Chapter Eighteen
Mia
That was a very good question.
My footsteps slowed as I rounded the corner, while behind me, the front door shook under thunderous knocking.
Whoever was out there, they were pissed.
There was a difference between angry knocking and urgent knocking.
Both could be loud, but if someone out there were in an emergency, the knocks would be coming faster.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned on my toes, slowly creeping back toward the corner junction of hallways. I should probably have been looking for Ty, as Tor had ordered, but I was tired of all the mysteries. I had to know more about what the hell was going on around the house.
I crouched down low and peered around the corner timidly, steeling myself for Tor to be looking right at me. But he wasn’t. His focus was on the door as he reached for the handle. His shoulders were upright, and his entire posture screamed stiffness.
He doesn’t want to answer the door. Whoever it is, he doesn’t want to face them.
I stayed hidden under the shelf-table unit thing, trying to ignore all the dust I’d yet to clean. That wasn’t important right then.
The door leaped in its frame as the person outside hammered on it even harder than before.
Tor sighed and pulled the door open wide to reveal a tall woman with a tightly pulled-back high ponytail that kept her dark brown hair out of her face.
She was slim and wore a long black coat that fell past her knees, unbuttoned in the front.
Eyes as bright as Tor’s shone out from under a thick set of lashes as she stared up her sharp nose at him.
Something was vaguely familiar about the woman, from the angle of her jaw to the set of her eyes as she stared at Tor. I couldn’t place it, but I knew it would click at some point.
She walked into the house with two long, powerful strides, exuding nothing but disdain for Tor, who was still taller than her by a hand or so. That didn’t seem to faze the mystery woman in the slightest. Whoever she was, she meant business, and she was not happy.
Who could she be? A scorned ex-lover, perhaps? Or maybe a current lover?
Shit. Of course, someone like him would have a lover on the go.
Why wouldn’t he? He’s more than attractive enough to get whomever he wants.
He probably has several other women he keeps ready for whatever mood strikes him.
This one has dominatrix written all over her. Wouldn’t have pegged him for that type.
Pegged. Ha. Sometimes I amused myself. I smothered a snicker as I watched the confrontation, wondering if perhaps I should stand up and tell the woman that Tor was using her. After all, I’d kissed him. And he’d kissed me. All over. She deserved to know he wasn’t faithful.
I tensed the muscles in my legs, ready to shoot up and reveal Tor’s infidelity when she spoke.
“Hello, brother,” she said, uttering the last word with such disrespect I felt it in my chest. The hatred dripping from her words was palpable even from a distance. “Long time no see.”
Brother?
“Not long enough,” Tor growled back, not giving an inch to her. “What are you doing here?”
Despite her attitude and bold entrance, he wasn’t scared, nor was he amused. He’d already had enough of her, and truthfully, I didn’t blame him. She wasn’t exactly exuding friendship and rainbows.
His sister lifted a finger and tut-tutted him. “The better question, dear brother, is, what are you doing here?”
Tor pulled himself up to his full height. Like before, his eyes seemed to glow as they caught the light. “This is my house,” he snarled.
The woman reached up and wound some of her pin-straight hair around a finger, feigning surprise. “Oh, is dear old daddy finally gone? Called to the God-King and all that?”
God-King? That was a new way to refer to him. What religion was that from, I wondered.
“Yes,” Tor rumbled. “Several months ago.”
“Ah, so sad,” she said, shrugging with all the emotion of a doorknob.
I was missing a lot of the context. Why was she so surprised to see her brother?
And how had his sister, of all people, not been informed of their father’s passing?
It didn’t make sense. Someone would have told her, even if she didn’t seem overly concerned about her family’s well-being. Wouldn’t they?
“It was expected,” Tor said.
“Yes, yes, of course, I know the rules. I guess I just lost track of time out here. So very easy to do.” She sniffed. “Now that he’s gone, I assume I shall be welcomed back?”
Tor barked laughter, the sharp, short peal ringing off the hallway walls. “Absolutely not, sister. Or did you forget how you unleashed the Vorgan on Storm Keep? That somehow slip your memory? Because it didn’t mine. People died, Rica. Innocent fucking people died because you’re a maniac. God-King!”
He said the last word like a curse. I was so confused. Vorgan? Storm Keep? His sister was a murderer? How was someone who had killed people free to do as she pleased like that? It didn’t make sense.
“Oh, that little thing? Teddy was harmless. You all just scared him.”
Tor’s eyes bugged out. “Harmless? Thirteen of our people died. Because of you. No, you aren’t welcome back, sister. Not now, not ever. You should be lucky that all father did was cast you out. If he wasn’t in charge at the time …”
“Then what, brother? What would you have done if that’s what you mean?” Rica walked in a circle around Tor, but he didn’t follow. He stood still.
“I would have killed you.”
“Would you now?” she said. “Done it yourself, I assume? Choked the life from me, or blasted me with a bolt, hmm?”
What on Earth were these bizarre people talking about?
No court would ever let Tor kill his sister, regardless of what crime she’d committed.
Were they acting? Was it some sort of play?
The emotions were almost too real for it to be fake.
The visceral undertones, bespeaking years of history, would be hard to replicate.
“Something like that,” Tor growled.
“Well, you’re prince now,” Rica said.
Prince? Tor was a prince? My jaw hung open as I tried to process that tiny bit of information.
“So I am,” Tor growled.
“Do it, then,” Rica said. “Kill me if you can. Your own flesh and blood.”
Tor shuddered. I could tell he didn’t like the idea.
“Just leave,” he growled, pointing at the open door. “Get out, and don’t come back.”
“You sound just like father.” She pouted.
Was the woman insane? What about their family? She’d killed thirteen people, apparently, yet her only punishment was to be cast out by their father? What sort of fucked-up royalty got away with shit like that?
Royalty. He was a prince. I’d made out with a prince. It was insane. It was all insane.
“Leave, Rica,” Tor repeated. “You aren’t welcome here, and you know it. Not here, not Storm Keep. Nowhere. Go away.”
I had no idea how Tor was so calm. His sister was clearly trying to provoke him. How that would do her any good, I didn’t know, but it was obvious she was trying to goad him into … something.
“Last chance, Rica. Get out. Now.” Tor’s voice was full of thunder.
“Oh, brother,” Rica tittered, stopping and facing Tor, her back to the door. “I have learned so much being out here all these years. So, so much. You have no idea what I’m capable of now. I doubt you could make me leave. So, no, I think I will stay.”
She took an aggressive step forward, aiming to blow past him.
Then she vanished as brilliant light filled the hallway, blinding me. There was a tremendous crack that filled my ears, leaving me deaf for several seconds. I forced myself back around the corner, out of sight, while I blinked rapidly and shook my head, trying to return some hearing to my ears.
When my vision finally returned, I peeked back around the corner. The air tingled with charged ions and fresh ozone. And there was no sign of Rica. Just an empty doorway that Tor stared out through, his chest heaving.
What the fuck?