Chapter 18 Sorin
CHAPTER 18
SORIN
S orin stood in the foyer of the Tyndell manor. They had just finished the weekly dinner meeting of generals and commanders with Lord Tyndell. Nearly everyone else had left, and it was just him, Cassius, and Drake now, Mikale having left moments before.
“I am going out to meet some of the men for a drink. You two coming?” Drake asked, adjusting his sword belt.
“No,” Cassius said. He cut a quick glance to Sorin before adding, “I’m just going to go to bed. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Drake gave a slight nod of understanding and slipped out the door. When the door had clicked shut, Sorin rounded on him. “She is still in your bed?”
Cassius dragged a hand through his brown hair. “She has not left it once since that morning.”
“That was two days ago,” Sorin hissed.
As if them discussing her was a summoning, she appeared at the top of the stairs. She was pale and in the same clothing she’d worn that night, although at least she’d put her tunic back on. She seemed to float down the stairs, her long hair unbound and flowing around her. She was barefoot and walked right by them like she didn’t even notice they were there.
“Scarlett,” Cassius whispered.
She kept walking straight to the front door. Sorin took a step to the side, blocking her path. She paused and lifted her chin, and the haunted eyes that found him nearly made his knees buckle. He could smell another scent intertwined with her own, one of spring rain and pine, and he ground his teeth together.
“Where are you going, Seastar?” Cassius asked gently, coming to her side.
“I want to play,” she whispered.
“Scarlett, you…We can’t go to the Black Syndicate like this. You have no weapons. No one will spar with you. He will not let you take any jobs right now…” Cassius trailed off.
“I need to play,” she repeated, trying to step around Sorin. Cassius reached for her arm, but she jerked out of his reach, again trying to step around Sorin. Cassius shook his head at Sorin in silent command, and he stepped in front of her again.
“She does not want to spar or fight or kill anyone.” Tava was descending the stairs now, a cloak in her hands. “She wants to play , Cassius. I am told it has been over a year since she has done so. Take her somewhere to play the piano.” She pressed the cloak into Cassius’s hands and headed down a hall.
Cassius turned, wrapping the cloak around Scarlett and doing up the buttons. “We will have to ride, Scarlett, and even then, I don’t know that going there, like this, is a good idea.”
“She plays the piano?” Sorin asked quietly.
Cassius looked up at him. “She does. Or she did. She hasn’t played since… She hasn’t played in a long time. There isn’t one here. There’s one at the compound where her mother worked and one at the Fellowship, but I can’t take her to the Black Syndicate like this.”
“Follow me,” Sorin said. “We can walk.”
They tried to convince Scarlett to put shoes on, but she refused, constantly trying to skirt around them and out the door. Cassius ended up carrying a pair of silk slippers in his hands, and Sorin led them the few blocks from the manor to his luxury apartment. Cassius kept a firm grip on her hand as they rounded another corner. She continued to say nothing, just walked along in silence, her bare feet not making a sound on the pavement. She was a phantasm in black with her silver hair flowing in the cool, summer breeze, and he could feel her. He could feel an icy sadness that clung to her bones. He could feel a flame so hot trying to thaw that ice, but it was suffocating.
Sorin unlocked the door to his apartment and crossed the room to light a few candles. Cassius gently pushed Scarlett farther into the room so he could shut the door behind them. He took the cloak from her shoulders, and Sorin pointed to the back left corner of the room where a grand piano sat. “There.”
Her eyes settled on the instrument and, as if it called to her, she drifted over to it. Sorin crossed his arms, leaning against the fireplace mantel as he watched her. Cassius stood motionless by the front door, seeming to hold his breath. She ran her fingers along the top, like she was contemplating what she was going to do. A finger drifted down and hovered over a key.
Play, Scarlett, Sorin urged in his mind, and as though she heard him, she pressed the key down. It was a low note, but it seemed to snap a tether in her. Silent tears were instantly wetting her cheeks as she lowered onto the bench. She brought her small hands to the keys and a chord sounded. A minor chord, haunted and full of sorrow. She stumbled over the keys for a few minutes, like she was reminding her fingers what they should be doing. Then… Then Sorin could only stare in awe as she played.
Sorin knew how to play the piano. He could read sheet music and play songs, but Scarlett could play . Her eyes were closed and tears splashed onto her hands as her fingers flew over the keys of ivory and ebony, never missing another note. He could feel every sound, every crescendo, and every pulse of music. Her melody was one of sadness and pain and grief.
Cassius crossed the room to stand beside him as she finished one song and went straight into another. She seemed to breathe in the sounds emanating from the piano. “She’s going to kill me for letting you see her play,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on her.
“Why did she stop?” Sorin asked. He could hardly get the words past the lump that had formed in his throat.
“Because they put her in a cage,” Cassius said simply.
Tonight I do not need to be reined in. Tonight I need to be let out. Her words clanged through him.
“What happened?” Sorin snarled softly.
“That is not my tale to tell. We have tried to coax her out of that cage for over a year, but now that she has tasted this freedom again…” He trailed off for a beat, but then said, “Why did she call you Sorin the other night?”
Sorin tensed. When Cassius had not asked him the next day, he had thought the Commander had missed when she had called him by his real name.
“Because that is my name. Who put her in a cage in the first place?” Sorin demanded. He would explain about his name later. His eyes were fixed on Scarlett as she swayed and moved with her melody, as if every minute she played was another release.
“People who will do whatever they can to shove her back in it,” Cassius answered grimly.
S CARLETT
She didn’t know how long she’d been playing. It could have been minutes or hours. She suspected the latter as she settled back into herself. Every song was like gulping down a breath of air when she hadn’t even realized she’d been suffocating. Sweat beaded her brow, and her cheeks were stained with trails of tears. She could still smell Callan on her hair, on her skin, and her song that had transformed into major chords transitioned abruptly back to the minor keys she’d been exhaling.
Movement out of the corner of her eye snagged her attention as the owner of that movement seemed to sense the sudden shift in her song as well. Her fingers kept moving over the keys as she realized she didn’t know where she was. She took in the doorway on the wall to the right that she guessed led to a kitchen, seeing as the dining table was across the room from her. It was piled high with books and papers, and sitting at it, reading reports of some sort, was Sorin. He had stiffened slightly when her song had switched keys, but his eyes remained on the papers he was studying, almost as if this had been happening all evening. She didn’t know. She didn’t really remember anything after crawling into Cassius’s bed after that night. The minutes had stretched into hours. The hours into days. How long ago had that been?
Without missing a beat, she looked over her shoulder. Cassius was stretched across a sofa before a hearth. There was a small fire in it, but it was more for light than warmth. He had a book propped open. The windows were unlatched, letting in the stifling night air. She breathed in deep, and her fingers clanged to a stop.
Sorin and Cassius both snapped their heads up to her. She stood from the piano bench, and Cassius was instantly on his feet. She saw Sorin’s sword belt discarded on the floor by his seat, and she snatched it up, drawing the blade from the sheath and staring at the window.
“Scarlett…” Cassius said cautiously.
Sorin was on his feet now, too, though not in front of her, guarding her, but beside her. He had a dagger resting casually in his own hand. “She is here,” was all he said.
A moment later, a shadow came in from the window. “Well, well,” came her voice of silk and honey. “Look who finally got out of bed.” She stood before them in her black clothes of death, and had Sorin not been standing next to her, she would have pulled that hood back and punched the girl in her face. Rage coiled around her insides, and she felt as if the sword hilt burned against her palm.
“Get out,” Scarlett said quietly. Her voice was icy and venomous and razor sharp all at once.
“You said you would come to me in two days’ time. It’s been two days,” Nuri answered, perching on the edge of the sofa. “What happened with Callan, Scarlett?” Scarlett staggered back a step at the name, and Sorin pressed a hand to her back to steady her. She could feel Nuri studying her underneath that damn hood. “I see. Gods, no wonder you look like a wraith right now.”
“Do not call me that,” Scarlett hissed, pointing the sword at Nuri. It was heavier than her own sword and was slightly awkward to hold, but she held it steady.
“That’s what we are, isn’t it?” Scarlett could hear the smirk on Nuri’s face. “But I suppose I did forget that’s what he calls you, too, hmm? His Wraith of Shadows.”
Scarlett lunged, but Nuri was just as fast as she blocked Scarlett’s sword. Again and again she swung, Nuri blocking her each time. She saw Cassius move to intervene, but the sound that emanated from Nuri froze him in place. “Do not come to her rescue, Cassius,” she panted, as she parried another attack from Scarlett.
“This is not the time for this, nor the place,” Cassius snarled back.
Nuri was striking back with such force now that Scarlett’s arm was shaking under the awkwardness of Sorin’s blade. “Come out, Scarlett,” she taunted with glee. “Come out to play.”
“I will kill you for making me do that,” Scarlett growled back.
“Not with that blade you won’t,” Nuri scoffed, lunging again.
Somehow she knew what he was doing without having to look at him. Scarlett reached behind her back and grabbed the dagger that Sorin was holding out to her. Sorin, who had been training her, and who had taught her how to fight with an off-balanced blade.
Then she did indeed come out to play.
S ORIN
She was a whirlwind of wrath and rage and steel as she pushed Nuri back and back and back in that spacious apartment. Cassius had fallen silent, and Sorin monitored everything from the side. He had sparred with her so many times, but he had never seen her move like this. She moved as if she had indeed been caged and confined, but was now freed to unleash hell. He could tell his sword had been hindering her, and before he could say her name, she had reached behind for his dagger that he had already had outstretched to her.
Nuri matched every movement, every thrust and lunge, like she knew exactly how Scarlett would move. Until she didn’t. Until Scarlett whirled fast enough and used a move he had taught her to land a clean kick to the woman’s chest. Nuri went sprawling to the floor, and Scarlett was atop her in an instant. Miraculously, the hood still covered her face, and her gloves remained intact. He still had not glimpsed the woman’s features. Scarlett yanked back the collar of the girl’s jacket and sliced a thin line down the entire length of the girl’s collarbone, right below a spirit amulet she wore. Blood trickled down the girl’s pale skin.
“Scarlett!” Cassius cried, lunging forward.
Sorin gripped his arm, but Cassius stopped cold as Death’s Shadow crooned with absurd laughter. “There you are. Welcome back, Sister.”
Scarlett brought her fist back and punched her hard in the face. Death’s Shadow merely laughed again from under that hood. “How dare you send me back there, Nuri! How could you do that to me? To him?”
Cassius sucked in a breath as the name crossed her lips. His wide eyes came to Sorin’s face, confirming he had in fact heard it. So Death’s Shadow indeed had a name.
“He became a distraction,” Nuri spat. “He distracted you, and it laid the groundwork for you to be shoved into a cage. They didn’t even have to shove you in. You stepped in willingly. When the time came, they just had to close the fucking door. I opened that door back up for you, but you stayed. You wouldn’t come out. Not until you took that first step two nights ago with Callan. And you tasted that freedom once more, you tasted him—”
“Stop!” Scarlett screamed.
But Nuri had twisted, and quicker than he could register it, Nuri had Scarlett pinned below her. This time, it was Cassius holding Sorin back. “Do not interfere with this,” Cassius murmured. “She will spill your blood in more ways than one.”
“I am not afraid of Death’s Shadow,” Sorin snarled.
“I am not the one you need to fear tonight, Fae Warrior,” came Nuri’s cunning voice from below that hood. “Death’s Maiden is before you, and my sister is ten times as terrible as I am.”
Sorin froze. Scarlett was Death’s Maiden? Scarlett was one of the Wraiths of Death? He looked to Cassius, who gave him an affirming nod.
Of the three Wraiths of Death, Death’s Maiden was the most feared. Death’s Shadow tracked you, and Death Incarnate ended you, but in between those two things, you dealt with Death’s Maiden. She was the one who executed whatever ministrations were included in the job. She was the one who bloodied you, the one who knew how to torture and keep you alive and conscious while she did so. They all knew how to do those things, he supposed, but that was her job in the trio. You begged for Death Incarnate by the end.
He looked down at Scarlett and recognized little in those eyes, but what he did recognize was purely Fae. Primal and wild and savage and lethal.
Nuri’s attention was back on Scarlett now. “ I let you out, Scarlett. I heard it in every note that flowed from your fingers tonight. I felt it as you breathed in that freedom. We need information, yes, but that was secondary to what I needed him to do to you . I needed you to feel .”
Without warning, Scarlett lunged with everything she had and flung Nuri off of her. Nuri went flying across the room. Scarlett snatched up her weapons, and Nuri barely had time to raise her own sword. She was fast enough to block the blow, but not fast enough to register the dagger that pierced her forearm. She screamed, and the smile that spread across Scarlett’s face was one of wicked delight.
“You let me out, Nuri, but who shall rein me back in?” Scarlett whispered quietly as she dug that dagger in a little deeper.
“That,” Nuri gasped out around the pain, “is why I made sure he was here first.”
Scarlett cocked her head in surprise, but her hand twisted the dagger in deeper. “Cassius cannot stop me.”
Nuri screamed again, and Sorin glanced at Cassius beside him. The color had drained from his face as he’d watched the exchange, clearly not knowing what to do.
“Do something,” Sorin said.
“She is right. I can’t. I’m not authorized to interfere with them,” he replied.
What the fuck did that mean?
“ Fae of fire ,” Nuri hissed from under that hood, and Sorin’s eyes snapped to that figure pinned to the floor. Her voice was unearthly, not mortal in the slightest.
Scarlett pushed on that dagger again, and the tang of Nuri’s blood filled his nose, her scent clinging to his nostrils. Moonlight and blood and snow. His eyes widened as more pieces clicked into place. “I tire of your riddles, Sister,” Scarlett said, her voice deadly calm.
Sorin shook off Cassius’s grip beside him and took a step forward. “Scarlett.” Her name was a command on his lips.
She dragged her gaze to him, and the smile on her face was so cruel his pulse quickened. “If memory serves me correctly, General ,” she sneered, “we are no longer training, nor are we in a training ring, so I suggest you stay the hell out of this.”
Sorin put his hands into his pockets and took another step towards them. She swore viciously at him.
“The string of profanities that comes from your mouth sometimes is truly astounding. Such vulgar words coming off the tongue of a Lady.”
Scarlett glared at him, her nostrils flaring. “How many times do I need to tell you, General? I am no Lady, and my tongue is still none of your concern.”
“Are you sure?” he asked with a tilt of his head. “I am sure I could find a much better use for it.” Scarlett’s eyes narrowed at him as he took another step closer. “No, you most certainly are not a Lady,” he said, crouching before her. “But it begs the question then, doesn’t it?”
“What question?” she snapped.
“Who are you?”
She blinked at him, and some of that cruelty seemed to vanish from her eyes. He reached out and eased her hand from the dagger hilt, her fingers freezing in his own. Her eyes seemed to clear as they focused on his. She studied him, then looked down at Nuri still beneath her.
She uncoiled to her feet, leaving the dagger in Nuri’s arm, pinning her to the floor. “I will send word when I hear from him. Until then, do not come near me. If something happens, send a messenger.”
She stepped over Nuri and walked across the room. Her hand on the door handle, she turned and looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Sorin’s. Smoke and ash seemed to swirl across her icy blue eyes. “Who is the woman?”
Sorin remained crouched by Nuri. He didn’t say a word.
“Then you can continue to stay the hell away from me, too. Maybe Death’s Shadow and a lying Fae bastard will find they have something in common.”
She opened the door and left, Cassius grabbing her cloak and following her out.
Their footsteps faded, and after a moment, Nuri hissed from beneath her hood, “You should really tell her. It would make everything so much easier.”
Sorin reached out and wrenched the dagger from her forearm. She cried out as it slid free from her arm, and he swore at the heat of the hilt. It was as though it had been sitting in a fire itself. Burning his palm, it clattered to the floor.
Nuri struggled to a sitting position beside him and before she could stop him, he ripped her hood back. A face as pale as moonlight with honey-colored eyes stared back, a wicked grin of ecstasy greeting him. “Show me,” he demanded.
“Whatever do you mean?” Nuri asked sweetly. She made to stand, but Sorin slammed his hand over the wound in her arm. She sucked in a breath of pain.
“Show me.” His voice was lethal.
Nuri glared at him, then grinned wide as fangs slid from their sheaths in her gums.
“Do they know?”
“Cassius and Scarlett?”
Sorin nodded.
“No. They know I am…something other like they suspect about themselves, but they do not know I am one of the Night Children,” she spat quietly.
“And how did one of the Night Children end up in the mortal lands, so far from her own?” Sorin asked, reaching for the dagger again. The hilt seemed to have cooled enough to handle, and he picked it up.
“How did any of the children of the Black Syndicate end up here?” she asked bitterly. “None of us know. We are just unwanted and discarded with nowhere else to go.”
“How did you know who I am? That I am from Fire Court? Did Scarlett tell you?” Sorin asked, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.
“She has told me nothing of you. I told you two nights ago, I am privy to much information you think no one here knows. What are you doing?”
She was watching him intently as he angled the dagger over his now bare forearm. “You are injured,” he said with a pointed glance to her arm. He sliced a line down it while she watched. Her eyes glazed over with hunger, her pupils dilating, as she watched the blood flow from the gash, and they flashed up to his as he held out his arm to her. “Drink. Heal. And then you have much to tell me, Daughter of Night.”
“Magic does not work here. You know that,” Nuri replied.
“Fae blood is different. You will see.”
She brought her hands to his arm. Then her fangs were in his flesh as she drank the blood from the gash he’d cut. He winced slightly when her fangs drove in farther, but his mind was not on the vampyre feeding from his arm. It was on the female who had just played ancient songs of grief and sorrow on his piano for nearly three hours. It was on the one who moved like someone trained not by thieves and assassins, but trained by a Night Child and a Fae warrior who fought like a Witch. It was on Scarlett as she had crooned, ‘ You let me out, but who shall rein me back in?’ And the vampyre’s words in response— ‘ That is why I made sure he was here.’