Page 121 of Of Thieves and Shadows

He smiles then, my weakness only feeding his deranged desire for me. Then his empty eyes scan me from my feet up, his gaze lingering on each of my curves for so long, I feel it like a thousand spiders crawling over my skin.

“Damian,” Madame snaps. “You may be the only loyal child I have left, but don’t think I will not resume your punishment if you cannot control yourself.”

As usual, she pretends Mel doesn’t exist at all, but I don’t contradict her. Mel is safer being ignored by her.Sands, I wish she would forget that I exist, too.

He nods in apology, looking away from me. But the demented wanting doesn’t leave his expression.

In spite of her threat, she hands me over to him with an order to disarm me and bring me down to the brig. His fingers linger on my skin in a sick caress, one that threatens to steal the last bit of composure I possess.

He’s holding back, though, with Madame stalking behind us like a particularly lethal panther.

He won’t be, once he gets me alone.

I search in vain for an ember of the defiance that led me here, that part of me that told Einar to stand down. But it’s disappeared entirely, leaving nothing in its wake but the sinking realization that none of it mattered in the long run.

Because no matter how hard I tried, she found me and brought me back.

Just like I always knew she would.

CHAPTERSIXTY-FOUR

AIKA

Panic grips me before I open my eyes.

Not because I am shackled in the dank brig of a ship or still suffering from the effects ofhul gilor even at Damian’s mercy.

But because I hear my sister’s voice whispering my name, and I know she is stuck here, too.

“Aika.” She says it again, a warning this time.

My eyelids fly open just in time to see the towering form of Madame looming over me, just in time to feel the crack of her palm against my cheek.

Seven sodding Hells.

Pain lances through my jaw, my head cracking against the wall behind me with a solid thunk. It’s unusually crude for her. Uncontrolled.

A thousand thoughts run through my aching head all at once, from what happened at the palace to where Remy is now, then the odd realization that Madame used her left hand to strike me.

I allow myself to focus on that last thought, narrowing my eyes and honing in on the way she cradles her right arm to her chest. Small red lines bloom on her skin beneath her torn sleeve.

I blink hard, trying to determine if it’s the lingering effects of the drugs in my system, or if she’s actually injured.Have I ever seen her hurt before?

The clink of shackles locking pulls me from my thoughts. Damian’s fingers linger on Zaina’s wrists as he secures her to the wall of the brig. Between his touch and the lecherous way he stares at her, my stomach churns, my fingers grasping at weapons that I know have been taken from me.

Not that I could reach them from my shackles, anyway.

My sister doesn’t flinch, though. She never does.

Her expression is pure steel, her posture unbothered, though I know every part of her wants to cringe from his disgusting touch.

I avert my gaze before I can say something to him that will only make it worse for her, and my foggy attention settles on Madame, on the fury burning from her glowing purple eyes. Looking at her now, it’s a wonder we missed it before, whatever connection to the Mayima she has.

Natia’s face flashes through my sluggish mind then, and my pulse picks up speed. It was a long shot, dropping that coin for her in my drug-addled state. Either she didn’t see my half-arsed effort to catch her attention or, more likely, just didn’t want to interfere.

It’s not her way, after all.

She’s probably forgotten she even saw me by now—ifshe saw me.

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