Chapter 51 Kidan
KIDAN
When Samson swept through the room later that afternoon, Kidan had her blood poured into a glass, and was reading by the crackling fire.
Unlike before, the gusts of heat made sweat appear in the hollow of her neck.
She was aware of every rustle and breeze, the sun outside pouring into Susenyos’s scrolls, the branches against the window.
The walls of the house no different from her own skin.
Samson trekked dirt in with his boots, and without speaking, he downed the glass. It was only half full, on purpose.
Before he could bark at her for more, she said, “I have an assignment I need your help with.”
On the wooden table, the long red band she’d been tied up with Susenyos sat. Briefly, Kidan told Samson the instructions, trying to make her voice bored.
“Obey your companion for six hours?” His starless eyes moved with eagerness, roving over her. “Finally, this school is teaching you about true servitude.”
He took slow strides to the rope and secured his wrist to it. Kidan rose, tamping down the nausea she felt, and secured the tail end to her wrist.
Instead of expressing her usual rage, Kidan tried to lull the room into a warm, safe environment, drawing circles on her thigh.
She tried to wrap the feeling around Samson, and could visualize it, a wash of color heading toward him, hurtling then—collapsing like a deck of cards.
She frowned as the feeling retreated to her like snapped threads.
There was a shield around him, made of darkness.
If circles wouldn’t work, she moved to her next symbol. Triangle. Rage.
At once, the glass flew out of his hand and shattered against the wall. Fuck. Wrong emotion to ignite.
“Arin’s missing,” he growled. “Have you seen her?”
Though panic jittered her bones, Kidan didn’t blink. “No.”
Samson’s veins, light green under deep brown skin, became visible. “And Susenyos?”
“I know where he is.”
He flashed closer to her, jaw flexing. “Where?”
Slowly, Kidan drew the symbol for trust against her thigh. Urging the house to coax it out of him but it was like drawing water from an empty well. Of course Samson didn’t trust her.
Obsculion needed the seeds of a true emotion.
“I’m going to tell you how to punish him,” she said slowly, fighting off the sudden shift in color from the house.
A slight spark ignited in Samson’s eyes, cautious, but curious too.
The seed she was looking for.
“But you have to release GK if I do.”
Drums exploded in her ears, beneath her feet. The trouble with feeling all her emotions was how distracting they were.
“Tell me.” Samson’s starless eyes roved over her face. The urge to move out of his sight grew, but Kidan forced herself to meet his hungry gaze. More threads were growing out of him, and she knew what she had to do to open his mind to her.
“You wanted to know what the current Adane House law was,” she told him, fighting the flutter in her stomach. “I’ve finally learned it. It’s about Susenyos. The house took away his vampirism.”
Samson cocked his head, brows raised, a tiny window parting in his onyx pupils. “This better not be a lie, heiress.”
“I’m not lying. I’ll show you.”
She turned to walk but he tightened his grip on the rope, jerking her to a stop. After a moment, he let her lead him down to the basement, the red string dangling from her right hand now connected to him.
It was an effort not to strangle him with it.
Kidan kept her face forward, hoping he wouldn’t see the disgust on her face. A stone-like chill bit at her when they reached the underground.
“He’s in here.”
The light flicked on.
Bottles of red wine and liquor sparkled in the darkness. A stale, plastic smell lingered thickly from old mats.
And there, in the corner, chained inside the wine cellar was Susenyos.
The sight made Kidan’s blood heat. Though she had tried to prepare Susenyos for it, she hadn’t prepared herself. She was afraid she wouldn’t last an hour.
I trust you.
He’d said those words as she locked him in, his face cut by the bars.
It had meant everything to her.
Solidified something between them.
Samson’s smug expression grew alive as he approached. He studied the chains with eager, brightening eyes. “Heaven in hell.”
The bars caught fire, nearly melting.
Breathe, she told herself.
The fire retreated.
Susenyos rested the book he was reading as if guests had come upon him. He was silent, a true artist in concealing his expression.