Chapter 2 Ransom #3
The words rankled. ‘Worry about your own loyalty, Versini.’
‘Why bother when it already keeps you up all night?’ he shot back. ‘You’re the one who just survived a one-on-one with Andreas’s Necromancer. Lark should have killed you.’
‘You sound disappointed.’
‘Just making an observation.’
‘I guess it takes a hell of a lot to kill a saint,’ Ransom bit back. ‘Why don’t we test the theory now you’ve woken up?’
Stepping in close, he looked the Shadowsmith over. His eyes were the same blue green as before, if perhaps a little more guarded. There wasn’t a speck of dust on him. ‘What happened to you then?’
‘When I woke, Val and Anouk were asleep,’ he said, evenly. ‘My head was pounding, so I went for a walk. When I got back, the whole place had caved in.’
‘Looks like we both got lucky, then.’ Sarcasm dripped from every word.
Kicking away Lark’s message, Ransom turned back for Hugo’s Passage. ‘You missed the resurrection of your ancestor. Hugo came to read me a bedtime story.’
Versini stalked after him. ‘I warned you this would happen. With a Necromancer on the loose, it was madness to stay in those damn catacombs.’
‘Then why didn’t you piss off yesterday?’ Ransom kicked the gate open, stalked right through it. ‘By all means, Versini, save yourself.’
‘It’s not me I’m worried about,’ he said, keeping pace. ‘Andreas wants her.’
Ransom bristled, the words coming through his teeth. ‘Over my dead body.’
‘And mine.’
Ransom skidded to a stop, reminded with sudden vicious clarity of the scene from last night. Sera’s hand on Versini’s chest, her hair falling like a curtain around them. ‘Well? Did it work?’
Versini hesitated. ‘Not that I can tell.’
Unease festered in Ransom. ‘It took something from Seraphine, that making,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t right after it.’
He looked for her up ahead now, some primal instinct shoving him across the cobbles. She was sitting on a bench, tending to Anouk. Bathed in the dawn light, she looked as pale and fragile as a doll.
He looked back at the Shadowsmith. ‘Something changed in you last night, Versini. You can’t tell me otherwise.’
‘I’m not trying to tell you anything.’ Theo turned, stalking off towards Tobias. ‘I’ll let you know when I figure it out.’
‘I’ll be watching you,’ Ransom called after him.
The Shadowsmith laughed. ‘Enjoy the view.’
Sera was on her feet before Ransom reached her. Worry knitted her brows, her hands coming to his face to trace the bruises there. ‘What happened?’
‘Lark.’
Her eyes darkened. ‘I’ll kill him.’
‘Easier said than done.’ He gripped her hands. ‘Are you all right?’
‘You’re the one that looks like they’ve been trampled by a horse.’
‘I’ve had worse.’
She chewed on her lip. ‘What were you and Theo talking about just now?’
‘I was talking. He was lying.’
She scowled. ‘He’s as shook up as the rest of us.’
‘You could never tell.’
‘Ransom.’
‘He denies his magic.’
‘It will come.’ Her voice was soft, chiding. ‘Look how long it took Lark to figure himself out.’
A prescient example. ‘Look how he turned out.’
Wicked to the core.
‘That part isn’t up to me,’ she reminded him. ‘It’s up to fate.’
That was the problem. What gift would destiny bestow upon a grasping Versini? The last time one of Theo’s ancestors came into power, they plunged the entire city of Fantome into centuries of darkness.
Ransom looked Sera over, lingering on the grey smudges under her eyes. She was still beautiful – enough to knock the wind out of him whenever she turned those sky-blue eyes on him – but she looked tired in a way he’d never noticed before. ‘Whatever happened last night weakened you, Seraphine.’
She didn’t deny it. ‘You can’t blame that on Theo.’
He pressed his lips together. Watch me.
She smoothed the ripples along his forehead with the pad of her finger. ‘Stop thinking the worst. He’ll come good. I know it.’
And if he didn’t, Ransom would deal with it.
He caught her hand, ghosted a kiss against her knuckles. Right now, they had a more pressing concern. ‘It’s time to move on from Old Haven.’
‘I think I might know a place. It’s creepy as sin and fancy as all hell.’
‘Just my type.’
‘You’ll have to do something about those first.’ She gestured past him, to where his shadows were coiling into snakes. Lost to his own disquiet, he hadn’t even noticed them seeping out again. ‘Fontaine will chew you out if you bring your beasts into House Armand.’
‘I’ll leash them.’
For a day.
‘It’ll be good for you.’ She threaded her fingers through his. ‘Give you a chance to breathe. To come back from the darkness.’
It was so much a part of him lately that sometimes Ransom struggled to turn it off. To surrender his magic to that rippling pool inside him, even for an hour or two. He could feel it eating away at him, day after day.
He knew she could feel it too.
Proving his control to her – and himself – he recalled his adders. Seraphine, so used to the rhythm of his dark power, didn’t even flinch as they rushed back into his body, drowning once more in the murky sea of his soul.
She hummed, drawing closer to him. ‘Much better.’
He wasn’t so sure.