Chapter Thirteen
I want to laugh. The idea that Caden’s suggesting is absurd. It can’t be. I’m just an ordinary girl. There’s nothing special or remarkable about me. Nothing at all.
But the laughter gets caught in my throat. What if he’s right? I felt something when he kissed Sasha, and it definitely wasn’t jealousy.
Well, not just jealousy.
“Your mother was one of us,” Caden says softly.
He looks at me like he expects me to lose it at any moment, that I’ll start screaming or crying. But even if I felt the urge, I couldn’t. I’m frozen. It’s so surreal. Like I’m watching myself through a veil.
“She was a sin mage?” I repeat slowly. “How do you know that?”
“I did some research. Apparently, she lived in the East End for many years, until she had you. Your father was human. She must have hoped your powers would never manifest if she gave you away and you grew up far from our kind.”
It sounds logical, yet I find it hard to believe. What mother would give away her own child?
My foster mother condemns sin mages. Under her roof I grew up strictly virtuous. Even the smallest of sins was punished with food deprivation. Once she caught me reading an old romance novel that one of my friends from school had found in her parents’ attic and given to me. As punishment for my unchaste thoughts, I was locked in the dark pantry for a whole day. I wonder what Lady Rose would say if she were here now. If she learned what I was.
I stare at my hands, unable to comprehend what Caden just said.
“So my mother wasn’t murdered by sin mages?”
He shakes his head, his gray-blue eyes full of compassion. “She gave birth to you and left the country a little later. A close friend arranged for you to go to a foster mother in the countryside.”
“And my father?”
Caden shrugs. “I couldn’t find out anything about him.”
Because he was a nobody. Not like my mother, who passed on this hideous gift to me.
I’m a sin mage. I feed on other people’s sin. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. I have become what I fear most.
“It’s going to be okay,” Caden says softly. “You’ll learn to control it.”
He starts to reach out as if to put his hand on mine but stops when I recoil.
“Trust me, once you accept it, it will be freeing.”
But I don’t want to accept it. I’ve seen enough of Caden’s world to know that I want no part of it.
I jump to my feet. The broken glass crunches under my shoes, but I pay it no mind. I just want to get away from here. The best thing I can do is put as much distance as I can between Caden and me. Being around him makes me feel like I can’t breathe.
Caden straightens up as well.
“Kaya,” he begins, but I push him away.
Panic spreads through me. My legs tremble as I walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Caden asks.
“Home.”
I can’t stay here. And I can’t go back to the palace either. If the king finds out what I am… I just want to go back to my apartment, crawl under the covers and pretend none of this ever happened. Can’t I just go back to my old life? For the past nineteen years, no one even suspected what I was—until Caden came along.
Dazed, I walk down the hallway, having to hold onto the wall to keep from collapsing. The sun’s blinding when I step outside. I glance back over my shoulder to see if Caden followed me out of the living room, but I’m alone. Maybe he can sense that I need time to process all this.
The limousine is still parked in front of the villa. Caden’s chauffeur Rey is leaning against the car door. She looks up when I take another shaky step.
“Do you want me to take you somewhere, Miss Ashton?”
Doesn’t she need Caden’s permission to do that?
I approach, unsure of what to do. It’s too far to walk back to my apartment. It would take me at least an hour.
“Are you allowed to do that?” I ask.
She laughs, seemingly unconcerned. “Of course. Caden can call a cab if he’s needed somewhere.”
“All right, then.”
Once more I look at the empty hallway behind me, then close the door and head down the steps.
I’ll just pretend none of this ever happened, I tell myself as I get into the limo. Everything will right itself.
The divider is down, and Rey looks in the rearview mirror as we drive off, scrutinizing me with her mismatched eyes.
“So he told you,” she says.
“What?”
I’m so out of it, I can barely focus on our conversation.
“Who your mother was and what powers she passed on to you.”
“You know?”
Suddenly I feel terribly stupid. Caden, Sasha, Rey—they all seem to know more about me than I do about myself. How could I have been so in the dark? I should have realized something was wrong with me.
“This must come as a shock to you, Miss Ashton,” Rey says gently.
She steers the limo onto a narrow street and curses softly as the light in front of us turns red.
I snort. “That’s an understatement.”
Rey turns to me and gives me a long, thoughtful look. “Believe me, Caden wanted to tell you earlier. He just didn’t know how.”
Earlier?
I frown.
“How long has he known about this?” I ask, but Rey merely shrugs.
“He’s a good man,” she says, as if that answered my question.
“He’s a sin mage.”
I bite my tongue, wishing I had the presence of mind to keep the words from slipping out, given the fact that Rey is probably a sin mage herself. Just like me. The amused look she gives me in the rearview mirror seems to convey just that.
The traffic light turns to green, and we drive on. In the gaps between the buildings, I catch glimpses of the Thames, the sunlight glinting on the water.
“We’re not all bad,” Rey says after a while. “Some of us just want to live in peace. But unfortunately, there are also sin mages like Jared, who think they’re above the law.”
“Aren’t you all? Above the law, I mean.”
Aren’t we all, I should say. But the idea of being one of them terrifies me.
Rey tilts her head.
“Yes and no. The East End is outside the King’s jurisdiction, but we have our own rules. Like, stay away from the West End. Never feed on a sinner without their permission. Don’t get a willing victim into trouble. Never challenge another sinner’s claim on a victim. Caden enforces these rules, but it’s not always easy. There are simply too many sin mages who insist on the law of the strongest and who are unwilling to abide by the rules. But a society without rules just doesn’t work.”
My head is spinning. With every sentence Rey utters, a thousand more questions spring to mind, but I keep them to myself. I don’t want to know any more about her world, and I want to be a part of it even less.
For the rest of the drive, I close my eyes and pretend to doze off. I’m sure Rey could be a well of information, and she seems more than willing to share her knowledge with me. But I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Preferably never.
Later, Ava finds me on the sofa, curled up in a blanket with Tinkerbell on my lap. I’ve used the last few hours to escape into a historical novel about the old England. When she sinks down on the cushions next to me, I put it aside.
“You’re still here,” she notes. “Isn’t there a secret mission waiting for you at the palace?”
“Not one I want to be a part of.”
I sent a message to Ophelia to thank her for her hospitality and to let her know that I would no longer be needing it. Hopefully the message will satisfy her, and she won’t show up here. It’s bad enough that Caden’s limo has taken up position in front of my house. Apparently, Rey also functions as a bodyguard of sorts, making sure I don’t get any unwanted visits from Caden’s enemies.
I’m exhausted. I rub my eyes—they burn and are swollen from all the crying. Ava must have noticed by now. She looks like she wants to give me a hug but doesn’t dare.
“Did that sin mage do something to you?” she asks.
“No.”
He didn’t do anything except confront me with the truth. Maybe I shouldn’t have just left like that. But I was in shock and confused. Still am.
“I learned something about my mother,” I tell Ava. “She wasn’t murdered. She… she gave me away.”
Ava gives me a sympathetic look, making me feel bad for only telling her part of the truth. Now she does move closer, and wraps her arms around me. A mewing Tinkerbell jumps off my lap in protest.
“She doesn’t deserve you,” Ava whispers into my hair. “Trust me, if she didn’t want you, you’re better off without her.”
“You’re probably right,” I mutter, but I feel uneasy.
My mother gave me away because she didn’t want me to become like her. A sin mage. Can I really blame her for that?
Ava carefully disentangles herself from my arms.
“Hey, I might have something to cheer you up.”
She gets up from the sofa and walks over to her bag, which she carelessly dropped next to the coat rack when she got home. There is a rustling sound, then Ava triumphantly holds up a colorful bag.
“These things are called taffies. Elias got them for me on the black market.”
Elias is one of the guys Ava knows from the illegal parties. I’ve advised her before to stay away from them. They’re going to get her in trouble someday. Thinking about it now, I’m probably the wrong person to be giving that kind of advice.
“They must be old,” I state with a sniff. “They haven’t made anything like this in ages.”
Ava shrugs.
“Elias says these things can’t go bad.”
She tears open the bag and takes out a caramel piece, eyeing it from all sides before shoving it into her mouth.
I can savor the sweetness without having tasted it myself. It’s almost unbearable—and unbearably good at the same time. My tongue prickles, and Ava moans.
“Oh my god, this is so good!”
Wait! Am I feeding on her right now?
Damn it!
Frantic, I jump up from the sofa but have to hold on to the backrest because I feel dizzy again. For a moment, black dots dance before my eyes.
“Is everything all right?” Ava asks, already reaching for the next taffy and stuffing it into her mouth.
The sweetness is so pungent it makes me sick to my stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
My excuse is flimsy and my voice sounds pressed, but Ava doesn’t notice. She’s completely focused on the taffy. I’m to blame for what she’s doing. And I can’t make it stop.
Once I’m in my room, I lock the door behind me. The stale taste of the taffy is still on my tongue, but it’s not quite as strong anymore. The dizziness is starting to subside. I can only hope that my hold on Ava has also worn off and she’ll stop eating.
I throw myself onto my bed and pull the covers over my head. Hot tears run down my cheeks. I’m so sick of crying. I’m sick of feeling helpless. But I can’t help it.
At some point, the knob on my bedroom door turns. It’s Ava. She rattles it.
“What the hell is going on, Kaya?” I hear her ask through the closed door.
I can’t tell her. Ava may be open-minded, but even she wouldn’t want to live under the same roof as a sin mage.
“Kaya?”
I don’t answer, shutting my eyes tightly, pretending to sleep, wishing she’d give up and leave.
My pillow is wet from my tears as I wake at dawn. I listen for any noise, trying to gauge whether Ava is already awake, which doesn’t seem to be the case. I can’t hear the familiar sounds of the shower or clattering dishes of Ava making her morning porridge.
Sleepy-eyed, I get up and plod on bare feet to my wardrobe. I’m going back to the library today. If I call in sick for too long, Mrs.Byron will get suspicious, and I’d run the risk of getting a bad diligence rating or even losing my job. Besides, maybe I’ll find a clue on how to control my powers in one of the books there.
I put on a long, high-necked dress and a cardigan over it. It’s much too warm for this outfit, but under the many layers of fabric I feel a little safer. Which is ironic, seeing how it’s me who is a danger to everyone around me.
I go for a quick wash in the bathroom and put my hair up into a tight bun before tiptoeing out of the house. There’s no way I want to risk an encounter with Ava. She’d only ask questions about last night. Questions I don’t want to answer.
Tinkerbell is already waiting for me in the hallway, mewling, but I just give her a sad smile.
“Ava will take care of you, sweetness.”
She rubs against my legs and purrs before running into the kitchen. I use that moment to sneak outside.
Caden’s limo is still parked outside my front door. Apparently, Rey has been watching over me all night. As I start to walk, the dark car follows me. I’m already a little annoyed. What if someone notices I’m being followed? What should I tell them? That this is my personal bodyguard who follows me everywhere I go?
I stop, step out into the street, and knock on the black-tinted window of the sedan. The window opens agonizingly slowly, then Rey grins at me.
“Good morning, Miss Ashton. Can I drop you off somewhere? Perhaps at the home of a certain sin mage?”
“I have to get to work. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t follow me around everywhere.”
“Well, you see, I would prefer to drive a red Ferrari, but the king would probably condemn such a display of wealth.”
A red Ferrari? I shake my head, uncomprehending. Rey shrugs.
“What I’m saying, Miss Ashton, is that we don’t always get what we wish for.”
I sigh.
“Can you at least do it a little more inconspicuously? I don’t want to have to explain to my boss why I’m in need of an escort all of a sudden.”
The window of the limousine is raised again until all I see is my own reflection, tired and disgruntled.
I will get through this day, I tell myself. And the next, and the one after that. At some point, my life will return to normal.
It just has to.
Mrs. Byron eyes me critically, as if she’s afraid I’m bringing some dangerous disease into the library.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Byron. I’m sure.”
The dark circles under my eyes tell a different story. They’re probably also why Mrs.Byron sends me down to the archives, even though there are books in the reading room that need rearranging. I’m not angry about it. At least it gives me time to look for information about my powers.
It’s not easy to find the right books. There is one by a priest who warns in great detail against sin and its consequences, and I also find several papers on the riots, but nothing that actually helps me. What did I expect, a handbook for newly minted sin mages? Sin Magic for Dummies, Part One—How to Control Your Powers and Thereby Prevent Your Roommate from Eating Herself to Death with Taffy.
Not likely.
With an annoyed sigh, I put the books about the riots back on the shelf. By now, it’s lunchtime. My stomach growls. I haven’t packed myself anything to eat, but I decide to go up to the bay window room anyway and join the other readers. At least this way I still get some daylight, even if I feel like one of those creatures who should rather hide in the dark.
Upstairs, I hear Mrs. Byron trying to placate a customer.
“Please, moderate yourself.”
I’m still wondering what’s going on when rage sweeps over me like an all-consuming wave. It tastes bitter, and I have to cough while clinging to the banister. The ground suddenly seems awfully far away. Everything is spinning.
Not again. Please, not again.
“This book is an affront. Explain yourself,” scolds a voice I’m sure I’ve heard before.
“Sir!”
Mrs. Byron sounds both indignant and concerned. I take a few steps forward, only to see her with the short, stout man who was complaining about Jane Austen’s Emma a few days ago. Now he’s waving a copy of Jane Eyre around while glaring at the librarian.
“Have you read this? A love story between an orphan and an estate owner. Such filth!”
The man’s anger brings me to my knees. I can feel it growing, fueled by my uncontrolled powers, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. If I don’t get out of here soon, I might have to spend the next few hours scrubbing the library’s carpet. But that’s probably not even the worst part. The customer is seething.
I raise my head with difficulty and watch him stomp his foot. Mrs.Byron’s back is to me, but I see her flinch. Neither of them has noticed me so far.
“Please, sir, you need to calm down,” the librarian says.
The man’s eyes widen.
“Calm down? You want me to calm down? Like hell I will, as long as this trash is on your shelves. All this stuff needs to be burned. And you… you…” He points a gloved finger at Mrs. Byron, threateningly.
“Sir, I must ask you to leave the library. Otherwise, I will be forced to call the Guard.”
“Yes, call them, you old witch. I’ll tell them what you’ve been doing here and how you tried to get my poor daughter to sin.”
The man tears his copy of Jane Eyre in half and throws it on the floor. The sound of the tearing paper feels like a blow to my heart. Mrs.Byron makes a small, startled sound.
I need to get out of here. If I don’t, the man won’t calm down, and who knows what he’ll do next. As I laboriously get to my feet, he pulls one book after another from the shelf. Pages fly through the air, papers and books raining down around Mrs.Byron. One of the bookshelves sways dangerously.
I stagger, crashing into the counter in the entryway and knocking down one of the desk lamps. The noise sends Mrs.Byron spinning around to look at me, and I’m sure she guesses my secret. She has to. Because there can only be one explanation for this commotion. The man’s anger is intensified.
By a sin mage.