26. Speak Your Curse, Say Your Vow
Speak Your Curse, Say Your Vow
Rumor Malefic
The aroma of bacon beckoned me from sleep the next morning. Twenty had procured a large breakfast spread in a tray on the bed. “Did I mention I really, really like having a familiar?”
“You could stand to mention it more,” he purred. “So, what’s on the agenda today? Who shall you curse, maim, or dismember?”
Bacon crunched between my teeth as I stretched to life. “Whoever pisses me off most, I suppose. Though I have a lot of questions for you, oh, Mr. Third Blackthorne Boy.”
“I imagine you do.” He straightened his collar in the mirror and fluffed his hair. “And unlike my brothers, who I imagine are less than forthcoming, I am happy to impart whatever knowledge I have in order to aid you, my dear witch, in bringing them down.”
“Why do you hate them so much?”
Twenty paused his grooming, and his left ear twitched. “ This one always ruins everything.”
“What? Who?”
A knock sounded at the door. “Into the wardrobe I go,” Twenty grumbled, climbing into the closet.
Once he was safely concealed, I shouted, “Come in.”
My heart raced as the door swung open and Riot strolled in.
In his hands, he held a velvet box. “Good morning.” He looked around the room and surveyed my bed, almost as if he were checking to see if I were alone or if I’d been alone the previous night.
Why would he wonder? Did he think something happened between Spade and I? “I come bearing gifts.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” I shoved my breakfast tray away and crossed my arms. “No, actually, I changed my mind. Jump off a cliff. That’s what I want.”
“Oh, darling.” He put a hand to his chest. “You remembered that I adore heights. Remind me to show you my observatory sometime. Tis at the highest point of the castle and the stars are beautiful.”
With a huff, I turned my head away. “I have no desire to talk to you, Riot.”
“I understand,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Giving him a reluctant glance, I assessed his perfect skin, his sharp jaw, and lean muscular frame. His white hair and clothing were perfectly in order, and nothing marred his skin. “You look way too intact after the beating Spade gave you last night.”
“Is that what he told you? Spade’s always been a damn liar. He couldn’t hurt me if he tried.”
“Somehow I highly doubt that.”
Riot arched an eyebrow. “Seems as if your opinions of him have changed? Not sure I like that. My brother is not the kind gentleman he tries to portray when he aims to impress a lady.”
“Don’t you have someplace to be? Another town you can abandon and ignore, perhaps?”
Riot slumped his shoulders. “You’re mistaking your opinion for truth again, rat. Now, open the box and let’s get on with you forgiving me.”
“I take it you won’t go away until I do, so fine.
” Snatching the velvet box from his hands, I popped open the lid.
An ivory dagger with a glimmering, pearlescent handle sat on a tuft of red silk.
It was gorgeous, something ancient and precious, like something royalty would carry or display in their halls.
“For me?” I asked, in disbelief he’d willingly give me such a lavish item.
“For you. An apology for my actions last night. I didn’t know… Well, I was wrong. It doesn’t happen often, but I suppose I was.”
I picked up the knife, feeling a faint buzz of magic in its hilt. The handle sat snugly in my hand, smaller than average daggers, as if this one were crafted especially for a woman. “To kill you with?” I asked, angling the tip of the blade toward him.
The corner of Riot’s lips lifted. “It would be an honor to be murdered by you. Unfortunately for us both, killing me takes more than a key dagger.”
Pausing my twirling of the knife, the surly Blackthorne caught my attention. “What’s a key dagger?”
“That, my dear, is the second part of the apology tour.” He stood, offering his hand. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
I arched an eyebrow, fighting to resist his charm and that lazy smile that enticed me so thoroughly. “Let me get dressed first.”
“Go right ahead.” Riot gestured to the wardrobe. “Let it be known, I know what’s hiding in your closet right now.”
My heart sank, and I paused on the edge of the bed, the dagger heavy in my palm. “W-what?”
“Something revealing, slutty, and white? Perhaps with fishnets? Though, I did love that little red number you were wearing last night. I would have loved more to see it in a pile on the floor of my bedroom.”
My cheeks flushed, and I bit my lower lip to hide my smile. “I’ll meet you in the hallway—wearing a potato sack.”
“Splendid,” Riot said with a self satisfied smile. “Don’t keep me waiting long.” Disappearing out the door, I rushed to the wardrobe.
Twenty sat in the corner, holding his knees while I rifled through the magical clothing options. “Son of a bitch,” I cursed. “They’re all slutty, and they all involve fishnets. I hate your creep of a brother.”
Twenty arched a brow. “Yes, that sly smile and giddy little pep in your step screams you hate Riot.”
I jerked a pair of fishnets, a black leather skirt, and a corset from their hangers. A small harness dangled between the garments. “Well, at least the wardrobe included a dagger holster so I can stab any one of you whenever the moment compels me.”
“Me first,” Twenty grumbled. “You have no idea how much I loathe that he gave you that… And that red dress was my puddle on the bed last night. In fact, so were you. Don’t forget that on your little date.”
Rolling my eyes, I shut the wardrobe, silencing my jealous familiar. “Why don’t you do something productive while I’m manipulating your brother.”
“Like what?” Twenty called as I stripped off my nightgown.
Pulling on the fishnets and skirt, I moved to lacing my corset, admiring how fierce I looked in the mirror. “Familiars talk to each other, right? Could you gather information from Never, Spade’s bird? He told me last night she had seen Prism. If she knows where she is, then I could go find her.”
Twenty kicked open the wardrobe door and stepped out. “Then what happens when you find her in a den of withers? You think that little key dagger will save you against the most ruthless creatures in the realm?”
I combed my hair, liking the healthy bounce within the dark waves.
Maybe it was the soaps, regular meals, or renewed sense of purpose, but my hair and skin were beginning to look alive again.
“Better hope you have some really grand familiar powers to get me out of that pickle, should the time come.” I smiled sanguinely. “See you later.”
Twenty grabbed my wrist as I turned to leave. “Don’t forget what I said.”
“Which part?”
A loud, annoyingly rhythmic knock peppered the door. “It is so boring out here picturing you naked and changing in there.”
Twenty’s cat ears laid back in irritation. “I’ll see if Never will speak to me and not give me away to Spade. It’s a long shot, she’s loyal, but ravens have a mind of their own, too.”
“Thank you.” Standing on my tiptoes, I planted a soft kiss on Twenty’s cheek. “See you soon.”
On my way out, I strapped the harness and white dagger to my thigh, pretending not to notice my familiar’s longing stare.
In the hall, Riot poked at a statue, the soldier in stone swatting his finger away. “These guys are really fucking weird, aren’t they?”
“You know, I have that thought several times a day, but not about the statues.” Breath caught in my ribs at the shameless way Riot’s eyes roamed by body in appreciation.
He let out a low whistle. “Nice potato sack. I’m glad the wardrobe still likes me.” His palm landed on my lower back as we traversed the hall.
Taking his wrist, I pushed him away. “Watch out, I’m armed now.”
“Which somehow only makes you all the more irresistible.” Riot’s eyes sparkled as he gestured down a hall I hadn’t traveled before. I was sure I could spend years exploring this castle and not know the whole of it.
Pulling my attention from a pair of paintings depicting ballroom dancers swaying in the rain, I asked, “What happened to your third brother?”
Riot strolled aimlessly with his hands behind his back, occasionally glancing at the paintings or statues. “Why do you ask? Two Blackthorne boys not enough for you to handle?”
I snorted. “You both are pretty useless in general, if that’s what you mean. Maybe the third is the one who gets things done.”
“Our brother Twenty is a damn fool.”
“Why is that?”
“Why the sudden interest?” Riot paused, eyeing me skeptically.
“Just curiosity.”
“Well.” Riot turned a corner. “You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.”
My throat tightened with suspicion. Did he know that his brother was hiding as a half-cat-man in my room? He couldn’t, right?
The tall, white-haired Blackthorne stopped outside an enormous domed doorway. Carved in the wood, a sleeping face protruded from the dark walnut grain. Beneath its chin was an upside down triangle groove. “You wanted to show me a spooky door?”
“Your gift is behind the spooky door… but he’s finicky about who he lets in. The key dagger you’ve got strapped to your voluptuous thigh should help.”
“Pig,” I scolded. “How do I get in?”
Riot smirked. “Press the dagger into the groove and whisper something true into his lips.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I never kid. I’m the most serious and upstanding man you’ll ever meet.”
A small cackle pried from my throat at that.
Though despite the door and Riot’s combined oddity, my curiosity, along with the magic in the air, pulled me forward like a feather on a string.
Something about the castle itself felt all encompassing—wrapping me in a cocoon of bewildering darkness.
As much as I tried to resist, I wanted to know more, find more, discover more.
With the dagger at my front, I pressed it into the door’s groove. It fit perfectly.
“How many of these daggers exist?” I asked.