Lucien looked at Tenzin, who had wiped her expression clean.
What is going on with you?
There was something between Lucien and Tenzin. Ben could see it. Something they weren’t telling the rest of the group. “Tenzin?”
She turned to him. “Yes?”
Ben hardened his voice. “What is going on?”
“If the scroll exists, it’s not Saba who is going to have a problem with your taking it,” Lucien said. “It’s Arosh. Both of them believe in the blood of Mithra theory, and Arosh thinks Mithra is his sire.”
It was enough to distract Ben. “What’s that?”
“Arosh,” Lucien said again. “He never knew who his sire was, but since his children are sired to wind, he believes his sire must be Mithra.” Lucien shrugged. “It’s not preposterous. How many ancient wind vampires were roaming around Central Asia when Arosh was turned? Probably not that many.”
Tenzin muttered, “Maybe more than you think.”
“Either way,” Lucien said, “it’s Arosh who will be the problem, not Saba. This manuscript alone will be enough for her. Desta’s crown? As the Americans say, it would be icing on the cake.”
Lucien and Makeda had returned to their lodging for the day while Giovanni, Beatrice, and Ben cleaned up in the library. Tenzin sipped a glass of blood-wine and watched them, thinking about what Lucien had whispered to her before he left.
“You must tell him. You must tell them all. Otherwise, you’re sending them into what could be a fight with a blindfold over their eyes.”
It was true, and Tenzin felt the weight of knowledge like a rock in her stomach. She looked at Ben, then at Beatrice. They would be angry. To what extent, she didn’t know.
But she knew Lucien was right.
“Benjamin.” She didn’t have to call his name loudly to get his attention.
“What is it?” He walked over, and she saw the knowledge of secrets in his eyes. “Are you finally going to let me in on what you and Lucien weren’t telling the rest of us?”
She looked at Giovanni and Beatrice, who were watching them. Then she turned back to Ben. “This has to do with the night you died. Do you want to talk here?”
Giovanni and Beatrice were at Ben’s side in a blink.
“This has to do with Johari,” Giovanni said. “Saba’s daughter who—”
“She’s one of Saba’s army,” Tenzin said. “She’s not a true daughter.”
Saba had an army of “children” now—those she had healed from Elixir poisoning—who were grateful for her healing and ready to do her bidding, but none of them had Saba’s true amnis as Lucien did. They held mere shadows of her power, but she had their unwavering loyalty.
“Johari stabbed me,” Ben said coldly. “She wanted Zhang’s sword for herself.”
It was as if she was living the night again, seeing Ben’s blood seep from a sword through his spine. His face, pale as death…
Pale as the vampire he had become.
I didn’t want to die yet.
He had been so angry with her; he would be angry again. But Lucien was right; Ben needed to know.
“After I took you to Zhang…” Tenzin forced the words out. “After he took you back to Penglai, I hunted Johari down within a few nights,” Tenzin’s mind drifted back to a storm over the Philippine Islands and a boat bobbing in the churning sea. “There were others on the boat, earth vampires. They tried to kill me, but they died quickly. Then I found Johari.” She looked up. “I told you I didn’t kill her.”
“You said I asked you not to,” Ben said. “When I was dying.”
“But you didn’t die,” Tenzin said. “And when I found that vampire, she said that wasn’t her intention.”
Ben crossed his arms over his chest, his face set in stone. “I’m sure I was only collateral—”
“She was following orders,” Tenzin said. “Orders from her sire. From Saba. She told Johari to wound you enough that you would have to turn.”
Beatrice’s hand came to Ben’s shoulder. “What?” An expression of betrayal wrecked Beatrice’s face. “But Saba healed Giovanni.”
“She’s not good, Beatrice.” Tenzin shook her head. “She never has been. Saba’s daughter was sent to steal the sword but also to make sure that Ben became a vampire,” Tenzin said. “She even told Johari that I had to be the one to make the request.”
Ben’s fangs grew long. “Did you—?”
“Never. I would never ask Saba for anything, and especially not for that.” Tenzin felt her lip curl up at the same time the spear of pain pierced her heart. It wasn’t Ben’s fault that he doubted her. The night sky knew she’d gone behind his back enough times to make him doubt. “Do you believe me?”
Ben hesitated, but Giovanni spoke. “Of course we believe you, Tenzin. You and Saba have never been friends. That story sounds like it was dreamed up to make a reluctant soldier think she was doing the right thing.”
Beatrice still looked stunned. “But Saba—”
“Saba does not see right or wrong as we do.” Giovanni sounded tired. “She has little value for personal autonomy or individual rights. To her, those are all very modern concepts.”
Ben’s voice was bitter. “So making sure I was a vampire serves her purposes somehow.”
“Yes,” Tenzin said. “That is the only thing I can think of.”
Tenzin watched Ben. He still wasn’t looking at her. It didn’t matter what Giovanni or Beatrice thought. Not really. It only mattered—
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” His voice was dark and cold when he finally looked at her. “It’s been three years since I was turned and not once—”
“What would it have benefited you to have an enemy you could do nothing about?” Tenzin said. “You will never be stronger than her, my Benjamin. If you had flown off—”
“You think I’m that big an idiot?” he shouted. “I know she’s more powerful than me.” The air in the library whipped around, confused by his anger. “I deserved to know.”
“I’m telling you now,” Tenzin said. “Because it could be important now.”
“But not before,” he said. “I didn’t have a right to know before?”
She tasted her own blood in her mouth. “You had the right.”
“Then why the fuck did you wait until now?”
Ben turned and stormed out of the library, leaving Beatrice and Giovanni alone with Tenzin as she ached in the wake of his fury.
“I knew it would hurt,” Tenzin said softly. “And he was already hurting so much.” Her eyes rose to Beatrice. “I would do anything to protect him. Anything.”
Beatrice looked away, and Tenzin saw her blinking her eyes hard.
“When you love someone,” Giovanni said, “it’s impossible to shield them from everything, Tenzin. And sometimes shielding them only makes the hurt worse.”
Tenzin looked at the door where he’d stormed out and wondered how dusty her warehouse in Pasadena had become. Ben needed space, and he wouldn’t want to see her. She’d retreat there for the night.