Chapter 17 Kiss of Night
KISS OF NIGHT
Distinguish between desire and desperation: The former honors the true self, the latter flees from it. One is power, and the other is fear.
Claudia has been reading for—she checks her timepiece—six hours straight. Her eyes are dry, her body stiff. Exhaustion pulls her to bed, but behind her eyes, her mind races.
She has to beat Cassius.
She has to earn the valedictorian’s blessing.
She has to speak to her mother one last time.
At the same time, she has to learn the stars. She has to free Dorian. She has to fulfill the bargain that brought her here.
Pressure builds in her head. She rubs her temples. There is too much to do and not nearly enough time to do it.
But if she’s brave enough, she knows where more time waits.
It’s been nearly a month since the last time she tried to enter the Realm of Nightmares. Maybe this time will be different. Better. Or, at least, maybe now she’s strong enough to withstand the cost.
With a deep breath, she focuses on conjuring the Doorway in her mind.
It starts with smell—mint and ice and ash.
Then, she imagines a rush of crisp wind tangling in her hair.
Then, the hollow, reverberant sound of the night endlessly echoing itself.
The sound of pure nothingness. The Doorway forms from the top—a Gothic peak slowly growing toward the ground, like drips of black paint taking shape upon a blank canvas.
Haloed by green and white light, the Doorway opens for her.
Claudia walks through, her shoulders pulled back, her spine taut.
She braces herself for imminent horrors, but this time, there is no scream. No blood. No fear at all.
This time, the realm welcomes her home.
She did it. She can hardly believe it.
A rush of pride keeps her warm while she walks forward through the snow and trees, admiring the beauty of this realm for the first time.
The stars glisten so purely. The moon is a smile.
The branches bend to greet her. She wonders if this is how Dorian feels here, if he’s managed to feel at home in the dark.
When she comes to a fork in the path, she stops.
“Dorian,” she calls out.
Her voice echoes three times, and the world is silent again. The wind stops, the branches freeze, the snow pauses midair. Above her, the sky contracts. Stills. Then, it ruptures. Dorian falls like a star, landing right in front of her.
“Look who’s back,” he says with a grin.
“Finally. This is my fourth try.”
“Are you here to hide? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing like that,” she assures. “I’m all right. More than all right. I’ve been studying celestial magic with Lamour. I’ve even crafted my first celestial spell for the grimoire.”
His smile is so wide it’s nearly crazed. “Brilliant. You’ll set me free in no time.”
She nods. “Have you had any luck finding Odette’s killer?”
“None yet, but I am searching every night.” He tilts his head. “Is that what you came to ask?”
“No, I came here for something else. I need help preparing for my first debate.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m paired against the nastiest scholar imaginable. He’s rude, arrogant, and what’s worse, he’s never lost in his life. I want to change that. I want to destroy him. Humiliate him.”
“I see. And you want my help.”
“There must be something more you could teach me. An advantage of some kind.”
He tilts his head and smirks. “Is that fair to your opponent?”
“More than fair,” she defends. “It’s just. He’s a whole semester ahead of me. An advantage from you would merely even the playing field.”
“What would you have me do, Starling?”
“What could you do?”
The wind howls while he paces. “I could find him in his sleep and scare him into resignation. I could disturb his nights so that he is weak and restless before he challenges you.”
She smiles just thinking about it, but that’s not the kind of help she’s after. “As tempting as that sounds… no. I want to beat him at his best. I only want to be better. Can you help me with that?”
“My gifts are not so honorable.”
She sighs. “I’m not sure I’m honorable, either, after everything I’ve done. My opponent might be a snarky bastard, but he’s a saint compared to me.”
Idly, Dorian reaches for her hair and twirls a curl around his claw.
“I believe the key to winning a debate has nothing to do with the argument and everything to do with the arguer. If all you see are his strengths, you will be too afraid to fight. You need to humanize him. See his weaknesses. His flaws. His fears.”
She huffs. “He has none.”
“Everyone has fear, Starling. Everyone.”
“Even you?”
“Of course I do.” His hand drifts down her arm, tangling in her fingers. “My fear is bone-deep.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I can show you. And in turn, I can show you how to find what your opponent fears the most.”
Her heart thrums. “Teach me. Please.”
He eyes her lips and leans down. When his gaze flickers up to hers, he murmurs, “Stay very still for me, Starling.” Before Claudia can speak, Dorian presses his mouth to hers, and something deep inside her ignites.
It’s as though he’s filling the void inside her that he created when he took a bite of her soul.
For the first time since their bargain, she feels whole.
It’s not a kiss—it’s an exchange of power.
But that doesn’t stop her from reaching up to caress his face, or moaning into his mouth.
He catches her wrist. “I told you to stay still.”
“Your power makes me wolfish,” she says, keeping her lips crushed against his. “I can’t help it.”
He growls and uses his power to bind her wrists behind her back. “Then I will make you.”
She fights against it, but every movement makes the bindings tighter. He has her trapped beneath his lips, and once she finally stills, a vision plays across her mind.
From a bird’s-eye view, she sees Dorian, wounded, on his knees in the snowy forest. Black blood spills from a wound on his chest. She sees an ethereal version of herself standing before him, smiling, watching him bleed.
Someone else enters the scene—a dark-haired man with his back to her.
He takes Claudia’s hand and kisses it. Together, they walk away, leaving Dorian to die alone.
The vision ceases when Dorian pulls back. The bindings fall from her wrists. Her lips are cold as ice. Something feels sticky in her mouth and heavy on her tongue.
Power. More than she’s ever had, and still not enough to satiate her want.
“What was that?”
“My greatest fear. Dying here, watching you walk away with someone else.”
“Dorian…” She reaches up to touch his face, seeing the red wounds wrapped around her wrist from the bindings. “That will never happen. I would never let you die here. Every day, I grow closer to freeing you.”
“I know, Starling.” He places his hand over hers. “I know.”
Looking into his eyes, she bites her bottom lip. She knows that wasn’t a kiss, but part of her wishes it was.
Part of her wants to do it again.
She lets out a breath and refocuses. “Are you sure this will work in the waking world?”
“Yes. Breathe your nightmare into your opponent. Let it chew through his consciousness in search of fear, then let him go once you’ve seen enough.”
This fits perfectly into her existing plan—she was already going to use luxos against Cassius. Now she’ll just take it a bit further and seal it with a kiss.
“This is perfect. I’m going to bring Cassius MacLeod to his knees.”
Dorian stiffens. “MacLeod?”
“Yes,” she says as though it’s a question.
“Stay away from him,” he says, gripping her tightly by the waist.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“The MacLeods are wicked. You cannot trust him.”
“How do you know?”
“I knew his ancestor during my years at Cygnus. He was vile. His very soul was rotten, and that rot plagues their entire family line. For all we know, he could be the killer you’re running from.”
“But he and Odette were friends. He’s been trying to avenge her.”
“Is he, really? Or is it all an act? Think about it: The MacLeods have been attending Cygnus since its inception. They were there when Sidarphion fell. They were there when the killings started. Murder could be their legacy.”
Her mind races, throat tightens. What could make the MacLeods so murderous?
“Promise me you will not get close to him,” he says, stopping her thoughts.
“But what about the debate?”
“Leave it alone, Starling.”
Wind sweeps between them. Claudia shivers. “I can’t do that. If I don’t win, I’ll never be valedictorian, and I won’t get the blessing.”
“You don’t need a blessing,” he says, his tone mocking. “You only need to uphold your bargain with me. I will give you all that I have once I am free.”
“You can’t offer what I want.” Her eyes turn watery. “I’m trying to see my mother again. Only a god could grant that.”
He grimaces. “Trust me. No blessing is worth the risk of getting close to a MacLeod. Let it go.”
She shakes her head, but his grip tightens so much on her waist that it squeezes the air from her lungs. A whimper escapes her lips.
“Promise me,” he growls.
She blinks hard, trying to hide the fear in her eyes. “I promise.”
“Good. Now go. I have nothing more for you.”
Her heart is pounding when she wakes.
Cassius MacLeod could be a killer. How did she not see this before?
But she can’t stay away from him, no matter what she promised Dorian. She has to win, consequences be damned. If he is a killer, surely he wouldn’t kill her before the debate. He’s too eager to humiliate her publicly. He wouldn’t deny himself the chance.
And if he tries to hurt her, she’ll run back to Dorian and let him handle it. He can kill Cassius with one sleep. Either way, Claudia wins.
Cassius has no idea who he’s dealing with.
He might be a killer, but so is she.
She stands and opens the curtains in her room. It’s still dark outside. Her timepiece says it’s three in the morning. She has hours until she’s expected in class, so she sets up her desk to read until it’s time to leave.
From her nightstand, she grabs a lit candle. When she crosses the room, the flame pulses in her mirror, and she catches a glimpse of herself.
Her stomach bottoms out.
She’s covered in blood. Dripping, soaking, shaking.
It’s everywhere—in her eyes, her ears, her mouth.
She takes a breath to scream, but the blood floods her lungs.
Her knees give out and she falls to the floor, clawing at her throat, begging for air.
Bishop slithers from his spot on the bed and rushes toward her.
When she picks him up, the feeling of hot blood disappears.
She looks back at her reflection, and she’s clean.
Her face is stained with nothing but snot and tears.
And when she stands, there’s another diary entry waiting for her on the bed.
October 31st
I know now why Cassius cannot best me in class.
He cannot talk to Malevimus.
He cannot talk to the gods at all.
He told me tonight. There is some ancient curse on his family’s line. No one knows but me.
- Why are you telling me? I asked him.
- Because I trust you the most. We’re alike, you know. Ambitious to a fault. Hungry to prove ourselves. Desperate for something good.
- I think you’re just telling me so I’ll take pity on you if we ever get paired for debate.
He laughed.
- I don’t want your pity. But I do want your help.
- With?
- I want to see if you can talk to the gods for me.
- We’re first-years, Cas. We’re not supposed to talk to the gods without a professor present.
- Don’t pretend you haven’t prayed.
I declined to speak. He smirked.
- That’s what I thought.
- What do you want me to ask them?
- Honestly, I don’t care. Anything. I just want to see if they’ll speak to me through someone else.
- What makes you think they’ll answer to me?
- Because you’re a godsdamn nightmare, and I mean that as the highest of compliments. If anyone can bend a god to their will—if anyone can force a god to answer—it is you.
I beamed at him. I’d never felt so seen. That’s something I have always appreciated about Cassius. He sees my ambition for what it is: violence. And he respects it.
He has it, too.
- All right. Let’s go to the chapel.
Cassius guarded the door while I lit the red candle. I did everything right. Every fucking thing. I crawled on my knees and called to Malevimus. He answered so fast that his booming voice made me jump.
- You are in danger, Odette Dufort.
- Tell me something I do not already know.
- You do not yet know what hunts you.
- Can you tell me?
He did not respond.
- Do you have a message for Cassius MacLeod?
Again, no response.
- Malevimus?
Nothing.
The candle snuffed itself out.
When I came out, I hardly had the heart to tell Cassius. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I just shook my head, staring at my shoes.
- Thank you for trying, he said.
- I’m sorry, Cas. Is there anything else I can do?
He sighed, then scoffed.
- Find Sidarphion. Then tell him to answer to me.