A House of Cloaks & Daggers (The Gift War #1)

43. Nothing Between Us

Chapter forty-three

Nothing Between Us

F aerie screams were terrifying.

It was like listening to the cries of children locked in a burning building. Those beings were ancient and sometimes scary, but the sound of their pain was raw and brand new.

The two Vampyr girls crouched over their fallen sister, whimpering and sobbing, as members of the High King and Enyd’s Courts scrambled to move out of the way.

Despite my better judgement and instincts of self-preservation, I lifted my head to peek over the back of the couch as a figure stumbled into the room. The shield of light remained around me for a moment longer before Lucais, sensing no immediate danger, let it drop.

Because it was not caenim.

The man was dressed in dark grey uniform, the same colour as the strip of fabric across Enyd’s forehead, but his fair skin was streaked with black veins. Each one grew, protruding from his flesh, as he stumbled into the room with a hand braced against the side of his head.

Members of the High King’s Guard followed him, expressions of disgust and shock plastered onto their bone-white faces, boots sliding on the blood the man was leaking onto the floor.

Enyd’s sentry locked eyes with his High Lady and fell to his knees. The impact knocked his hand from where it was resting against the side of his neck, and his head fell to the side, his throat almost completely severed. Green-black blood poured out of him, running across the floor like an oil spill in the ocean as the weight of his decapitated head hanging on by the skin pulled the rest of his body down.

There was no smell of rotting death, though the colour and texture of the blood were similar to the caenim massacre in the bookstore and field.

Enyd cried out, the sound audible to the entire room as the gathered faeries fell into a stunned silence—save for the Vampyr girls weeping over the corpse of their friend.

The sentry hadn’t meant to kill anyone. He couldn’t use his hands, so he blasted the doors open with his wind magic. I glanced around the room to make sure that no one else had been hurt before I searched for Wren’s face.

He was already up and stalking across the room.

His steps prompted one of the Vampyrs to look up and I gasped at the blood-red tears streaming down her face. She opened her mouth in a snarl, exposing teeth sharper than any other race of faerie I had encountered thus far, and crouched down on her legs, ready to spring towards the High King’s Hand as he strode past her.

With a flick of his fingers and not so much as a glance in their direction, both of the Vampyr girls were bound in iron chains. The manacles hissed against their skin, curls of steam rising from where their hands and feet were bound, and both of the girls shouted in pain.

Wren paused beside them, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “These will remain until you calm down. Your nest will be generously compensated for the loss of your friend. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

They hissed and snarled at him, but neither one of them moved to break free from their chains.

Distractedly, my hand went to the place on my forearm with the scar left by the gold manacle from Wren’s trickery in the Forest of Eyes and Ears. The mark was so small that I’d almost completely forgotten it was there, but I traced its slightly raised edge beneath the sleeve of my shirt.

I wondered if he had one, too. I hadn’t even thought to look for it when he was shirtless in the armoury.

Wren continued walking until he was standing in front of the dead sentry. “Your man, I take it?” he asked Enyd.

The Court of Wind’s High Lady was standing on the dais, a hand clutching her stomach. “You know me,” she replied, making a visible effort to keep her voice light. It was the same voice that had spoken into my mind. “Can never be too careful.”

“In star formation around my wards?”

“Yes. Four dead.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So, where’s the other one?”

Enyd closed her eyes, falling into an almost trancelike state, and sighed. When she opened her eyes again, relief had swept away the clouds of pain. “Your bastard soldiers are holding him hostage downstairs.”

Wren gave her a heartbreakingly beautiful smile and winked. “Can never be too careful.” He turned to me, eyes narrowing. “You, go to your room. The door will lock from the inside.” He didn’t give me a chance to argue before he put his back to me, facing the rest of the assembled guests. “I apologise for the commotion. Unfortunately, it seems the House has a little pest problem. Please return to your rooms while we deal with it. Within the wards around the House, you’ll be safe.”

Enyd scoffed at the pointed look he gave her and gestured for members of her Court to disperse.

Batre made a beeline for me, dodging the body of the staked Vampyr, and took my hand in hers. “I’ll take you upstairs,” she whispered.

I caught sight of Morgoya watching her partner with a furrowed brow, but she turned away before I could grab her attention. Lucais was speaking quietly with a small assembly of his Guard in the far corner of the room as the guests shuffled towards the doorway, and for the first time all night, he felt my eyes on him.

He turned away from his conversation, lips parted around an unfinished word, and shook his head at me gently. I didn’t know what that meant.

While Batre escorted me from the room, our pace lagging as we filed out behind half of the other guests, I mulled over the predicament.

Lucais must have witnessed the tense moment I’d shared with Wren, but he had still shielded me with his light magic, so maybe he could forgive me.

Even though there was nothing to forgive except for the mortifying impression it had left upon his guests. Wren had sobered up quickly when the dead man burst into the room, but he’d been intoxicated when his mouth touched me, and I had simply reminded him that I couldn’t stand to look at him.

The encounter meant nothing.

There is nothing between us.

Even the hatred I felt towards him had dissipated, cooling down into mild indifference again. If Lucais had actually bothered to look at me before the very sudden end of the party, he would have seen that.

He would have seen it.

But he didn’t. Instead, both the High King and his Court had seen something else. Something that was misunderstood and reflected with horror in their eyes. And after everything we said and did this afternoon, when I’d asked him to stay consistent with me, and he swore he’d see me later…

“It will be okay,” Batre murmured, rubbing her free hand along my arm as she steered me towards the staircase. “He does this all the time. Some things might change, but other things will take some adjustments.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Oh, you know… The sex and the violence.” She patted my forearm. “Morgoya tried to warn him, but he’s stubborn.”

The pit in my stomach became permanent. My door opened for me as we neared my room, and Batre gave me a reassuring smile, but I was too far gone to attempt one myself.

Sex.

Lucais didn’t meet my eager gaze all night, though he knew that I was there. He must have known that I was there.

The Vampyr had been kneeling between them when I arrived.

What happened before I crossed the room?

Batre’s words echoed in my head as she mumbled something about calling her if I needed her right before the House promptly shut and locked the door between us.

Sex.

The dais was a display for the dancers touching and kissing and moving with one another in the centre of the room. What did they see before I crossed it?

It wasn’t hard to take a guess. He had been left hard as a rock after our activities earlier in the day, though that was his own choice. Tame was the display I’d witnessed of the Vampyr girls quite literally sucking the life out of Wren. Something else must have happened with the High King first.

Why else would Lucais have dodged me all night?

Violence, though…

It hit me too late.

I realised far too late that Lucais was planning to go beyond the wards and hunt down the caenim himself. Wren would likely join him, and I hadn’t told either of them that the army was being led by a Malum General.

I ran back to the door, almost smashing my nose into it as I fumbled for the lock on the handle and pulled.

It didn’t budge.

I yanked it again, twisting and turning it until my hands were so clammy they slipped right off.

“You let me out right now,” I demanded of the House, voice shaking.

The inside lock clicking back into place was my only answer.

It was locked from both sides.

Pain throbbed through my toes, shooting all the way to my ankle as I kicked at the door. It was useless. The blasted House had locked me in from both sides, keeping me prisoner for the very first time.

Enyd will tell them about the Malum General. She wanted me to do that, and she’ll find out soon enough that I hadn’t been able to, and then she’ll fill them in…

I staggered back from the door, breathing raggedly, and pinned my hateful stare on the ceiling. “If he dies, it’s on you,” I told the House.

The question that popped into my head was in my own voice, but I had an unnerving feeling that the House had put it there—even though that was impossible.

Which one?