Chapter Five #2
Cruz coughs into his fist, and Knox looks like he might murder everyone. I shouldn’t find that attractive. I do ... unfortunately.
Krishka taps the envelope. “We need to know what kind of invitation this is if it admits one, two, or a group. If there are entry requirements. Blood offerings. Masks. Passwords.”
Ari leans over it. “It says formal dress. That’s ominous.”
“Formal dress is always ominous,” Cruz says with a roll of his eyes.
Malichai picks up the invitation and reads silently. His expression hardens. “Entry requires a blood mark.”
My stomach drops. “A what?”
Aldron answers. “A drop of blood from the invited party pressed to the seal. It binds the invitation to the guest.”
“No,” Knox says.
One word. This time, no one argues. Even I understand.
If the seal binds blood, then using Moira’s invitation is not simple. Maybe impossible. Probably dangerous. Possibly another way for the monsters to know exactly who walks through their door.
Akasha takes the invitation from Malichai and holds it above her palm. Magic flickers around her fingers, soft and gold. “The blood mark is unused.”
Krishka steps closer. “Careful.”
“I am,” she replies while Korvin growls quietly behind her. Akasha smiles without looking back. “You too.”
He shuts up, and her magic brightens. The wax seal shivers before the room fills with music.
Faint and muffled. A bass line through walls.
My vision tunnels. The bar blurs, replaced by red velvet and candle smoke.
A woman’s red nails. A silver-haired vampire.
My wrists bound above my head. My mouth too dry to beg.
This one will fetch more if she lives.
I choke on the fear clawing up my throat.
Knox is suddenly in front of me. Not touching but blocking my view of the envelope.
“Look at me,” he says.
I can’t. The music pounds in my skull. A hand grips my hair in memory, yanking my head back. Teeth scrape my throat.
“Briana.” Knox’s voice is sharper now. Commanding.
It should make it worse, but it doesn’t. Because beneath the command is fear. For me.
I force my eyes up.
His face fills my vision. Dark eyes. Hard jaw. A scar through his eyebrow. Not them. Not them.
I drag in a breath. Then another. The bar returns. Akasha has lowered the invitation. Her face is pale, and Korvin’s hand is wrapped around the back of her neck as if he is holding himself in place through contact alone.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I shake my head, though my throat feels full of broken glass. “What did you see?”
“Not enough.” Her voice is strained. “But the invitation is connected to the location. I can follow the thread.”
“Without using blood?” Aldron asks.
“Yes. But not tonight. I need supplies from Krishka.”
Krishka nods. “I have what you need.”
“Good,” Aldron says. “Then we don’t have to attend tomorrow blind.”
“We?” Knox asks.
Aldron looks at him. “You didn’t think you were going alone, did you?”
Knox says nothing while everyone stares at him.
Cruz laughs. “He absolutely thought he was going alone.”
“Idiot,” Korvin mutters.
“That’s rich coming from you,” Akasha says, and Korvin grunts.
The tiny normal moment loosens something in my chest.
Then Aldron looks at me. “And you won’t attend unless we can guarantee layered protections and an exit.”
Knox opens his mouth. Aldron points at him. “Don’t.” Knox closes his mouth again.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. It’s probably inappropriate, but still satisfying.
The meeting shifts into strategy after that. Words fly around me. Glamour. Wards. Entry points. Emergency signals. Blood marks. Moira’s warning.
Something in my blood.
No one says much about that part, but I notice. Of course, I notice.
Eventually, the conversation becomes too large. Too many voices. Too many plans involving me, around me, near me. The walls begin to creep inward, slowly and subtly. My skin tightens, and my breathing shallows.
Knox’s eyes find mine across the room. This time, he doesn’t step toward me. He looks at the back door instead, an offer without words. Space.
I take it. “I need air,” I say, and everyone stops. “I’m not running,” I add, irritated. “Just breathing somewhere else.”
Ari lifts both hands. “No one said anything.”
“Your faces did.”
“I have a very expressive face.”
“You have a meddling face.”
She grins. “Also true.”
I head for the back door, and for once, no one follows. Not immediately.
The alley behind The Gin Room smells like rain-soaked brick, garbage, and city heat. It’s not pretty, but it’s real. I lean against the wall and pull air into my lungs until the tightness in my chest eases by inches.
The door opens behind me.
I know it’s Knox before he speaks. Not because of magic. Because my body has apparently decided to memorize him without permission.
“I waited two minutes,” he says.
I close my eyes. “Heroic restraint.”
“It almost killed me.”
A laugh escapes me. Small but real.
He stops a few feet away. Always those few feet. Always letting me decide whether the distance between us lives or dies.
“I’m not going to break,” I say.
“I know.”
I open my eyes and look at him. He means it, maybe not completely. There’s still a part of him that wants to wrap me in safety and snarl at the world until it behaves. But he is trying.
I lean my head back against the brick. “Do you?”
His gaze moves over my face. “I know you aren’t glass.”
My throat tightens. Damn him.
“But?” I ask.
“But glass is not the only thing that shatters.”
For a moment, the alley seems to hold its breath with us.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit.
“Do what?”
“Be afraid and still live. Want things without hating myself for wanting them. Let people help me without feeling like I’ve handed them whatever pieces of me I still own.”
Knox’s hands flex at his sides. “I don’t know how to help without trying to take over.”
“No shit.”