Chapter 36
Well, that’s fucking bold.
Many things transpire in my mind as Tempest insinuates something so fucking dangerous—does she actually know? The need to pin her against a wall and stare into her eyes until I can only sense the truth nearly overtakes common sense.
Not in these tunnels, though.
Jane stares at Tempest like she’s a ghost of her past, honeyed eyes wide while Anya watches very carefully. Blood spatters the Zenith princess’s face, danger emitting from her aura.
Tempest’s mahogany eyes glide to look into mine as we continue to walk.
My mind races with a cascade of decisions that will need to be made in a very short span of time. If Tempest knows, that could change everything . How far will I have to take this? As much as I'd hate killing Tempest, I will, if I have to. If keeping Jane alive truly is my way to Serena, I’ll burn this whole city down to ensure it.
Plus, keeping Jane around for the mere sake of it feels important, too. Jane’s scraps of affection have set me on a path that I won't stop haunting until I get what I want; a desire I’m still navigating. I’m not sure what that means for my hunt for Serena, but perhaps I’ll merely take Jane with me as my healer.
Not if this shit disrupts our plans.
Tempest merely smiles and faces ahead. “We can speak in a moment,” she croons. “I’ll let you try and read me until then. I’m on your side, you know.”
I snort, still moving as if her words don’t bother me. Underneath that is my heart screaming that I fucking hate dealing with politics, and that’s all this damn place is.
I probably wouldn’t bother being with the Council if my instincts didn’t do most of the work.
Admittedly… Tempest feels the opposite of Blackwell. Seeing Jane brings her warm memories—and yet Jane stares at her like a stranger.
The sound of a crowd grows louder on the other end, pulling at my attention. The Savage Sands presents itself before us as even the overcast sun makes me squint after the bleakness of the tunnel. Banners fly over the stadium that’s carved into the stone. We pass by noirs, to which I tell one to bring towels and water to clean our faces with.
We all make our way up a few flights of stairs to enter the Zenith’s wing—a raised wooden seating area that we all congregate within, stretching around the crescent shaped fighting pits to give each one a sense of communal privacy.
“In the corner,” I say to Tempest, finding the furthest chair away from anyone, spotting that not even Blackwell is here. It’s just a handful of us, although the redhead named Alistair is present, who eyes Jane like he might be willing to swipe her from my hands.
He’s a newer Zenith, still learning that we all have our roles and that I’ve done something like this more than once to gain reliable information.
If Alistair tries to take her, I’ll gut him in the very sands below us.
I arrange the ornate, wooden chair so my back is slightly to him. I’ll feel him before he can reach me, and I don’t need him trying to read my expression. Jane’s chains are handed to me by Anya, I pull on them so she kneels. To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me. Anya takes a few steps back, and I look over my shoulder. “You and Bones keep the others away.”
Facing Tempest, I nod.
She squats down, resting her elbow on her knees and stares at Jane like she’s a fascinating oddity. It's almost hard to hear her through the crowd as she speaks quietly. "Ritter trusted me, you know."
Everything becomes loud in my mind, the energy around like clashing riptides as my magic nearly explodes from an adrenaline rush; hyperaware, ready to move and act in any direction. It’s one thing to hint at this, and another to confirm it so bluntly.
My hand tightens on the chains, trying to grasp onto Tempest’s aura, but all it can latch to is Jane’s desperation to be hidden; withdrawn, even from me .
That just pisses me off more.
Does Tempest not understand how much effort it took for me to unwind Jane? My unnatural gift latches so tightly to her that I don't even know how to get it off.
I swear I feel amnesty in Tempest's aura when I can focus, but again... she's as wicked as a hundred-foot wave, even if she can be as calm as a flat day at sea.
“What do you want, Tempest?" I grind out.
Is this why my instincts yelled at me to come here today? To meet her and learn this about her?
"I owe the Scorpion," she flatly replies. Trickles of deep, clashing emotions flood her calm. In my experience that only happens when someone is recalling the truth, especially a heavy one.
Lies taste too pretty, too organized, before it becomes utter chaos. Truths follow a line, even if it's jagged or smeared with complexity.
Tempest grins when silence is her only response, revealing three golden teeth. "Cheeky of you to take his daughter as a pet. Especially in chains."
"Why are you saying all of this?” Jane asks, her expression nearly terrified. At least it sells the show to anyone watching.
Tempest chuckles, and I glare so hard at her that the smile doesn't linger. She maintains her gaze on Jane. Familiarity. Protection. Intrigue. Tempest is stern about those feelings. "You get it from your mother." Jane's heart skips a beat, everything in her uncertain. "And you get that glare from your father. If he's truly hurting you," she nods to me, "I know how to hurt him in return."
I snort. She doesn't understand I'm not fucking dying anytime soon. "Now that your cryptic entrance is done, why are you telling us this?"
"Again, I owe him. Especially now that the Council knows of her tattoo. Although, it's working as intended. It's meant to send out red flags, signaling they found her."
My body stiffens, the surrounding sounds drowned out by shock. "What do you mean?"
"I remember when it was done. The tattoo." Jane's fingers tap fiercely on her thighs, the chaos inside of her like a needy, angry storm. Tempest adds, "How else do you think they snuck you in to get it? It was on my command after Ritter arranged it with me. It's why no one can remember who exactly did it. That took quite a bit of social puppeteering," she explains, twiddling her fingers as if strings are attached.
"And now?" I ask, trying to maintain patience.
Tempest languidly looks at me. "I'm just checking in on her. And letting you know that I'm watching."
Tempest stands, and I can't feel anything other than the truth, which for some reason makes me trust it less. "We will speak later."
"Good," she says, flashing Jane a smile before walking away, carrying with her an aura so thick that I wonder if she even knows her reality from the lies.
I look ahead, rubbing my chin, my blood so fucking hot it matches the temperature of Jane's scalding baths.
"What if the others learn?” she quietly asks.“That she’s involved?”
“I need to think.”
I stare at the back of her pretty head, her auburn hair as soft as the silk she wears. Tempest takes her place, the crowd cheering for her as I consider a hundred decisions at once. The sandy pits below are empty until two men enter, shouting their allegiance to Tempest as cheers roar in the air.
I don’t care at all for the fights anymore. All I do know is that when I consider returning to the Spiraling Stone, indignation claws at my chest like a warning of betrayal, as if the castle has raised bloody flags. I glance down, wondering what the fuck is going on in this world. First, it’s Jane being Ritter’s daughter. Then, Cypress and Tempest enter like they have the right to alter this world. And now, returning to the castle feels like swimming into the jaws of a shark.
Logic is juxtaposed with the force within that has guided me my entire life, hating when I don’t trust my magic. As I watch the two men fight and stain the sand with their blood, the answer finally comes to me.
"You told them your mother was a whore. It looks realistic to visit a whorehouse for a few days, perhaps a week or more. It’s what I would do if I were trying to regain your memory,” I say, breathing deeply, catching her unique scent with the floral perfume as the wind blows. “To answer your question, we’re not going to worry about the others learning. Instead, we’ll go to Rosmertta’s for now and get away from the Spiraling Stone. That’s all we can control.”
She looks to the side in interest, her gaze still on the floor. “Which of Rosmertta’s establishments?”
“To her primary residence in The River sector. Your friend is there.”
Her eyes brightened, Jane’s wave of trust washing over me, making my fists clench tighter. I fucking need the unmarred part of her heart that’s utterly wrapped in thorns, and I no longer bother to decipher why. I just do. I lean over, pulling on her chain so she has to listen to me.
"I have a proposition," I offer, figuring this might be our best way forward. For the both of us. For my curiosity. For her to relax for a damn hour.
“It’s not as if I can say no.”
I smirk, unable to restrain myself. She’s such an unique figure in Skull’s Row when so many don’t understand just who she is, and I want to be the first to claim her. I want to fuck her so hard she's haunted by me while her heart is wide open, just like her legs. I want to feel the rawness of her soul, in ways only I can. “Give me your unguarded self, for a single day."
She narrows her eyes, but I can feel the curiosity. "What does that have to do with anything?"
“Tempest reads true, for better or for worse. Which means we lie low until I speak with her again… until then, we both could use a little enjoyment.”
“That’s it,” she states, not believing me.
“This is purely for my desires, love. I like to live when danger is so close by. It’s the best time to do so.”
She wants to. I can feel so many things swirl inside of her, secrets locked deep. Hurt. Anger. This woman, if Ritter had maintained power, would have been the most desired daughter in all of Skull’s Row. What would this place do with the Scorpion’s daughter who is undeniably beautiful and as fierce as a mercenary?
I can feel her plucking away at the neglected part of me—one that I ignore because it's useless—and how it’s become fascinated by her. Craves her. The way she rolled over this morning to seek my affection, with absolutely no reservation, stirred something within me that won’t shut the fuck up now.
If this is all going to shit, then I’m not going to hesitate.
"Do it, Jane,” I softly command. “We both know there’s no point in fighting it. Might as well enjoy ourselves. You’ve said this yourself.”
She exhales, raising an impatient brow. "When does that day start?"
"From when we get to Rosmertta’s until tomorrow night."
Both brows raise. "That's more than a day. It’s only late morning right now."
"Not if a portion is spent with your friend. I’m a greedy man, so I’ll make sure not a moment’s wasted.”
I sense the forced protest, the one stemming from a necessary obligation to protect herself. The most bizarre aspect of this is that she doesn't have to protect herself from me. I don't fucking know why, but I'd let her stab me, many times, before I'd ever stab her in return. Even if I did, I'd never hit anything vital.
She can have her tantrums as long as she learns she’ll submit her ferocity to me in the end. I'm not a poet, or a philosopher, but I am a man. If this is how some form of infatuation works for me, then she's going to have to be patient, and understand she's not shaking me.
Not as long as I feel how much she wants me.
Being this close lets me feel her more, and I can even decipher that despite the words soothing her anxiety, she wants gentler professions. A foreign part of me wants to give them to her, and yet I’m also reserved, because I don't know what I'll do if she rejects me. Truly rejects me.
That might be dangerous for her.
She breathes heavily, her heart tired. So damn tired. I even reach to her face and she partially yanks back, but I clear the hair in her eyes, then drop my hand.
“What do you need from me to trust me?" I quietly ask. “You didn’t agree to my proposition.”
There's no hesitation. "If Kathleen wants to leave Bones... You. Let. Her. Leave.”
Fucking mutiny will erupt if I take the kitten away from Bones, but I also know what that oppressing love can do to a woman if she doesn't want it. I've seen it in my mother.
My mother's pain is the only reason I have any morals in this world.
"I’ll promise to do what I can.”
She's unconvinced, but curious, and even relieved to give in. Jane breathes out, "Okay."
“Okay, what?”
She heaves a sigh. “You get my undivided attention for the next day, once we’re at Rosmertta’s.”
The crowd roars as she says that, one of the fighters losing his head as the other stumbles, screaming over his victory.
I want to tell her more of what I know about her father, and yet it doesn’t feel right. Even admitting that felt too close to the edge, like Cypress is telling me it’s too soon—I eye the ruby earrings Jane wears, caution stilling my tongue. No doubt that would help earn her trust.
I lean back into my seat, allowing my mind to wander with the possibilities of everything now that I’ve temporarily soothed the rage inside of Jane.
Who fucking knows where all of this chaos will take us.
Thank the gods I thrive in this environment.