Chapter 20 Skylar #3
“So, what, you want the Blooded to train to fight, so that the Bloodless are protected if the witches invade? Is that it? Or are you planning to invade the witches yourselves?” Why, she wants to ask—why bother conscripting at all?
“That,” he says, now with his usual stiffness, “is above your pay grade.”
Skylar snorts as she starts walking again, turning left, into a darker alley. “Surely if I win, everything will be within my pay grade. I could fire you, for instance.” She’s only half serious—because it’s highly unlikely she will win.
“You could certainly try.” A touch of dryness to his voice—preferable to the usual snark.
The smell of rotting fruit, and something else, fills the dark, hot alley.
She hears footsteps up ahead. Low, controlled breathing.
The back of her neck prickles, and she feels Axel tense, just a little, beside her.
It’s enough to snap her senses into full alert.
Enough that she hears it, above the distant hum of the city.
The sound of a string, being pulled tight.
She reacts before she even knows what she’s reacting to. She moves, shoving Axel against the side of the nearest building, out of the way of the arrow that shoots past them.
The man who fired it comes into view. His face is hidden in the dark, but she doesn’t need to see it to know his intention when he pulls the bowstring back again. Axel shoves her to one side, steps out in front of her. The man freezes. Then bolts.
She wonders what reputation Axel has to make him give up that easily.
“Stop!” Axel shouts after the would-be assassin. There’s the sound of a commotion somewhere at the end of the alley, people scrabbling out of the way. “I’m going after him,” Axel says to Skylar.
“Great, I’m right behind you.”
“No, you’re not.” She’s already moving past him, ready to disobey. He grabs her wrist. “Like it or not, you’re too important to get hurt. Stay. Hide. Do not die.” With that, he runs. She’s not seen him really move before and has a moment to appreciate how graceful he is.
She considers doing what she’s told for about half a second. But she’s not the hiding sort.
She’s about halfway to the main street when she hears something behind her—and turns to see the assassin in midair. In the actual air, as high as the roof of the nearest building. The guy’s a fucking Levitator. And a powerful one at that, if he’s jumped from the other side of the alley.
She catches a glimpse of his face as he hovers in the air. He’s missing an eye, and part of his throat looks torn out. But he’s wearing a grim smile. “I knew he’d do that.”
Axel. He lured Axel away—to get to her. She’s backing away, groping at her sides for daggers she doesn’t have, a pin that’s not there. She’s defenseless—and he can move quicker than her.
Adrenaline courses, a crackling rising within her, searing her veins. But her mind is blank—she’s got nothing.
You’ve got you, Lar.
He’s right. She’s got her. She feels pressure build in her temples as the Levitator flies toward her. She darts out of reach, but he’s already twisting in midair, aiming another arrow for her.
He lets it loose before she has time to catch her breath and she knows, in an instant of clarity, that it’s going to hit her. And that there’s nothing she can do about it.
But it doesn’t come—the pierce of pain. In the instant before it hits her, the arrow splits into hundreds of pieces, as shadows, denser than the night air, surround them.
The Levitator is on the ground. His one remaining eye is wide, his mouth parted as if screaming. But he makes no move to get up. No move to aim at her again. It’s like he doesn’t even know she’s there.
Skylar’s heart races, sweat pricks her palms. She hears slow, even footsteps.
And turns to see a man stepping out of the shadows.
His face is obscured, but she can see eyes that look black in the moonslight and dark brown hair, a shade darker than his skin.
His attention is wholly on her, and her entire body prickles with awareness.
He moves closer to her. She knows she should run.
Her instincts are screaming at her, telling her that this man is far more dangerous than the Levitator.
But there is nowhere to run. She can’t even see through the shadows coiling around her, and she can’t think through a weird pressure on her mind—like there is another presence, probing for something.
What kind of power does he have, to do that? And what, exactly, is he looking for?
He takes another step toward her, eyes on her face.
She wonders if he’s going to kill her.
Nowhere left to run, girl.
Not the same. This isn’t the same, Skylar. But can’t quite make her body believe it. The crackling within her builds, like static buzzing on her skin.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” His accent is unfamiliar, more sensual than any she’s heard before.
She swallows. “Oh, were you looking for someone else? I’ll just be on my way, then.” The swagger is lost slightly because of the shake in her voice.
She tries to move, but the shadows tighten, holding her in place. He shouldn’t be able to do this. Controlling shadows is not a Blooded power—only dragons should be able to do that.
The man’s eyes glint in the dark. “What are you?”
She tries to think, to breathe. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re not Blooded. So what are you?”
You are not Blooded, Skylar.
She stares at him. It’s what she’s been told, her whole life. But this man—he can’t know, can he?
There is the sound of running, someone coming back their way. The stranger glances over her shoulder. Skylar turns—and she never thought she’d feel relief at the sight of Axel coming into view.
The shadows lift as Axel runs toward her, almost like they were never there. And when Skylar turns back, it’s like the stranger was never there, either. Only the Levitator is left, curled up on the red clay ground.
Axel looks at the Levitator. “What did you do to him?”
Skylar’s breath comes out on a whoosh. She’s okay. Somehow, she is okay. “I didn’t do anything,” she says. “Some guy appeared out of nowhere and decided to give me a hand.” Her heart is still racing, adrenaline still coursing. When she lifts her hand to push back her hair, it’s shaking.
“Some guy? Who?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” He has to be someone powerfully Blooded, to disappear like that. A Reader and a Shadow Wielder—is that even possible?
Axel is staring at her. At his sides, his hands flex into fists. “Are you… alright?”
“Yes.” She thinks she is, anyway. She has no idea what happened—but she isn’t dead, and that’s a start. Axel glances to the Levitator, still curled into a ball, then back to her. He’s reluctant to move away from her, she realizes. Is he… worried about her?
“I’m fine,” she says. “Honestly.”
He gives a curt nod and crosses to the assassin, who looks up.
He opens his mouth, but words don’t come out.
Instead, his jaw goes slack, a lazy smile replacing the panic.
Fucking Vaar, that is creepy. She knows what Axel is doing—messing with his emotions, making him think everything is fine when it’s definitely not. Making it so he doesn’t resist at all.
Skylar represses the shudder.
“Come on,” Axel says. “We’d better get him to the castle.”
Where he’ll be executed, no doubt. She wonders if they’ll bother to try him first. She wonders why she cares.
Axel bends down to haul the Levitator to his feet. Then he hesitates, glancing back at her. He reaches for his pocket, draws something out. “Here.” He holds it out to her. Her pin.
She takes it slowly, feeling something settle, at being reunited with it. Alarmingly, she feels her throat close, though she swallows the emotion down. “What’s this for?” Her voice is huskier than she’d like.
She thinks she sees a brief softening in his gaze, before it’s chased away by the night. “For proving you’re not such a liability.”