“I didn’t need saving. I am bad, Kricket, but she didn’t make me bad.”
“You don’t have to be bad.”
“I do, but I’ll be worse to anyone who is bad to you. Come, let’s go meet some of the Brothers.” He holds his hand out to me and this time I take it.
CHAPTER 11
BEAUTY GOES DEEP
We exit through the brown leather doors, leaving Kyon’s study behind. A short corridor brings us to tall, thin ivory doors. They remind me of keys on a piano. Kyon pauses before we enter the room. He turns to me, grasping my chin and making me look at him. “You’ll be the most important person in the room, but if you don’t demand their respect, they’ll never give it to you.”
“So they’re normal,” I reply.
“I’m always protecting you, whether you know it or not.” He’s not lying—at least he believes what he says. I wonder, and not for the first time, if he knows just how broken he is.
“We’re on the same team for now, Kyon. I’ll follow your lead. Just tell me one thing: What are they most afraid of?”
“This.” He motions to both of us with his index finger. “You and I aligned and out of their control. To see us together will unsettle them.”
“What if we’re in love?”
“They’d be unable to look away.”
“Hmm,” I respond.
I wish that I’d had time to prepare for this. If I’d been given a moment, I could’ve launched myself into the future for a dry run. No such luck, though. I have to play this one straight and hope for the best.
My feet are heavy as I trudge into the room. It’s grand in a way I’m somewhat accustomed to now that I’ve lived in Rafe’s palace. The left side of this regal room is open to the outside by a series of white wood-framed French doors that run the length of the pastel blue room. Silken, white curtains are draped to the sides. The tranquil breeze brings with it the scent of flowers. I don’t recognize them, but that aroma is lovely. They’re melon-colored and grow on the vines creeping over the outside of the doorframes.
Enormous framed portraits cover the walls. They depict lovely, blond-haired, blue-eyed Etharians. The ceiling is at least two stories above our heads and painted with gorgeous Viking-like rune symbols.
There are three camps languishing in the room. On the left side of the room, by the open doors, there are a few groupings of beautiful blond women. Three of them sit at a gaming table that has a three-tier chesslike board on its marble top. Elegant stone figurines that resemble mythological creatures: dragons, griffins, winged horses, and the like, rove over the game board on their own. The women are each adorned with face candy; black lace adheres to the tall one’s eyebrows, henna lines arch over the thinner one’s brow, and golden chains stretch from ear to ear over the snub nose of the one with golden eyelashes.
The second camp is near the back of the room. Soft music is playing from an instrument that resembles a pianoforte. Every single inch of this priestess’s eyebrows are covered with silver ring piercings. Two women accompanying the pianoforte play stringed instruments that sound like violins. Still another priestess is playing a weirdly shaped guitar that has the resonance of a mandolin.
The third camp in the room is located to the right of it. It’s a group of attractive blond men who are seated on thronelike chairs. They’re monsters who are wary of the shark at my side. A couple of them rise from their seats to ease their discomfort at Kyon’s height advantage over them. It still doesn’t help though. Kyon’s the tallest one in the room . . . and the most fit . . . and if I’m being honest, he’s the handsomest as well, and it kills me to think that.
It bothers me that the Brothers don’t do more than glance at me. They’re definitely not as afraid of me as they are of Kyon. I’m surprised to know that it bothers me that I’m the lesser of the two evils in their eyes. I want them to quake when they see me and shudder when my very name is spoken. I want them to cower in my presence. It’s a bit shocking to me the depth of this emotion. Maybe it shouldn’t be. They’re one of the reasons that I’m here. How dare they bring me here! What right do any of them have to my life? It’s mine.
Kyon leads me past the male encampment on the right without even acknowledging the Brothers’ presence. He does the same with priestess gamers at the elegant card table, even though they’re all watching him with road-sign eyes designed to let him know that they have no problem merging with him at any point up ahead. He doesn’t seem to notice the tell-me-I’m-pretty looks he gets from them, or if he does, he’s stoically ignoring them. I assess him with a side-glance. Kyon Ensin is the resident bad boy who every single one of them wants to sample. Nezra isn’t alone in her adoration of him. Interesting. How can I use this to my advantage?
Kyon leads me to a small cluster of seats in front of the musicians. I notice for the first time that there’s one more priestess in the room that I missed. It’s Goth-girl . . . what was her name? Phlix? She’s the priestess who tried to help Kyon kidnap me on the Ship of Skye—the one who can create a shadow land that hides anyone within it.
From her chair in front of the musicians, Phlix gives me a bashful smile, and then she bites her lip. Her long, blond hair is loose around her shoulders. Kohl rims her sad, blue eyes. She doesn’t wear any facial adornments other than makeup. I wonder about it as I sit with a chair between us. I expect Kyon to sit next to me. Instead, he grasps my hand, putting it to his lips. “I will go speak with the Brothers. I won’t be too long.”
Kissing my hand, he smiles before he releases it. He turns to leave me when I say over-dramatically, “You’re abandoning me, my love?” From the corner of my eye, I notice the heads of the musicians turn perceptibly in our direction.
Kyon pauses, his eyes widening briefly. He slowly turns back to me. “I’ll be right over there.” He points to the group of Brothers. I look in their direction with a shy smile.
Getting to my feet and invading Kyon’s personal space, I use my fingertips to skim over his dark uniform sleeve. I twist a tendril of my hair around my finger and look up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “But what if I miss you?”
His eyebrows pull together a little before they go up minutely. A smile develops on his lips, but he quickly hides it from everyone. His hand touches my shoulder, slipping down my side. When it reaches my waist he pulls me closer to him. His proximity makes my heart flutter faster.
“It’ll be torture to be so far away from you, but I’ll be able to see you from there,” he says, playing along.
“Should I give you something to remember me by?” I ask, as I trace my finger over his chest. A note of music is played off key. I pretend not to notice the cold sound of the missed bow stroke from one of the priestesses beside us.
“I think you must,” Kyon replies. “I need something to cherish.”
I couldn’t be more afraid of what I’m about to do if I was holding a razor blade to my bare wrist. My hand rests lightly on his chest, working its way slowly up to the symbols that darken his neck. Kyon’s hand slips behind my back. He presses me to him. His body has to have been carved from the mountains surrounding this place because it’s granite and doesn’t feel real. Leaning his face toward mine, my mouth tips up to meet his. Before our lips touch, my violet, half-lidded eyes meet his intense stare. For a second, I think I see the future in them—one with him and me and blinding stars.