Marie leaned back in her chair, idly stroking the fabric. Part of me wondered where the secret door was in this room. That chair wasn’t a permanent fixture or it would be mildewed from the damp air, not to mention I didn’t believe Marie would leave herself without an alternate means of escape.
“Cheating, that doesn’t surprise me,” she commented. “Gregor’s arrogance always was his Achilles’ heel. Like bringing you to Paris when you were sixteen. I told him to come here instead. That his hometown would be the first place anyone would look for him, should his actions be discovered, but he didn’t listen.”
Everything in me froze. I didn’t dare glance at Bones again. The flash of rage that skipped across my subconscious before he recloaked his emotions told me he was thisclose to losing it at this revelation.
“So.” I couldn’t keep the edge from my tone if my life depended on it. “Gregor told you about his kidnapping plans for me back then?”
She continued to stroke her armrest, as though the tension in the room hadn’t become thick enough to cut. “Gregor told me many things. He trusted my loyalty to him as my only living sire. I don’t betray those I’ve sworn loyalty to. This shouldn’t surprise you. I told you last year that if Gregor’s claims of marriage to you were proved, I’d back his side.”
“You also told me a neat story about how you murdered your husband when he pushed you too far,” I replied sharply. “Well, I’d say tricking me into marrying him as a teenager, murdering my friend, forcibly changing my mother into a vampire, and trying to murder Bones by cheating in their duel all fell under the ‘too far’ category for me. Too bad for Gregor the vision he had of me when I was sixteen didn’t show the part about me using all those neat powers he wanted to control to kill him.”
“Underestimating you was Gregor’s mistake.” Marie didn’t move a muscle, but all of a sudden, I felt like a mouse staring at a hungry owl. “It won’t be mine. But”—a shrug—“no one can hide from death forever. No one, not even our kind. Death travels the world and passes through even the thickest walls we protect ourselves with. You should remember that.”
Was that a threat? “Not to be rude, Majestic, but it sounds like you’re telling me to watch my back with you.”
Marie grunted. “When you truly understand what it means, you’ll know how to defeat Apollyon.”
At last, we were getting on topic. I’d already figured out that I’d need to kill the ghoul to stop him, but if Marie wanted to feel like she was being all cool and cryptic with the advice, I’d play along.
“Okay. I’ll remember that.”
She smiled, genial and somehow terrifying at the same time. “You should. If you don’t, he’ll win.”
“You could always just spell it out and save us all some time,” I said, unable to keep all the exasperation out of my voice. Did being dead for over a century turn everyone into riddle masters instead of people who could just say what they meant?
“I won’t join your cause against Apollyon. Last year, my sire could have ordered me to, but with Gregor dead, my loyalty is to my people alone.”
Anger rose in me. “Even at the expense of countless thousands dying over reasons as stupid as who has fangs versus flat teeth?” I gave her café-latte skin a pointed look. “I would think you’d be smarter than to side with a senseless bigot.”
“It has nothing to do with bigotry,” she replied sharply. “But Apollyon’s reach has grown. If I openly oppose him, I will be seen as a betrayer of my race. Even ghouls who disagree with Apollyon may side with him out of species loyalty. It will be civil war. During this, am I to believe the vampire nation will not swoop in to crush us while we are weak from infighting?” Marie gave me a thin smile. “I am not so trusting.”
“Oh come on,” I huffed. “Vampires have no dreams of subjugating ghouls. You know that’s just a smoke screen Apollyon’s using.”
“There are some among your race who would take advantage of ghouls just as ruthlessly as Apollyon is seeking to do with vampires. If you’re not smart enough to heed my words and outwit him on your own, then you deserve to lose,” she replied with brutal bluntness before leaning forward and reaching behind her chair.
Everything in me tensed, ready to spring for the knives in my boots, but all she did was pull out an empty wineglass. That previous tension began to ebb. Jacques had served us drinks last time I was here, even though for the life of me I didn’t know how he’d managed to procure a cold gin and tonic in this dank underground area. But instead of calling out to him, Marie set the glass on the armrest of her chair without a word. Then she flicked open a ring on her finger, revealing that it hid a tiny sharp point, and sliced it across her wrist before holding the wineglass underneath the cut.
Oh fuck no, I thought, keeping myself from bolting out of my chair with every last bit of willpower in me.
Her gaze drilled into mine as dark purplish liquid began to fill the glass.
“Reaper,” she said coolly. “Won’t you have something to drink?”