Chapter 54 Kidan
KIDAN
The golden threads around Samson’s chest grew with every hour he tortured Susenyos. Kidan tried to block out his pain, so similar to the times he suffered in the observatory, and dined with Samson in the quiet.
Kidan usually avoided the dining room. It was a preserved thing, an odd display for a large family that no longer existed.
Two giant wall-to-wall tables, one red, one white, occupied the space, playing host to an angel and devil.
At the white-covered table, there were five chairs, and on it five cups, a name carved on each of the five plates.
Kais Dawit. Yodit Adane. Silia Adane. Mahlet Adane. Aman Yisak.
Samson had settled on the red-clothed table with Kidan at the opposite end.
Here, it was fifteen chairs, fifteen metal goblets, no plates.
The names etched onto the goblets were older: Ruth.
Daric. Beniam. Susenyos. Kidan eyed Susenyos’s goblet and imagined him here, sitting among the others, laughing and drinking.
The dranaics pledged to her family. Before he murdered them all.
Her meat was tasteless, and it only made her think of Etete’s spice-infused siga wots.
Kidan could still hear the violent snap of her neck, see the moment life fled her kind eyes.
Etete would haunt her for years to come, and all Kidan could do was try to honor her one wish—to work with Susenyos and stop fighting him.
Though she was afraid of pushing too soon, risking the plan, Kidan was growing impatient. She couldn’t sleep with Susenyos chained in the cellar. Couldn’t get his grunts out of her head.
Slowly, Kidan chewed on a piece of steak and asked, “Where do you go when you’re not here?”
Samson rested his fork and stared at her from across the table. Under the tablecloth, her fingers continued drawing her pentagon shape, her trust symbol, imbuing the room with brilliant gold. Small flecks rested on his shoulder, sinking into him.
He motioned with his hand, and she pushed back her chair, walking toward him. His slitted eyes ran down her figure for the first time. She was wearing a dress that exposed her arms and neck. For easy access.
Swiftly, Samson rose to his feet and tipped her neck backward.
Her heart pounded. He was finally going for her neck.
His razor-sharp fangs met with her throat.
Samson’s want was a palpable force, suffocating.
He imagined himself emperor standing before Susenyos’s court of vampires, holding what they all prized most—the three artifacts…
And… a girl with fawn skin and a cascading laugh with a ring on her finger.
Talaa.
The court scene morphed to an image of Samson alone.
In possession of the blade artifact. The renowned swords, silver and long, were like the surface of water and one swing from them could split the fine hair of a child.
Samson tried to break them. According to the myths—the one who broke all three artifacts would become Sage.
And yet… even pure supernatural strength could not bend it.
Every muscle in his body tried nonetheless.
When that didn’t work, Samson moved to fire.
Yet no heat would melt the blades. Even when he dropped them into volcanic ash, they reemerged unblemished.
He showed Kidan all of it in sharp, cutting flickers. For decades, Samson had tried every method he could to break the artifact. It was impossible.
His fear was a venom-breathing dragon, his desire to succeed occupied every inch of his body.
Once he let her go, Kidan sagged into the chair and returned to the present slowly. Samson was watching her intently.
She rubbed the small punctures on her neck, trying to make sense of what she’d discovered. Not the location of the Nefrasi hideout or where the blade artifact was but something even more confusing.
“You… can’t break the blades, can you?” she said. “You’re afraid that after all these years, even with all the artifacts, they can’t be broken.”
Samson said nothing, still studying her with a mixture of confusion and anger. Kidan shifted uncomfortably at his silence. It dawned on her very quickly that Samson must have seen her desire. What had he seen?
“I can taste him all over you.” His eyes narrowed. “You want to free him.”
Fuck.
“He saved me. Once.” She opted for honesty, recovering. “I feel like I owe him.”
“It’s what he does. He chooses who’s worthy of life and who isn’t. Plays God. If he saved you, it means it cost him nothing.”
Trust threads flickered but didn’t disappear, so she pushed a little. “What happened to her? Talaa.”
A shimmer of pain crossed his face. “He killed her.”
“What?”
Pure hatred rioted in Samson’s eyes, enough to make Kidan lean back in the chair.
“Do you know how it feels to lose the only person that understood you, heiress? There is no more light in the world without her. There can be no more light. No more laughter. And once I’m Sage, if I cannot have her, I will teach the world true darkness.”
Kidan didn’t breathe until he pulled on his coat, checked his watch, and said, “I need to meet your fucking professor. Don’t go downstairs.”
He left the house. The light above Kidan flickered rapidly, and the walls shuddered in warning, along with her pounding heart rate. She’d never known such absolute ruin and hatred in one soul. Complete surrender to revenge.
Kidan got to her feet quickly and grabbed a bowl of water before going to Susenyos’s prison.
She tried to shake the chill of Samson’s words, but it followed her closely, seeping into her bones.
She imagined a world under the rules and laws of a new Sage.
The choice to save or destroy resting in the palm of one’s hand—it was terrifying. Exhilarating.
Iniko and Taj would be nearby, keeping an eye out for when Samson returned, so she kept her phone close.
She opened the cellar and went to Susenyos. Using the dim bulb present, he was reading The Mad Lovers in the corner, making some sort of tally in the margins. The sight made her smile a little. A soft hum surrounded them.
His cheek was drying a dark red, and dirt covered his hands and face. There had to be bruises but his bloodied shirt hid them. Kidan knelt before him, anger burning a pit in her stomach.
“Are you…”
Susenyos winced as he put his book aside. “I’m fine.”
Her throat constricted, wishing all of this would be over soon.
Quietly, she started to clean his face. Right where she had sliced him with the knife. He watched, hissing softly when it stung.
“I can’t put a Band-Aid on it,” she said, eyes tracking his. “He’ll know.”
“It’s fine.”
She put the rag back in the bowl, wringing it. “Thank you… for all this. I know how dangerous this is.”
“It’s true. Especially your aim. You nearly took out my eye.”
Her lip arched, catching the glint in his pupils. Having him on her side felt so good. She hated to ruin what little ease they’d found.
But she would be honest with him.
“I found out something,” she said.
“Hmm?” Susenyos murmured.
“Samson can’t break the blade artifact. He’s tried everything for years.”
Susenyos pulled back a little, blinked. “He can’t…”
Kidan nodded, taking a deep breath and sitting back on the concrete. It wasn’t cold, the house keeping them warm. “I saw it. If the artifacts can’t be broken, then all of this was a lie. No one can be Sage, no one can break the binds.”
His forehead creased, before he shook his head. “That’s impossible. We just haven’t found what can break it.”
Silence swallowed them. A faraway look possessing Susenyos. More than the beating he’d received, it seemed this blow was the one that devasted him.
“There’s something we’re missing,” he repeated.
“I’ll find out.”
Susenyos’s eyes moved over her. He would never stop this quest, would he?
“I saw something else,” she said, her voice a little haunted.
“If he can’t have Talaa, he’ll ruin everything.
Destroy the world.” Her eyes traced a symbol on the floor.
“What would it feel like, I wonder. To turn all your hatred outward, to have it grow so much you can only get relief if everyone else is as miserable as you.”
When he remained quiet, she lifted her chin to look at him. His eyes were heavy, steady.
“You sound fascinated, not terrified.”
She frowned. “I’m disgusted.”
“Careful, yené Roana, don’t linger too long in the dark.”
The room softened, and she felt the barrier between them dissolve again. She wanted to be even closer, but she remained where she was.
“I thought you liked girls who dreamed in the dark,” she said.
Susenyos wasn’t unsettled but cautious, like he’d considered this path before and knew of the dangers lurking in it.
“Dream in the dark, yes. But know the dark has dreams too, a need to whisk us all to oblivion. And I very much like to exist. I want you to exist. So we command the dark, we never let it possess us.”
A very thin line. And she knew firsthand how easy it was to slip under its thrall.