Chapter 10 Razik #3
Razik glanced down at the Fae, and she shifted under his stare. “She was looking for somewhere to buy a dress.”
“Razik!” Niara snapped in irritation.
“Sorry, Niara,” he said again. “We just need to figure out what to do with her.”
“The cells,” Cethin cut in. “Put her in the cells. Away from any other prisoners.”
Razik turned to face him fully, and the king held his stare, impassive and revealing nothing.
First, he didn’t want her apprehended at all; now he wanted her placed in their cells?
None of this made sense, and despite his earlier statement, Cethin wasn’t stupid.
He was actually quite clever and cunning. It was annoying.
“Fine,” Razik finally said. “Jarek, can you take care of that? I need to talk to Wren. And Tybalt, apparently.”
Jarek nodded, easily lifting Kailia into his arms, blanket and all, and leaving the room.
Without a word, Razik followed, Wren at his side.
The moment they were outside Niara’s apothecary room, he grabbed Wren’s hand and Traveled them to his study in Tybalt’s estate home.
He got himself a glass of liquor before taking a seat on one of the overstuffed sofas, his head tipping back and eyes falling closed.
The scratches from Kailia’s magic still burned faintly.
He needed to bathe and clean them properly before they healed over and trapped an infection.
“Can I draw from you?” he asked, unsure of how full Wren’s magic reserves were.
“Of course,” Wren answered, and he felt the sofa dip beside him a moment later.
“You have enough magic right now?”
“I’ll be fine, Razik. But seriously? Again?”
He opened his eyes, setting his liquor aside to take the dagger she was holding out, already having sliced the Mark on her hand.
He did the same to his palm before taking her hand in his to merge their blood.
With her feet tucked under her, she propped her head on her other fist and waited for him to say something as power flowed between them.
Sighing, he said, “Dragon fire is one of two defenses we seem to have against these new threats. And we don’t have control over the second way. You didn’t tell me you spent time with her today.”
“I haven’t seen you to be able to tell you,” Wren said pointedly.
“We ran into her in the city. She said she was looking to buy a dress. I took her to Elenor’s, but she left shortly after we entered the shop.
By the time I went back to find Jarek and Bram, they were just getting word of the attack.
A minute later, Fallon appeared, telling us to come to the castle. ”
That about summed it up, he supposed.
“Did she say anything? About where she’s from? Any indication of what she’s doing here or what she wants?”
Wren shook her head, but the way she was worrying her bottom lip told him she was hiding something.
“Wren,” he said flatly.
“It’s nothing, Razik.”
“I’m pretty sure everything is something with her.”
“Kailia. She said her name was Kailia.”
“And?”
She sighed. “She asked a lot of questions about you. And us together, but mostly you.”
“Me?” he repeated, failing to hide the surprise.
She nodded. “Asked if we were together. If I was forced to be your Source. Things like that. But I know she was here with Cethin this morning, and I don’t know what any of it means.”
He didn’t either. But he’d figure it out, and in the meantime, he’d use any knowledge to his advantage.
The sound of boots on the iron staircase told him his uncle had found him, and Wren stiffened at his side.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her, pulling his hand back. He’d drawn enough for now. Wren didn’t need to be here for this conversation. “Go wait downstairs. I’ll take you back to the castle after I speak with him.”
She nodded, standing and plucking a wide leaf off a plant near the window. Using her power, she soaked it with water and wound it around her hand. The cut would heal within an hour, but the leaf would keep the blood from dripping everywhere for now.
“I’ll send word to have Magdalena get you some food,” he added.
“No need. I’ll find her,” she said, her smile weak as Tybalt entered the room.
The Commander didn’t say a single word as she ducked her head and scurried past him.
Razik stared back at the male with features so similar to his own yet different.
One could easily guess they were related, and many assumed Tybalt was his father.
He didn’t correct them. Despite the argument they were about to have, Razik still considered Tybalt his father, even if the male hadn’t sired him.
He was the one who’d cared enough to raise him.
Who’d tried to convince the people who’d birthed him to take him with them.
Instead, he’d been left here when he was seven years to fulfill a duty he didn’t understand and hated now that he knew exactly what he’d been abandoned for.
Lifting his glass to his lips, he asked, “Want one?” before he took a drink, ice clinking.
“No, Razik. I don’t want a fucking drink,” Tybalt growled, a faint trace of smoke wafting into the air on his exhale. Yep, he was definitely irate.
Razik shrugged, taking another swallow.
“What in the realms happened today?” Tybalt demanded.
“Cethin went and got himself stabbed. Again,” Razik answered.
“Under your watch.”
It was a statement, not a question, and it made something beneath his skin itch and his dragon bristle.
When he remained silent, Tybalt continued, “I know you don’t like Cethin, but I thought you understood that being a member of the Cadre means protecting him anyway.”
“I do know that,” Razik snapped.
“Then explain what the fuck happened today!” Tybalt repeated, the words ringing with rage.
“It didn’t even happen during the battle,” Razik retorted, his own voice rising in defensiveness.
Restless and agitated, he got to his feet so he wouldn’t feel like he was being looked down upon by the one person whose opinion actually mattered to him.
“It happened afterwards. None of us were expecting it.”
“No one was expecting it? That’s your excuse?”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s—”
“Your job—all of your godsdamn jobs—is to be ready for the unexpected. You failed today, Razik.”
Then he was gone, Traveling out of the room and leaving Razik standing there.
Alone.
It hadn’t been an excuse. Merely an explanation as he tried to break down exactly how fast everything had happened. No one had expected the tiny violent ally to turn on Cethin, grabbing his own dagger from where it had been sheathed on his belt.
He paused, thinking it over for a second.
Because now that he’d had a moment to really evaluate it all, that wasn’t true. Cethin hadn’t seemed surprised at all. In fact, he had almost seemed to expect it. Had let it happen.
And Razik was getting his ass handed to him for it.
Glass met the wall as Razik hurled the crystal tumbler. Ice dropped to the floor while liquid dripped down the flat surface.
Kailia should have aimed higher.