Chapter 19 Scarlett
CHAPTER 19
SCARLETT
J ust because she wasn’t training with Sorin didn’t mean Scarlett didn’t keep up with her own training. No, if she was going to start messing around with Callan and whatever was going on in the Black Syndicate again, she needed to be at the top of her game. Not to mention the Assassin Lord had sent another reminder to complete her task, or he would hold true to his word.
She forced herself to get up just as early and run. She made herself do strength exercises and pushed herself as if Sorin were there. She snuck down to the training barracks with Cassius often, and she decided to add archery to her training schedule. She was more than skilled with a bow, but it had been a while since she’d devoted any time to the craft. Her upper body strength had definitely improved, especially in her arms, so she wanted to become acquainted with a heavier bow.
Ideally, she would have practiced at the Fellowship, but she hadn’t had any desire to step foot in the Black Syndicate and risk running into the Assassin Lord. Not until she had completed her assignment. There were archery grounds out behind the manor though, so that was where she trudged. Several targets of varying sizes and distance adorned the space.
It was early evening, the sun just starting to set, a few weeks following that night in Sorin’s apartment. She was returning from retrieving the arrows she’d just shot with near perfect accuracy. The air was hot and muggy, as it always was at the end of summer. She was nearly back to the shooting line when she found him waiting for her. She came to a stop a few yards away, her hand going to her hip, glaring at him.
“What?” she demanded, irritation dripping in the word.
He studied her for a moment, eyes sweeping her from head to toe, assessing her. “You did not account for the incline on that final target,” he finally said.
“I did not ask for your critique,” Scarlett snapped, stomping the final few feet to him. She stopped inches from his face, and she could have sworn he sucked in a breath. His scent of ashes, cloves, and cedar wrapped around her, and she had to work to not inhale deeply as well. Something deep in her soul opened an eye. A feeling she hadn’t felt since that night she had played the piano. The awakening of something she hadn’t realized she’d been so desperate for.
She shoved those feelings, those thoughts, back down to the depths of her soul. They could keep her thoughts of Callan company.
“What are you doing here?” she asked now, glaring at Sorin. He was studying her, his face hard and contemplating. “I don’t have any treats on me today, General, so either speak or leave.”
“Are you ready to train again?” Sorin finally asked, looking down at her.
“I have been training.”
“Don’t be a smart ass,” he growled, irritation written across his face.
“Tell me who the woman is,” Scarlett retorted, her eyes fixed on his.
“It is not possible for it to be the same woman.”
Before she could register what she was doing, she reached up and slapped him hard across the face. “It is one thing not to tell me, but do not continue to lie to my face . ”
The momentary shock was quickly wiped from his face, as his bored, unreadable mask replaced it. “You seem different,” he said, eyeing her warily.
“Do I now?” she scoffed. “Different from what? Different from what you first watched in the training quarters? Different from the clever girl you’ve been training? Different from the swaggering wraith of shadows a young prince in the castle loves? Different from the untamed flame of wickedness that Nuri so carelessly unleashed a few weeks ago? There are so many options, aren’t there, General? So many different people I can be,” she purred. She had begun unwittingly circling him now, her eyes fixed on his.
“So many options,” he purred back, “but which one do you choose, Love?”
She stopped her prowling, going completely still. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “I don’t get choices like that.”
“No? You prefer to just let people push you and push you until they get the one they are looking for? You prefer to let them decide your fate?”
“Shut your fucking mouth. You know nothing of it,” Scarlett seethed, stepping towards him.
“Then tell me. Tell me why you play so many parts, Scarlett, when it would be so much less exhausting to play one. To just be you.”
“And you, General?” she asked, taking another step towards him. “How many parts do you play? You are a general here, for our king, but what are you to your own lands? Who are you in the Fire Court?” When he didn’t answer her, she said with a sneer, “That’s what I thought.” She brought the quiver that was strapped to her back over her head as she prepared to gather her things, stalking over to her items near the entrance of the archery range. “I am assuming,” she said, not bothering to look at him now, “you’ve seen Nuri’s face, so there is no secret to keep on her behalf at this point?”
“I have,” Sorin said cautiously.
“I am also going to assume, then, that you see her on a regular basis?”
“Why would you assume that?”
Scarlett turned to face him, a knowing smile on her lips. “Because I know my sister better than anyone, and Nuri finds you intriguing. She likes to play with things that she finds alluring. Since I am sure she makes it a point to grace your presence almost daily, especially if she hasn’t found her way to your bed yet, please deliver a message to her. Prince Callan has news, and we need to figure out a place and time to meet with him unnoticed.”
“I am not your messenger,” Sorin answered through gritted teeth.
“No,” Scarlett mused, “but you are Nuri’s favorite toy at the moment, so it saves me the time of having to track her down myself.”
Sorin bristled, but instead of retorting, he asked, “Are there not three of you?”
“What?”
“Wraiths of Death. Are there not three of you? You only ever speak of Nuri.”
She couldn’t breathe. Her heart squeezed in her chest. She couldn’t do anything as her fingers tightened around the bow in her hand. “No,” she managed to whisper, “not anymore.”
She turned to leave, but Sorin caught her by the elbow. “Start training with me again.” She could have sworn there was a hint of pleading in his voice.
“Who is the woman?”
She stilled as his eyes searched hers, and he said, “I am not your enemy, Scarlett.”
“Then stop acting like it,” she retorted.
Sorin dropped his hand from her elbow and took a step back as if she’d just slapped him again. She held his gaze with a glare. After a long moment of silence, he said quietly, “I need to return home soon.”
“I am not stopping you,” Scarlett responded, turning to leave again.
“My home , Scarlett.”
She paused as she realized what he meant. Not his apartment in Baylorin but where he came from three years ago. “And where exactly is your home , Sorin? Where exactly do you live in the Fire Court? What task did the woman send you on? Who is oppressing your people who depend on you? Who did you leave in charge?”
“You want me to answer all your questions when you will answer none of my own?” he challenged. “How did Death’s Maiden come to live with Lord Tyndell? Where is the third Wraith of Death? How did you come to find yourself in the Crown Prince’s bed? What happened a year ago? Who shoved you into a cage? What happened to your mother?”
Scarlett’s eyes widened as he flung question after question at her. “I told you what happened to my mother. She was murdered. The Prince of Fire is responsible for it. So you tell me, Sorin. You’re from the Fire Court. Where do you live there? What do you do there? Do you answer to that bastard? Or is he the one oppressing your people you are trying so valiantly to liberate? Where do your Fae allegiances lie?” When Sorin didn’t answer her, she rolled her eyes. “Oh good, more secrets. Just the way I like it. Before you go home, though, I’d love my book back that you took. You could at least give me the courtesy of letting me finish it since you can’t be bothered to answer any of my godsdamned questions yourself.”
“Cassius told you I am Fae.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course Cassius told me. We keep little from each other.”
“Because you are…close?”
“Be very careful with your next words, General,” Scarlett warned quietly.
Sorin ran his hands through his dark hair in frustration. “By Anala, Scarlett! I have trained hundreds of soldiers and dealt with dozens of rulers, and you are by far the most infuriating person I have ever met.”
“Who is the woman?” Scarlett demanded, her voice rising.
“I cannot tell you,” Sorin answered, his voice rising as well.
“Why not?” Scarlett was back in Sorin’s face, having thrown the items she held to the ground. Arrows fell from the quiver, rolling along the dirt. She felt the toes of her boots touch the toes of his. She could feel his breath on her face.
“Because I do not know what you are yet, and she will hunt you. The less you know, the easier it is for me to keep you safe from her,” Sorin spat.
“It is not your job to figure me out, and it is not your job to keep me safe,” Scarlett screamed.
“And whose job is it?” Sorin retorted, rage filling his features. “Cassius? Nuri? Mikale?”
“My own!” she screamed again. “Remember, Sorin? I’m all alone! It’s my own fucking job to keep myself safe.”
Suddenly Sorin’s hands were cupping her face, and his lips pressed to hers. They were warm and soft, and he tasted like cloves and honey. She brought her own hands up and buried them in his hair. It was not a gentle kiss as he forced her lips apart, and his tongue slid into her mouth. One of his hands slipped to her waist, pulling her against him while his other hand cupped the nape of her neck, holding her in place. His tongue tangled with her own as they fought for dominance.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “I am not Nuri’s plaything,” he said, his voice gruff and low.
At the words, her lips were back on his. So different from the touch and kiss of Callan. Sorin’s hands didn’t roam, but rather held her close, not afraid of losing her but to catch her if she fell. All her thoughts, all of her questions, flew from her mind as she relaxed into his hold, letting the feeling of his lips against hers encompass her wholly, letting him take control.
Scarlett pulled back this time, and she stared at him for a moment. She steadied her own ragged breathing, disentangling herself from him, then said quietly, “Go home, Sorin.”
“Scarlett,” he breathed, rooted to the spot.
“This is me keeping myself safe.”
She turned, stooped to pick up the spilled arrows, gathered her things, and walked back to the manor, not daring to glance back.