Chapter 23 All the Questions #2
“What does a gorilla have to do with war?” I blinked, confused.
The room erupted into laughter. Even Casimir, who usually held his emotions close, chuckled softly. Brumous let out a little yip from where he sat at my feet, his tail thumping against the floor, as if he, too, were trying to figure out why they were amused.
“Not gorilla,” Zane said, still grinning. “Guerilla.”
“The term guerilla warfare,” Casimir began, voice slipping into instructor mode, “refers to unconventional—”
“Means fighting dirty.” Koa cut in, shooting his brother a quelling look. “Using terrain, surprise, whatever’s at hand. Zane has a gift for it.”
“Like the time he garroted a vampire with piano wire,” Casimir muttered, and I pressed closer to his steady heartbeat, equal parts fascinated and horrified. “Zane’s creative. He can turn almost anything into a weapon. Once, he killed an enemy with a stapler.”
“A stapler?” My eyes widened.
“Desperate times, starlight, desperate measures.” Zane shrugged, his smirk widening.
“What about you two?” I shook my head, my mind boggling at the idea. “What are you best at?”
“Cas is the best sniper, but his real talent is strategy.” Koa traced the edge of a throwing star that suddenly appeared in his hand. “I handle close encounters.”
“Translation, if it bleeds, stab it,” Zane stage-whispered. “If it doesn’t bleed?” He mimed double dagger strikes. “Stab it some more.”
I giggled just a little. It was strange, hearing them talk so casually about things that felt so far removed from the quiet life I’d known, yet there was something comforting about their confidence, their ease with each other. And in their absolute proficiency with all things deadly.
It made me feel just that much safer.
“Let’s continue the tour,” Koa suggested. “I think you’ll like the library, beloved.”
He took me from Casimir, who could have sat me down on any of the chairs or stools in the room, but had held me the entire time.
Like he was savoring every second of it, I mused and hoped my wistful thought was true.
#
Koa carried me through oak doors that smelled of lemon polish and old books, and right away, I knew this was going to be one of my favorite rooms at Evermere.
Tall, arched windows let in streams of golden light, illuminating shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling.
The scent of old paper and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of leather and ink.
Books of every size and color lined the walls, their spines gleaming with gold and silver lettering.
Illuminated manuscripts rested in glass cases, their pages adorned with intricate designs.
Scrolls of maps were carefully rolled and stored in wooden tubes, and modern bestsellers were neatly stacked on a table near the fireplace.
“It’s everything,” I breathed.
“There’s certainly a little bit of everything. Literary classics, modern novels, nonfiction, lots of history, grimoires, magical modern theory.” Koa lowered me onto a tufted window seat, fingers lingering at my waist as he watched me take it all in.
“Could I… Would it be all right to borrow some?”
“You are the queen here, remember?” Casimir straightened a stack of journals. “Plunder away.”
“Just don’t dog-ear the illuminated manuscripts,” Zane collapsed into an armchair, long legs draping over the armrest as he watched Brumous nose the leather-wrapped books.
“Thank you,” I murmured with damp eyes. “I’ve never had access to anything like this. I can’t wait to find books on lunar magic.”
“I’ll help you find whatever you need.” Koa knelt to pull a volume. “Start with Celestine’s treatises.” He held the book up to me. “Her work on lunar harmonics aligns with your—”
“Magical puberty?” Zane suggested with a snort.
“Gifts,” Koa growled, shooting his brother a warning glare.
I hugged the text to my chest, ink and aged paper filling my lungs. Here, between these pages, I might finally find answers to all the questions I had about my own magic.
#
Zane scooped me up next, his arms steady as we left the library. His smirk was as casual as ever, but there was a gentleness in the way he carried me, like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held.
“Next stop, the torture chamber where we make pretty boys cry.”
The gym was filled with weights, machines, and mats. I wrinkled my nose slightly, unsure what to make of it all.
“I don’t think I’d be much good at any of this,” I admitted, glancing at the rows of equipment.
“It’s not for everyone,” Koa chuckled. “But you can learn if you ever want to.”
Zane shifted me higher against his chest as Brumous sniffed a machine.
“Hey! No peeing on that, fuzzer!”
Brumous cocked his head to the side with a hurt look in his blue eyes, as if he were offended by the very idea, and I covered my mouth to muffle my chuckle.
We moved through the halls to the home theater. The room was dimly lit, with plush reclining seats and a wall-sized screen that made my eyes widen.
“Could we…” I hesitated, then reminded myself they wanted me to ask for things. “Watch something together sometime?”
“Name the night.” Koa grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Pride and Prejudice?”
“Careful,” Zane snickered. “Princess might think we’re civilized.”
Finally, we ended up in a room that felt like a third living room, but the centerpiece was a magnificent grand piano on a dais, its polished wood gleaming under the soft light from the chandeliers. The couches and chairs circled it like an audience waiting for a performance.
“It’s a pity that such a beautiful instrument doesn’t have anyone to play it,” I murmured as Zane set me down on one of the couches, Brumous following and flopping on my feet.
Koa’s elbow connected with Zane’s ribs, followed by a hissed, “Ow!”
“Stop prevaricating, Z.” Casimir crossed his arms, his long braid sliding over his broad shoulder. “Play.”
Zane’s smirk faltered. For a heartbeat, the boy who wore sarcasm like armor stood exposed, fingers flexing, throat working. Then he straddled the bench with exaggerated swagger.
“Prepare for tinnitus, sweetheart.”
The first chords struck my spine like silver rain. Notes cascaded, sweet and sorrowful, as his hands danced across the keys.
When the last vibration faded, I realized I’d leaned forward enough to nearly slide off the couch only because Casimir’s arm looped around my waist and pulled me back against the cushions.
“Why didn’t you sing?” I whispered, because anything louder seemed wrong after that concert-worthy performance.
“Already perfect.” Zane spun on the bench, mischief restored. “Adding my voice would’ve been gilding the lily.”
A faint pink tinged his ears, though, and something fluttered in my chest. I glanced at Koa and Casimir, half expecting them to poke at him, but they were oddly silent. Why weren’t they teasing him like he most definitely would them?
“That was incredible,” I said, my voice trembling with wonder. “More than incredible. I don’t have the words.”
“Glad you liked it.” One side of Zane’s mouth tugged up, but there was something softer in his eyes now.
“He cried during his first formal recital.” Koa dragged two wingback chairs in front of my couch, their carved lion’s feet sliding soundlessly over the marble, and sat in the left one. “Seven years old and sobbing through ‘Für Elise’.”
“Lies,” Zane scoffed, dropping onto the couch beside me. “Although I did vomit on our etiquette tutor after she forced me to bow five times.”
Casimir claimed the right chair, unblinking as he stared at me.
“What?” I asked, a tiny ripple of unease pulling my eyebrows together.
“You agreed to wed a stranger from the vampire court. Why?”
“Blunt as a hammer strike,” Koa sighed.
“Subtlety called.” Zane hurled a throw pillow at Casimir’s head. “It’s filing a restraining order.”
“I didn’t really have a choice, Simmy.” I twisted my fingers in the hem of my sweater as heat crept up my neck.
They told me why they’d agreed to an arranged marriage with a stranger, I reminded myself. It’s only fair that I do the same.
“Yeah, because ‘no’ wasn’t in Arabesque’s vocabulary, right?” Zane leaned back and threw his arm across the back of the couch just above my shoulders. “Bet she handed you that contract like it was a grocery list.”
“It must’ve taken a lot of courage to agree to something like that,” Koa murmured. “I can’t imagine how scared you were on the way here.”
My bottom lip quivered.
Scared didn’t even begin to cover it. The memory of that journey, the dread curling in my stomach like a snake.
“I didn’t know what to expect,” I admitted. “I just kept telling myself I’d survive somehow. No matter what.”
“So, what exactly happened when you got here?” Zane’s smirk was still there, but his eyes were sharp. “How’d you end up looking like you went ten rounds with a Kodiak?”
I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat like glue. A heavy, invisible hand clamped down on my tongue, but I told them what I could around the silence shackle.
“Amabel and Eluned wanted me to know I didn’t belong here.”
“Which one kicked you?” Koa’s eyes told me he was already planning how to dissect them organ by organ and, to be honest, I wasn’t all that opposed.
“Eluned. She hurt Brummy, too, when he tried to protect me.” I reached down and rubbed inside his ears, earning a canine groan of happiness. “My poor baby.”
“What about this?” Casimir ghosted his fingers across the goosebump on my temple.
“Amabel prefers her fists if she has to get physical.” Apparently the whisperbind didn’t cover physical abuse.
“And this?” He skimmed the mark on my jaw.
“Eluned’s shoe. I can’t remember much, though. I wasn’t really conscious for long after Amabel kicked my infected arm and Eluned stomped on my sore ankle.”
“Those bitches!” Koa’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “They’ll answer for what they’ve done, beloved! I swear it!”