Chapter 19
Vad
My claws curled inward until their stinging sharpness cut into my palms, grounding me.
The fecking bastard scum.
He had desecrated my observatory.
My precious books, logs, and records lay scattered across the floor and under the table and desk, spines broken and pages torn or bent. The shelves were empty of all their former treasures and were now haphazardly stacked with crushed gems, broken figurines, and shattered jewelry.
And my telescope, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and a representation of the precious bond between my mother and me, was dismantled. Every single piece had been taken apart and strewn across the nearest table beneath the domed window.
He hadn’t just taken over the room. He’d tried to erase me from it.
Every oil lamp had been lit, from the ones on the walls to the hand lamps on the table and desk.
The glow caught in the shards of fractured jewelry and cracked crystal, sending glints ricocheting off the ceiling and the domed window above.
Some of the light even caught on the telescope lenses and beamed upward.
Enchanted objects littered every surface, most of them split open or melted down, as if he had been clawing through them for some hidden truth.
The night brandy was gone and the decanter overturned and thrust against a pile of gold and silver jewelry, the two matching cups next to it. The couches had been kicked askew. Pillows tossed aside. Not even the rug had escaped unscathed, with blood or ink streaked across it.
At the center of it all, like a parasite nesting inside a hollowed-out host, stood Colm.
He wore one of my black, embroidered robes.
The fine silk swam over his frame, and the sleeves dragged near his wrists as he hunched over a shadow beast sculpture at my desk.
He worked the chisel with an obsessive calm.
A low hum vibrated from his throat, tuneless and hollow.
His filigree silver claw tips gleamed in the lamplight, clicking against the tools.
I gripped the doorframe so tightly that the stone grated beneath my fingers.
Rage pulsed through me, molten and merciless.
He had violated everything sacred. This room had been my sanctuary.
It was here I’d first kissed Briar. Where I’d realized how much I loved her.
Where I had retreated when I needed peace.
And now? Now it reeked of him. That sharp vinegar scent burned my nostrils.
My wings flexed tightly against my spine, readying to attack.
He had to die.
Briar’s hand pressed against my shoulder. Vad, what’s wrong?
Briar’s voice bled into my mind, frayed and fading through our weakened bond, but clear enough. She grounded me and pulled me back from doing something reckless.
I straightened, aligning my spine and wings with sharp control. It’s fine. Not the truth, but enough for now.
I’m sorry, she linked back.
There was nothing to apologize for. She understood. She always understood.
I gave her a sharp nod, then slowly unsheathed my sword. The whisper of metal against scabbard was a promise—one I intended to keep.
I pushed the door wider, and Colm didn’t look up.
The crack of stone rang through the room as his chisel struck again, splintering the sculpture’s neck. He hissed, sounding displeased with the result. He adjusted one of his claw tips, then dragged it along the fracture, testing the resistance.
“Worthless thing,” Colm muttered, flinging the chisel over his shoulder. It clanged against a shelf, sending a small avalanche of broken jewelry clattering to the floor. He reached for another figurine, this one a merlinite stallion etched with silver veins. “Perhaps you’ll prove more useful.”
I moved farther into the room, careful not to disturb the fallen books any more than I had to.
Briar followed close behind, her steps silent and her sword lowered.
Thalen slid out to the right, his sword drawn as well.
Veralt brought up the rear, ducking to avoid striking his head, his sword sheathed at his side and his hand resting near the hilt.
Colm set the stallion on the desk, picked up the chisel and mallet, and broke it apart. The neck snapped, and a faint puff of dust rose up. The vinegar scent intensified, and he growled.
I lifted the blade of my sword, preparing to chop his head off.
The shadow of my arm moving up slid across the desk, and I realized too late that my usual ability to keep my shadows contained had vanished.
Feck.
Colm froze, and with maddening calm, he set down the broken stallion and turned, squaring his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” He cut his gaze to me, his dull green gaze looking unbearably smug.
“Killing me wouldn’t end well for you or your little family, especially the prisoners.
If anything happens to me, they all die. ”
“I don’t need to let you speak to end you.” I stepped forward, letting the edge of my blade cut the side of his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. “You won’t have time to give any orders, and even if you scream, they won't get here in time.”
He flinched slightly but didn’t retreat. Blood welled at his neck, and yet his smile never wavered. “Are you sure about that? Willing to gamble with innocent lives?” His voice dripped with poisonous amusement. “Children, you know. Helpless little ones who’ve never done anything wrong.”
Veralt moved closer, stepping through the wreckage of paper and ink-stained pages. “What in the void are you talking about?”
“That’s not a funny joke,” Thalen growled from the side. “Say another word like that, and I’ll show you exactly what pain feels like while you’re begging to die.”
Colm chuckled with a sly grin that curled his hatchet-shaped face into a sneer. “You think I don’t know? Not that it matters. Children, who have never done anything wrong, will know what that’s like if you kill me or make me disappear.”
Briar stepped beside me with her sword pointed at his heart. Her stance was lethal and still, and she kept her eyes locked on him, unblinking. But something punched through our bond. The pressure of unease and concern.
I scowled, acid pooling in the pit of my stomach. He was far too calm. Is he lying, Briar?
I…I don’t know. Her voice flickered in my mind, taut and conflicted. She adjusted her grip on her sword but kept it aimed at Colm, maintaining a mask of calm and confidence. The vinegar smell—it’s too strong. It’s masking everything. I can’t tell.
Damn it. I kept my blade at his throat, even as my instincts warred inside me. It’s all right. We’ll take him prisoner and get our answers.
Colm beamed. “Are you frightened, Briar? You should be.” He chuckled.
Briar’s shoulders locked, her breathing tightening.
Enough.
I struck him in the mouth with my fist and the hilt of my sword. He stumbled back into the desk with a choking cough, still clutching the broken figurine in one hand. Blood gushed from his lips and down his chin, but even as he clutched his jaw, his grin widened grotesquely.
“You can’t kill me, Vad,” he croaked with red staining his teeth. “And you really shouldn’t take me prisoner.” He tapped his silver claw tips together, the metallic clicks echoing through the ravaged room. “This was your mistake. You’ve already lost.”
He turned his gaze toward Briar. “If you all surrender now, I’ll give you a mercy none of you deserve. A swift death. Even for your wretched little mutated mate.”
“You do not speak of her that way. Don’t even look at her.
” A growl rumbled from deep within my chest as I pressed the flat of my blade against his shoulder, the edge aligned with his throat.
I pushed just enough to break skin, sting, and make a mark.
His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t protest or flinch… just stared.
I spat out, “Thalen, get rope. Veralt, check the door.”
Colm’s smile never faltered. “While you’re scuttling about, go ahead and take this off my hands.”
He flung the fractured shadow beast sculpture toward Veralt with a flick of his wrist. “It’s as worthless as everything else in this place.”
The back of my neck burned as fury surged through me. My grip tightened, blade ready to drive straight through him if this was an attempt at escape or distraction.
Veralt’s eye widened in surprise. He lurched to the side, catching the two broken pieces just before they could strike the floor.
His thigh slammed into the table, sending everything atop it into motion.
Crushed gems and fractured lenses clinked and jostled.
The oil lamp rocked precariously, its red liquid sloshing just shy of spilling over the rim.
The beam of reflected light fractured and disappeared.
Nothing had fallen, but it had come damn close.
“Fecking void.” Veralt's shoulders slumped. He cradled the pieces for a moment, then carefully placed them on a clear stretch of the table. Adjusting his eyepatch, he shot Colm a glare. “Destructive sort, aren’t you?”
Thalen let out a low whistle. “Clutter’s never been my style, but this?” He gestured to the chaos. “You’ve taken junkyard chic to a whole new level. You prefer trash dens over actual research?”
Briar’s breath eased slightly, but her sword never lowered. Her upper lip curled. “You’re the most vile man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met murderers. I won’t let you hurt any of those children.”
Colm turned toward her and smirked.
A snarl ripped from my throat, and I used the flat of my blade to force his face back toward me. The edge sliced a shallow line into his cheek. “Try that again, and I will silence you. Your guards won’t save you. Don’t even think about screaming for help.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please. The guards are stationed at the front of the royal quarters, not here. And even if they did hear something, they’d assume it was me dismantling more of your precious trinkets.”