15. Wren #2
“A raven.” Nicholas answers facing the windows.
We’ve barely begun and he’s already settled into his typical grouchy, I’m-too-afraid-of-hurting-her-to-be-anything-but-an-asshat bullshit.
“So is he a raven or a man?”
“He’s both, Helene. Does it scare you?” I brush my knee against her thigh and pretend it doesn’t invalidate me when she shifts away. “He’d never hurt you. None of us would. We’re here for you.”
Nicholas flinches. Scarcely visible.
But I see it.
And still, fucking Forest got to taste her first. If this were a competition, he’d be in the lead. Forest doesn’t even know enough to feel guilty about it.
Lucky bastard.
Helene lifts her gaze, a phantom grin flashing over her mouth before she turns to Nicholas. “You don’t really say much.”
I take an innocent sip. “Perhaps he needs more coffee.”
It gets worse the more I drink. Nicholas seems to have drawn the same conclusion from his quick sniff earlier.
Although he prowls the kitchen, I know. There is no place we’d rather be than with her. We’ve already slipped into the ease of the interaction, one she doesn’t notice. Yet.
She will.
“So Kali sent a troll—” she starts.
“Kari. The Norse god of the north wind,” Nicholas says through clenched teeth.
“Kari,” Helene forces out the word, “sent a troll to kill me.”
I brush my knee to hers again. “Not Kari. Odin.”
She shivers at the name. “You speak like the gods exist.”
Nicholas stalks the kitchen like a caged animal. “Because they do.”
Too much Helene and too little space
We don’t have enough time. If this cycle is speeding up then we have to get Helene on board with us, without her thinking we do belong in a psychiatric facility.
Odin and the Norns, King Draven and the dark Fae...The walls of this world, our prison, were closing in.
The curse made sure there was no escape.
“No. I’m going to go along with this insane assumption that the gods are real—” Helene lifts a finger, “only for the extent of this conversation.”
“Lovely,” I agree, flashing teeth.
“Why would Odin want to send a troll? Was he responsible for the first one as well?”
“He sent them for you, monster. Because he knows where you are now.”
Finally, a better question, so much better than the surface level ones she flung at us earlier. Unfortunately, these are the answers designed to rattle the foundation of her world.
The responses aren’t easy. Helene stares between the two of us. And damn, Nicholas needs to stop pacing.
“You’re giving me a headache,” I call out.
He brushes the opposite wall, the faded wallpaper peeling along the top of the panel. It spurs him back toward us. He makes it to the edge of the table before reversing his course.
“Good.”
Helene hasn’t touched her coffee. “Does anyone want more?”
“No.” I’m quick to answer for us both. “Thank you. You've done enough.”
“Why would Odin want to come after me?” She asks the question but not to either of us. More to herself. “I’m nothing. I’m no one special.”
Something ugly twists in my chest. You’re everything.
My shadows leach out of me, the gloom in the room increasing and a chill searching through the cracks in the windows.
I sigh, getting to my feet. “I think it’s time for you to rest.”
“I can’t rest. There’s no way for me to sleep now. Do you see this?” She lifts a shaking hand away from her mug. “The adrenaline is real. I think I’m losing it, because I can’t stop moving. My mind is going a thousand miles an hour, and I might have a heart attack.”
Her tone increases in volume, and Nicholas is there. He reaches for her, only to let his hand fall with inches to spare. Touching her would be a catastrophe.
Eventually he stares at her. Sees her. Big mistake.
Hunger instantly hollows his expression.
“Why would anyone want me? I haven’t done anything.” Her chin juts higher. “I take care of my sister. Sure, we’ve stayed in Nightshade longer than usual but it’s a good place. Or it was. It’s...it’s just...”
“Breathe,” he snaps.
She needs to breathe, because he isn’t.
“I’m breathing.” She sends him a nasty look. “I’m also freezing. Why am I cold now, but I wasn’t when the troll turned the town into the inside of a snow globe?”
“You said it yourself. The adrenaline.” Gods help anyone who tried taking her from us again.
“I can’t rest, anyway. Forest is in my bed, passed out. And Audra...” she trails off, her throat working. “You fed her blood. Odin, the immortals...I don’t even go to church. My sister is drinking blood, and I should find the nearest chapel and start praying.”
“She’ll be fine.” Nicholas deflects the way he does best.
He’s three feet away. Distance alone might save them both.
Every second near her peels something raw off his restraint. It’s taxing for him to face her, knowing what he knows in the face of her innocence. I wouldn’t want to be in his position.
Then again, I wouldn’t want to be in any of our positions.
Outside, a sheet of rain needles the windows. The drone dampens my senses and has me clenching the coffee mug closer like I’m desperate for warmth.
“You’re a vampire,” Helene says outright.
Nicholas goes dead still. There it is. The word hangs between them like a wound.
Well. So much for subtlety.
“Much better.” My smirk widens. “I think you’re getting it.”
“So what are you, Wren?”
The air shifts. The world pauses, my shadows surging back to me and feeding me information. What am I?
I’m the start of this mocking cruelty. And, potentially, its end.