Chapter 24 Kidan
KIDAN
Kidan fought sleep, alternating between two subjects in the library.
Learning more about her mother, and trying to uncover more myths about the artifacts and how they worked.
The exhausting process was also keeping her mind off Samson’s proposal.
She had managed to answer the second question about her mother in the Four Points of Culture.
Religion.
There were two major religions in Uxlay—one whose adherents worshipped the Last Sage, like the Mot Zebeyas, who called themselves Guards of Death; and one whose adherents worshipped Demasus the Fanged Lion.
In her mother’s private diaries, sketches of impala horns were displayed along with chains of bones, both of which were used in praising the Last Sage.
It was similar to GK’s journal, the meditations on stillness and peace.
A prayer that always said: The loss of one finger should cut as deeply as the loss of a hand.
Kidan leaned back, looking at how far she’d progressed.
MAHLET ADANE
What language does the house master dream in?
Amharic.
Does the house master believe creation comes from the Last Sage or from Demasus the Fanged Lion?
The Last Sage.
Does the house master believe power should rest in community, tradition, or individuals?
Does the house master believe in bravery, revenge, loyalty, responsibility, or family?
Kidan didn’t believe in either the Last Sage or Demasus. She supposed she could begin to practice her mother’s faith, inch her way to inheriting her culture, but that still left the troubling case of the language. And the two other questions she had no idea how to answer.
Then there was her parents’ murder.
Grotesque and cruel.
Her scalp pricked with the sensation of being watched. She ignored it but it persisted, a powerful demanding presence from the center of the library. Kidan lifted her head.
Her heart stopped. Startled.
Susenyos was standing there, watching her. He was shirtless and his twists were down, framing his piercing, unwavering gaze. A few students burning the midnight oil had stopped and noticed.
There was something haunting about the way his attention solely focused on her.
Susenyos crossed over to her in a blink.
Silently, he reached for her and guided her to her feet.
Kidan went with him, her heart hammering.
The black of his pupils had given way to a reddish gold.
One hand cupped the side of her neck, solid and unmovable.
Kidan swallowed. “Yos?”
He barely heard her, a haze over his eyes.
Susenyos’s fangs parted his lips. They seemed sharper than before, like the tip of a gleaming knife held against dark glossy skin.
Kidan’s body tensed, a swirl of anticipation and desire knotting inside her.
Susenyos lowered himself to her throat, the smell of eucalyptus and rose oil clinging to his hair.
Kidan’s pulse skittered. He wasn’t going to bite her here, was he? With people watching—
Acute pain exploded down the length of her neck and Kidan gasped.
It wasn’t a simple prick to draw out blood. His fangs had sunk deeper, full of urgent need. A sound of pleasure sang through him, his body weight sagging onto her. Soon, they’d be lost in each other’s memories but they weren’t alone.
They weren’t alone and he hadn’t asked.
Those thoughts were enough to slam some sense into her.
“Wait, wait.” Kidan tapped him quickly, her voice strained.
Susenyos pulled back, the movement of his teeth unlatching making her wince and clutch her neck. He studied her wide eyes and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her cheeks were on fire, blazing hot beneath his cupping palm.
He looked surprised, a little lost as the haze cleared. She’d never seen him like this. Disheveled and with a complete disregard for Uxlay’s rules on blood drinking. But most of all, he always asked for her blood.
Something was wrong.
Kidan reached out to touch his shoulder. Quick as a viper, he ensnared her wrist, jerking her to a stop. Claws, black and wicked sharp, emerged, pinching her skin. Her heart dropped. A pair of blazing eyes met hers, the complete violence in them stuttering her heart.
Susenyos looked like he wanted to devour her…
His claws never appeared if he wasn’t near the very edge.
Her heart raced with irregular rhythm. For several seconds, a sharp spike of fear rose inside her, thrust back to their violent encounters, her old need to destroy all vampires for their wicked nature resurfacing, until gradually, softly, she remembered the kind things he’d done while wearing such a monstrous face.
Held her in the Bath of Arowa, saved her from herself.
His hand closed around where her butterfly bracelet used to be. Death had kissed her wrist once, until Susenyos removed it from her.
That was how she knew Susenyos wouldn’t hurt her.
“Yos,” she said softly. “Let go.”
Something in her voice reached him, gradually melted his hunger fever into reality. He let her go. She waited for him to speak. When Susenyos did nothing but stare at her with a confused gaze, Kidan quickly gathered her books, including her copy of Aseracti.
“Come on,” she said.
Dimly, he nodded. Kidan walked out, ignoring the murmuring students. His footsteps were behind her.
They walked quietly for some time. The night full of chill and silence. Adane House waited for them without any lights on, a sleeping giant that only woke when they stepped inside.
Susenyos stopped just before the porch. No shoes. And there were grass stains on the hems of his pants. The walk seemed to do the trick, though. He looked like his old self, more in control.
Had he come straight from his quarters? That must be why he didn’t put on shoes. He followed her gaze down and finally spoke. “I was injured earlier. Needed a little blood. Sorry, little bird. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
His voice was quite light, and she could have believed it was true save for the dark expression over his face.
“You didn’t frighten me. I was just surprised.”
She was trying very hard not to notice he was half naked. His key to the artifact room swung low around his neck. He ran a hand through his twists and studied the point in her neck long enough for her to touch it. There were small bubbles of blood.
And his… eyes. A burning-red sun forming in his pupil, flicking in and out. It felt different from his previous hunger. More dangerous, empty of want and filled with need.
Every nerve in my body will seek my companion’s blood.
“Should I get the pliers?” Her voice was surprisingly even, trying to break the tension.
He tried to laugh but it came out ragged and weak. “You’d torture me?”
“If you want me to.”
Susenyos swore softly, and turned away to rub his jaw. “Would you enjoy it like last time?”
“Of course.”
A smile spread across his face and a calm cloud settled over them.
“I messaged you,” she said. “You never responded.”
His tone was obscure. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Her chest tightened. “Angry about signing over the house to me?”
“I’m more angry at how cruel fate is.”
That wasn’t really an answer.
“I know who Lusidio is,” Kidan said carefully. “Why you want to keep him from getting the artifact.”
Once again, Susenyos stiffened at that name. “Dean Faris, I assume.”
“Yes.”
He released a breath. “Enemy outside Uxlay’s gates and enemy within. Who to destroy first?”
“You’ve been following the house votes?” she asked.
His face soured. “Makary and Ajtaf were expected to vote against us but I didn’t expect the dean. Always plotting.”
“I thought taking you out of the will would help. Next is Qaros House, at least. Slen will vote my way.”
Susenyos slid her an amused glance. “You still trust your little friends?”
“Don’t start. I know you don’t like Slen.”
A curl formed on his lips. “If she had succeeded, I would have been in Drastfort right now.”
Sacrificing Susenyos for your sister seems like the very thing you’d do—those were Slen’s words to her last semester, under the control of the 13th. But things were different now.
Susenyos studied her. “What did you want to talk about?”
Kidan exhaled. “My parents.”
The word “parents” nearly tripped on her tongue but she inclined her chin, ignoring it.
Susenyos paused, clearly not expecting that.
“You killed him, didn’t you? The vampire that murdered my parents? He took out their hearts.”
Kidan had wanted to sound neutral, but her lip quivered. He’d been there. He’d seen their bodies.
Susenyos’s face darkened. “It’s done. Leave it behind.”
“Where is Daric’s heart?”
A furrow shriveled Susenyos’s smooth forehead.
“I want it.”
“Kidan.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?” she insisted.
Susenyos didn’t hesitate. A line lengthened along his jaw. “Yes.”
“Then tell me where his heart is.”
Kidan shook, and his eyes dropped to her trembling finger, the involuntary drawing of her symbols against her thigh.
His own hand moved before it stopped. They both stared at their hands, a few inches apart.
One frantic, the brown of the earth, and the other still as death, near onyx.
She’d seen his long fingers reach for a jagged blade as easily as an inked pen.
His need to spill haunting words or righteous blood overwhelming him.
And right now, for a second, he’d reached for her that same way.
Like it was instinct, and she belonged in his hands.
She’d always wanted to be part of someone’s instinct, their very subconscious.
Difficult to shake once she’d taken root.
But she couldn’t be part of him. Not safely at least. Not without him taking a lot more from her.
“Yos,” Kidan said, harder now, the water cleared from her voice. “I need to know.”
Susenyos studied her pupils, searching, perhaps hoping she’d drop it, before saying, “Under Adane House. I buried his heart below the dining room.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise.
Of course.