Chapter 40 Vera
Vera
All this time, it never occurred to me to question where that dratted list had come from.
I’d only been worried about destroying it and ensuring the men wouldn’t get the names from me.
I thought it would end here, with me. That if I held my secrets close, they’d stay hidden.
It was foolish. Was it one of the Tulips?
A betrayal? There were only seven names.
I don’t realize how heavy my strokes are until Rupi squirms beneath my hand.
I lift it to release her, and she affectionately pecks my hand before fluttering into Darvy’s lap to observe him sketching her wing.
My thoughts return to the list, considering each of the women who appear so scared at every annual meeting—it just doesn’t sit right.
None of them seems the traitor type. Someone else, then. But who?
Blood rushes in my ears, and I know I need space.
I stand and offer a murmured excuse for needed privacy.
Ikar watches me like a hawk as I step into the forest shadows.
I start out walking until I’m far enough away, then for a few moments, I run gracelessly through the trees, tripping over large roots and rocks until I finally stumble to a fallen tree and practically curl in on myself, holding my head in my hands and rocking back and forth in an attempt to contain my panic and emotion.
What do I do?
I’d hoped if I tied this job up nice and tidy, I could leave this all behind and pretend it didn’t happen. I could simply hide behind my bracelet like I always have. I was going to fix it.
“Vera?” Ikar calls from somewhere behind me, his steps so intentionally noisy that I know he’s being courteous of my privacy, even though I felt the pull of magic strengthen between us before I heard him approach.
I jump up, roll my shoulders back, brush stray hairs away from my face, contain my magic, and attempt a stony expression. Someone else out there knows about the Tulips, but I certainly won’t be making his job of finding one any easier.
I tip my chin in the air, hoping the motion gives me more confidence than I feel. “Yes?”
He takes that as permission to close the last several feet between us, appearing as a panther in the dim moonlight. Stalking like a predator. Half his features are draped in shadow from the angle we stand, and it’s difficult to gauge what he’s thinking with his eyes veiled in darkness.
I gather a bit of lucent in my hand, just enough to illuminate his face, and I spot Rupi in the shadows near his ear looking as dark as a white ball of fluff can. Suspicion fairly oozes from him, and the line of his brows is hard. My light flickers a bit.
His next words are unexpected, and a hint of sincere concern appears in his eyes. “Are you well?”
I frown, caught off guard. “I’m fine.” As fine as a woman can be in circumstances such as these, I suppose.
“It’s just… you’ve looked pale—”
“Did you need something?” I realize immediately it was the wrong thing to ask.
He looks at me for a long moment, his lips tilting into a dangerous half-smile, as if deciding the blunt change of direction in our conversation is acceptable.
“Yes. Actually, I do.” His voice is low and silky, tempting me to tell him whatever he wants.
“I need to know what you know about the Tulips.”
He saunters forward until we’re a breath apart and looks down at me, holding my gaze. He says it so easily, so directly, as if the Black Tulips haven’t worked so hard to keep themselves hidden for centuries now and suddenly our secret has busted out into the open.
“I can’t help you.”
I expect him to ask why, so I begin formulating an appropriate response. Instead, his next question yanks the air from my lungs in one fell swoop.
“I’ve wondered why you care so much, why you refuse to trust me… why you fear me,” he muses, and lets that comment linger a moment, lets my heart rate rise torturously until I fear it’s going to stop completely.
When I don’t respond, he continues. “You know one of them, don’t you? You mentioned a best friend, but you hardly speak of her. You hope to protect her from me. You’re terrified I’ll find out where she is.” His voice is rough now. Accusatory. Assuming.
And sorta right, if I’m being honest.
He stands too close, and I slowly wipe my sweaty palms along my trousers, grappling for words.
“You think I’m a monster,” he says darkly, fitting the description he paints of himself.
My heart beats like the hooves of a hundred racing horses. If I felt panic before, it’s nothing compared to this. His guesses are growing too accurate. My breath is shaky, and I hate that he can hear it. And I hate that the only way to throw him off our scent is to hurt him. Oh, how I hate to lie.
I gather every ounce of frustration and fear and panic to force anger to ring true in my voice.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.
You want to know what I really think?” I don’t wait for him to answer; I forge ahead with sharp spite in my voice.
“You are so desperate for the Black Tulips to be real, to believe that you can be the hero, that you have imagined things about me that are wrong to give you a twisted sense of hope. This is all pointless. There’s nothing you can do. ”
I feel immediate flames of hot guilt. We stand so still I can’t even see his chest move with breath.
He doesn’t speak, but I glimpse hurt in his eyes for half a second before it’s gone.
Whatever there was between us extinguishes as quickly as I snuff out the light in my hand, dousing us in darkness.
I begin to walk around him.
“Have you ever trusted anyone in your life?” His voice comes out cold and hard from behind me.
I hesitate. I want to shout that I’ve trusted Tatania all this time, but have I? What about Mama Tina? My Tulip sisters? Renna? I don’t trust any of them with my life, or my deepest secrets, but is that their fault… or mine?
“Thought so. At least it’s not just me.” He turns and brushes past me, leaving me in the dark with a gaping hole in my heart.