Chapter 14
Nelle
The door swung open, and Penn took several hasty steps toward the steam trunk. My gaze sliced to Valarie as she swept regally into the room.
She raked her gaze over my figure, a pleased smile blooming on her lips. “Moonlight, indeed. Well done, Penn.”
Penn inclined her head and continued packing the trunk, quiet and efficient.
“Just one more thing,” Valarie said to me, her tone enigmatic. “Stand still and don’t move.”
I froze as she stepped behind me. I couldn’t see what she was doing. Nor could I see her expression, but I felt it. Hunger. She was hungry for something.
My breath tightened in my throat.
Hellsgate, did she know about the mites?
She took a step closer. One more step and her body heat washed against mine.
Not heat, I realized, but a bone-biting chill, as if she and the northern glaciers were the same.
It reminded me of Graysen. There had been many occasions when he’d acted coldly toward me because he dared not let me in.
He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything for me, and it had manifested physically—a coldness that nipped at my skin.
Much like Valarie right now.
I heard the faintest clink, like bone tapping bone, and whirled around, retreating several steps.
Valarie had something hidden behind her back.
“What are you holding?”
As she untucked her hand, I glimpsed a pale shape, jointed and angular. “When I heard we were heading to the Emporium. I thought—what better time to make use of it than here?”
She held it aloft, and the thing grasped between her fingers had dread coiling low in my stomach.
It looked like something that had crawled out of an ossuary.
Two skeletal hands, fused by a short, curved length of forearm, pale as old ivory and tipped with black talons that thinned to fine, wicked points.
The bone was aged and weathered, its surface pitted like something long buried.
At the wrist, long chains hung in a loose spill.
Chains made from tiny bones strung together and clicking softly against each other as the thing moved.
Because it was moving.
The artifact twitched, its long, skeletal fingers flexing as if waking from a dream.
I recoiled, stumbling backward, side-catching myself on the dressing table and making it rock. “What the fuck is that?”
“This is the Furyos Bonefall, forged by the Blacksmith.”
Its fingers flexed, slow and deliberate, the talons raking the air, stretching toward me.
“These are her hands,” she said softly, her fingers gliding along a chain, “and a bone from every Horned God who fell with her in the Final War.”
I knew of Furyos. Every child did. She had flown beside Draxxon at the head of her winged brothers, fighting the Children of the Harbinger and their mortal legion until the end, even when the sky itself was falling.
But…what was that thing now?
I backed away, and Valarie stepped forward.
The tiny bones bore etching, the slashing-marks reminding me of the language painted onto the lizard-skin tapestries at the Purveyor of Rarities. And a film of ghostly magic pulsed faintly along the chains, a cold shimmer that slithered across my skin.
“Those traitors who never made it to the Godsbane Prison wore this device… Well, only for a while.”
“What do you mean, wore it?”
Valarie pointed at me, and that thing exploded with life, fingers clawing, reaching for me, writhing within her grasp.
She dropped the Bonefall, and it landed like a cat on the tips of its talons. It scuttled across the floor, right for me.
I shrieked, jerking backward. My heel caught in my skirt, and I tumbled onto my ass.
Oh my fucking gods!
I scrambled backward like a crab.
The chains thrashed like octopus tentacles as it charged, kept charging.
It sprang, leaping through the air, fingers flaring wide in eagerness.
I twisted around, trying to wrench myself upright.
It landed on my back, a monstrous weight, and I felt it crawling swiftly, its talons digging into my flesh. And then it was too late, its fingers latched around my throat, squeezing and shifting for a better hold.
It was the sound of Penn’s gasp of horror that had my gaze slicing sidelong to hers, and I watched all the color drain from her face. I rose, the chains tumbling like a waterfall down my front, and turned to face the mirror, to peer at the same spot Penn stared with big, wide eyes.
My stomach lurched into freefall.
My gaze dragged along those merciless fingers, heartless in their distinctive shape.
My hair was up, makeup pale and muted. The dress was seductively beautiful, yet simple.
Everything about me had been designed to direct everyone’s attention to Furyos Bonefall twitching around my throat.
There was nothing subtle in this message. It was blatant and loud and aggressive.
I breathed through my nose, steadying my frightened heartbeat.
I couldn’t allow any more weakness in front of Valarie. Indeed, any of the Crowthers.
Strength flowed through me. Spitefulness, too.
I didn’t notice Lila return until she breezed around me in a flutter of ivory silk.
And she wasn’t alone.
Sheer tulle swished against my legs as I twisted around to watch Kenton stroll inside.
Like Caidan, he wasn’t dressed for the heat.
He’d shed his jacket, but over his lightweight shirt he still wore a waistcoat.
Maybe I’d strike a bit of luck and all the Crowthers would topple over from heatstroke and die.
He spoke to his aunt in a deep, brusque voice. “Zielenski’s waiting for us. Jett and Caidan are still working the room.”
I huffed a cold laugh, folding my arms and popping out a hip. “Working the room? Are they sliding up and down stripper poles to earn a bit of pocket money?”
There wasn’t a single twitch of his lips or even a narrowing of his eyes in irritation to indicate he’d heard me. It was as if I were beneath his notice. Valarie frowned at my quip before heading toward the rack of leather cloaks to speak quietly with Lila.
Kenton sauntered closer with the indolent air of a mountain lion.
Perspiration glimmered at the base of his throat where his striped shirt was unbuttoned.
At least he’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing inky flames and the flourish of Ukkenskrit wrapping his powerful forearms down to his wrists.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and widened his stance as he angled his head, assessing my appearance.
It was an efficient glide of his gaze, nothing sexual, simply noting the details. No, Kenton wasn’t interested in me that way. I may as well have been a block of wood for all the emotion he showed.
But when his attention landed on the thing around my throat, he blinked, his focus sharpening. He studied it with the intensity someone might give a necklace of diamonds or a choker of rare pearls, his gaze tracing every knotted bone and talon.
Finally, he looked up to meet my stare.
Stoic. Unreadable. Exactly as he’d always been.
Only when his focus skipped past me to whoever lingered behind did his dark eyes flare wide with shock.
A brush of air stirred my skirt as someone stepped beside me. When I glanced sidelong, I found Penn standing there. My skin tingled with surprise and comfort as her warm fingers looped around mine.
Penn stared straight at Kenton in challenge.
I wondered again how she’d arrived at the Keep, and what she’d meant earlier by—it’s complicated.
I knew, deep in my soul, that Kenton loved her desperately.
Maybe they couldn’t be together because of their difference in rank.
More likely because she was from the world of mortals.
From what Graysen had told me about his ancestor Konrad marrying Posey, a mortal woman, he’d brought ruin to their Great House.
Their family line had almost been annihilated one storm-swept night.
I doubted the Crowthers were eager to tempt history into repeating itself all over again.
Kenton stood exactly like Penn, deathly still and rigid.
Penn might have been small and delicate, but right now she seemed like an iron warrior forged by fire.
The message she sent Kenton, though silent, was deafening.
She was the Crowthers’ last offering to the Witches, a reminder of the attempt they couldn’t go through with seven years ago.
She’d clearly become important to them. Especially to him.
Perhaps compassion had stayed their hand.
And here she was, standing beside me because she didn’t agree with what they were doing.
For a moment, like a meteor burning through the atmosphere, I saw past the facade Kenton presented to the world.
Emotions chased one another across his features as his gaze bounced between Penn and me.
Bleak guilt haunted the desperation, the uncertainty, the deep disquiet.
He shielded himself from Penn by stepping back abruptly and ducking his head.
Feathery locks slid over his forehead as he rubbed the back of his neck and squeezed his eyes shut.
He sucked in a breath, tension hardening his jaw as he straightened, his hand falling to his side.
His voice was gritty and oddly vulnerable when he gestured toward the door. “Go home, Penn.”
She didn’t move. Her fingers tightened around mine.
My heart kicked with worry when I realized Penn’s stand-off had caught Valarie’s notice. She twisted away from Lila and strode toward us. “Leave. Now!”
Penn flinched at the ruthless, cutting tone.
Anger slashed through my veins. I was about to bellow at the vicious woman when Kenton spun toward her, nostrils flaring, mouth pinched into a hard line of fury. “Aunt Valarie!”
She arched a brow, meeting his thunderous glare with one carved from ice, as if saying—She shouldn’t be here. A beat of silence passed, a battle of wills, before she turned back to Penn. Her tone softened considerably. “Your duties here are over. A car is waiting outside to take you home.”