His gaze panned the dimly lit halls. They’d been empty—a route for escape—but now other Cruor lurked in the shadows where only the edges of light from the wall sconces gave away their movement.
With a snap of Thalia’s fingers, four guards approached, dressed as Continental Artillery: dark blue jackets faced with scarlet, tan trousers tucked into white socks, and black-buckled, square-toed shoes. But their build was much too large for the late 17th century. Thalia mused at their being dressed in these replica uniforms, all to appease the Maltorim’s Queen—Callista.
At the lapse in Thalia’s attention, Charles lunged for her. Two guards yanked him back, restraining him before he made contact. The other two secured Adrian, who resigned immediately, though Charles tried to pull away. The tallest guard kicked him behind the knee, the force dropping him to the ground.
Thalia, seemingly unaffected, waved her hand, and the guards lifted Charles back to his feet.
He lowered his chin to his chest. Leave, Sophia.
Thalia’s face hovered right beside his, and she flicked her tongue against his cheek. “You do taste funny.”
I wiped away the moisture above my lip, but my body was still damp, sweat trickling down my back like tiny bugs fleeing from Thalia’s scathing tone.
Charles recoiled from her touch. “What they are doing here is wrong. Why would you get involved?”
“Wrong, Charlie?” She laughed, snatching the earpiece from his and Adrian’s ears. She plunked them into the open hand of one of the guards. “Little hypocrite. All these years with your ‘We can’t hunt humans, it’s the law’ bullshit. Now here I am, abiding these precious laws, and you condemn me?” She arched an eyebrow, her face frozen as if stapled into place.
Charles gritted his teeth. “The law against dual-breeds is centuries old.”
“Boo hoo. The laws are not there for your convenience, Charlie. You don’t get to pick and choose.” Thalia snapped her gaze toward Adrian. “And you, foolish child—you risk your life for this? He is nothing!”
Adrian’s fangs crunched down and his face contorted with a snarl. “You’re no more than a deadbeat tracker who didn’t meet the mark to join the Maltorim.”
Thalia’s eerie smile slipped for a fraction of a second as she cracked Adrian across the jaw. My own face stung slightly from the phantom impact, and I lifted a hand to my cheek.
“We’ll see who makes the Maltorim.”
She spun on her heel and began to walk away. After a few steps, she stopped and called over her shoulder to the guards. “
Take them to holding. I’m off to have a little chat with the Queen.”
She threw her hand up in dismissal, not bothering to so much as glance back as she strode down the corridor. Her thoughts raced too quickly for me to make sense of them.
I used Adrian as a marker and catalyst into her visions. The ignisvisum scratched her sights through Adrian’s. I tried splitting the views, but without success.
I had to choose.
***
THALIA’S HEELS CLICKED down the corridor. The dying torchlight flickered, tossing odd shadows along the floor. The passage reminded me of the entrance to Club Flesh, but the water leaking through the stone walls gave the asylum a more ominous vibe.
Murmurs bled through the archaic doors as Thalia dolefully smoothed her slacks. She knocked. As she lifted her hand to knock again, the door creaked opened and the shadow of a small woman appeared in the doorway.
“Queen Callista,” Thalia said with a small bow.
The Queen stepped forward, and Thalia worked through her discomfort to hold eye contact. Sure, Callista could kill her for any small infraction, but she needed to be regarded as an equal—as one worthy of the Maltorim.
Callista’s bone-thin figure jutted from the dark room, and she hummed a quiet, offbeat tune under her breath. My heart, affected by her eerie lullaby, stuttered. She tilted her head up, her nose a delicate slope, her robes clinging to her small breasts, her alabaster skin glinting beneath the hall light.
She was only a girl, stuck somewhere between youth and womanhood. Fifteen, perhaps, but an ageless fifteen, and with eyes that seemed much older. Eyes that haunted me, staring so intently into Thalia’s that I felt as though she were looking right through her to me.
“Thalia.” The name dripped from the Queen’s tongue like venom from a serpent’s fang.
Black opium incense burned Thalia’s nostrils, and she struggled not to wrinkle her nose. “I’ve apprehended Charles Liette and his companion…Adrian.”
“I am aware.” Callista swept her almost-white hair in front of her shoulder and began loosely braiding. She stared at the ends of her braid, fanning the hair out. When she looked back up to see Thalia still standing there, she released a bored sigh and folded her arms across her chest. “Well?”
Thalia expected an invitation into the room. A long moment passed, Thalia’s smile faltering under Callista’s glare. “I had come to inform you of their arrival and capture, my Queen.”