself by digging into her porridge, sinking back into her chair as she stared out the window. “Use the stables, try not to frighten the horses while you’re there.”
“Right, let’s get this over with then.”
Anelize watched as Adan stalked for the door, hunched as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. Making no indication that he cared if she bothered to follow after him. And she thought Aeric was insufferable. How sorely mistaken she’d been.
“Adan has his moments.” Zara patted her hand, encouraging her to stand. “But he really is a good boy…with a few minor flaws.”
She arched a brow and asked dryly, “A few?”
Zara coughed to mask her chuckle. “A few. But what helacks in patience, he makes up for in endurance. Which is precisely why I asked him to teach you today. Do try not to take anything he says to heart.”
Anelize highly doubted she’d be able to take Zara’s advice, for the moment she stepped into the hall and found him leaning against the balcony, she regretted ever agreeing to any of this. Adan glowered at her before he pushed off the wooden railing. “Are you going to make me wait all day or are we going to get to wasting each other’s time?”
“Cut yourself.”
Adan’s blunt words hardly surprised her as they stood in the stables. Hay and buckets of water littered the floor, horses softly chuffed from within their stalls. He stood a few paces away from her as he retrieved a small knife from the sheath fastened along his belt before tossing it to her. She managed to catch it by the handle without hurting herself and gritted her teeth.
She angled the blade against her palm before his voice cut through the stables. “Stop.”
Confused, she furrowed her brows at him. “What?”
He huffed. “Do you intend on needing stitches every time you use your gift or is your intention to bleed out on the street so the Watchmen can track you down?”
“No—”
“Then why are you cutting into your palm? One single nick is enough, move the blade to one of your fingers. More bloodshed doesn’t equate power. That is already within you, you are just rousing it awake.” He spoke to her as though she were afool. In his mind, she probably was if she didn’t know how to make a simple incision to start conjuring.
She did as he ordered and cut a line down the pad of her finger. He didn’t reproach her this time so she must have done a decent enough job in this, at the very least.
