Chapter 14 #2
Dark and deep, like tumbling into a chasm of power that would suck her dry.
The fear and desire inside her tangled and danced, clawing at each other for dominance.
Ren’s mouth sucked at her jawline before slipping to cover her mouth.
He knew the moment she would make a sound.
He knew her. Her body, her mind, her impulses and weaknesses.
A feverish heat spread through her body, even as the temperature in the stairwell seemed to dip, raising goosebumps along her skin.
Ren pushed her higher, his hand slipping from her neck to palm her breast, squeezing tightly as he pressed his erection to her thigh, hot and needy, he was starting to lose control, but he was also on a mission, and when a stubborn stoneborn really set their mind to something, there was no knocking them off course.
He sipped from her quiet noises of bliss with too much eagerness: He needed her to break.
But apparently, he didn’t know her quite as well as they both thought, because she had changed. There was a sickness inside her now. A darkness that hadn’t been there before. A need for that chilling power that caressed her skin, a hunger for it that she didn’t understand.
She was so close. So cold. So hot. Burning and freezing.
She gripped his hand and dragged it back to her throat. His fingers closed around the slender column, and it was far too easy to imagine the slightest creak of leather gloves.
So close. Right there.
“Recruit.”
Her heart stopped. Ren froze. His breath hitched against her mouth, his fingers still buried inside her, now motionless.
Her entire body locked up tight, her orgasm ruined.
She had only heard Chasin use that voice, say that word, a couple of times, but it was already a familiar nightmare.
So quiet, so haunting, it felt like a blade resting flat against her neck.
Cold swept through her, drowning out the heat completely.
She began to tremble. Ren’s chest rose and fell in shallow, frantic jerks against hers.
“Commander,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse, strangled, like he had just been shot through the lung.
Now that she really paid attention, Eiko could feel Chasin standing at the top of the stairs the same way she could always sense when he was near, and she was bitterly disappointed in herself for not realising it sooner. All the warning signs had been there, but instead of listening, she had …
What had she been doing, exactly?
And what had he been doing?
Her throat worked beneath Ren’s unmoving hand, and she heard the slightest creak of leather again. Chasin was signing.
A heartbeat stretched, and Ren inhaled sharply and pulled his hand from her trousers with a shaking, shameful gentleness that made everything worse. His fingers brushed her thigh, her hip, her waist—one last line of heat—and then he released her completely and stepped back.
Whatever Chasin had signed to him must have been obvious enough for him to understand, as he didn’t ask any questions; he simply turned and walked down the stairs, leaving her alone without another word.
She heard the faint scrape of his boots on stone.
The trembling hush of him straightening his clothes.
The brittle humiliation in the way he swallowed.
She remained exactly where she was, too afraid to move, her breath too loud in her ears, growing even louder after Ren’s footsteps faded away.
Then … click. Chasin had snapped his fingers.
Either he was telling her to get moving, or he was summoning her.
She had no idea which, but since it was available for interpretation, she decided to choose the first option, and quickly bent to find her dropped cane, before hurrying up the last few stairs and attempting to dash back to her room.
A gloved hand closed around her wrist before she could pass, and Hymn darted back into her mind in a frenzy, sensing Chasin’s touch immediately.
What happened? He danced and whirled around her ribcage anxiously.
Nothing I can discuss with a baby.
I’m not a baby!
What is the prince doing? she asked, as Chasin released her wrist.
Setting a bell piece, Hymn replied.
Eiko frowned. What?
It’s a small device with coiled springs and pressure catches. It ticks until time runs out, and then a latch snaps free, striking a bell sound inside the casing—
I know what a bell piece is, I meant why?
Even as she asked the question, she felt herself suddenly inundated with possibilities of all the torture he could put her through until the bell piece ran out of time, but instead of dragging her off to the arena to walk over hot coals or something equally punishing, he simply pushed the bell piece into her hand and stalked off.
He opened and closed the first door by the staircase, only a few paces away.
Oh, shit. Holy, shitting sun. She had almost had sex with Ren right outside her commander’s bedroom.
You did what? Hymn yelped.
I said “almost!” Can you really disappear into the Quiet?
Yes.
Is that dangerous for you?
Only if they know where I am.
Who?
Anyone who has touched me, he replied.
What do you mean? She crept back to her room, the little bell piece ticking in her palm.
Monsters can feel and sense each other, but like I said before, they can only truly see or recognise each other by touch.
Ever since my power came in—the day you rescued me—anyone who touched me immediately wanted to kill me.
Nobody here has touched me, and I keep my distance in the Quiet. I think they still sense me, though.
She made sure her door was locked before slumping onto her bed, the bell piece placed on her bedside as she struggled out of her boots and uniform.
What about Chasin’s monster? she asked. You said he wanted to kill you. It seemed like he managed to touch you when Chasin grabbed me after I came out of the Quiet.
It was so brief, Hymn sounded mournful, but yes, I think we touched. And now he’s desperate to hunt me—but he doesn’t live inside the Quiet. He lives in Chasin. They’re merged more tightly than other Silenced pairs. Almost like they’re just one person.
She frowned, her fingers pausing in their bid to distractingly smooth her bedsheets over her chest as she forced herself to lie flat in the bed instead of nervously pacing across the room.
You mean … they might share the same instincts? She couldn’t stop thinking about the gloved hand wrapping her throat, or the colour of annoyance at the nape of his neck when he was forced to save her life from Ron’s exploding monster.
She had thought that Chasin had simply decided to hate her, but what if it was more than that?
What if the commander was more monster than man?
What if he wanted to kill her?
It’s possible, Hymn agreed. There are many mysteries and puzzles to be solved with Silencing, since it’s different for each person. Maybe theirs is wrong, like ours.
An image of his lace flashed into her mind: the dark lines travelling thickly up to his elbows. Different to everyone else … except hers.
She swallowed tightly, turning to her side and burrowing her face into the pillow.
She didn’t like this line of thought, because whatever it meant for Chasin … it meant the same for her. She knew everyone was wrong about her monster, but still …
There was the possibility.
Horrific and dangerous, too sickening for her to open her mind and give the thought any space, but it was there, teasing the very edges of her brain.
City-swallower. That’s what Alessandra had apparently called Hymn.
But no, it wasn’t possible. Not for Hymn, and not for her.
She was a good person. Most of the time.
Except for when she was sleeping with her brother’s best friend—and that one time she almost slept with her brother’s best friend in a stairwell a few feet from her commander’s bedroom while encouraging him to choke her out.
Excuse me? Hymn yelped in horror.
That was a private thought.
She burrowed her face even deeper into the pillow, muting the soft tick tick of the bell piece, until paranoia that she would sleep through the chime of the bell broke through, and she curled onto her other side, moodily fluffing her pillow and scurrying to the very edge of the bed, planting her face as close to the bell piece as possible.
What do you think is going to happen when it goes off? she asked Hymn, as her heavy eyelids drifted shut.
Hopefully it’s just a summons, he replied. Maybe he thought it was an inappropriate time to speak to you, and this was his way of calling you to his office in the morning.
Her blood curdled, and it was with that prospect that she fell asleep, riddled with anxiety.