“That’s what this whole thing has been about? The Tars—it is safe to say you’re with the Tars, right? Yeah? Brilliant—think I’ll be a trophy wife who sits back and lets the Zane destroy Vakar? Did you all forget the only reason either of us”—she waved a finger between her and Trystan—“are doing this is for peace?”
Okay, well, in reality he was doing it because he’d been ordered to. She had no clue what his stance on peace was, but now wasn’t really the time to ask.
“And what’s up with trying to kill me?” She threw her arms out. “I’m the Vakar here; he’s the Kint. Shouldn’t you all be attempting to murder him?” She turned to Trystan. “No offense.”
“None taken,” he surprised her by saying, not the least bit offended by her words. He actually waved her on. “Please, continue.”
“I think I’m done.” She slammed her hands on her hips, felt the telltale tingle of anger rise up in her chest. “You know what? No, I’m not. I trusted you.” She took a step closer to Lura. “I actually liked you, even. What kind of sick, pathetic snake does this to someone?!” She pointed to the destroyed table.
“Understand”—Lura licked her lips and held her gaze—“it’s nothing personal. I actually found myself liking you as well. You’re nothing like what the others told me.” She frowned, but shook her head, sending her blond ponytail flying. “But that doesn’t change the facts. You’re no good for Vakar. Your merger will not result in peace, but war.”
“You’ll have war without it,” Trystan reminded. “Right now the only reason Vakar is still breathing is because of my father’s agreement with your Basileus.”
“Until you actually follow through with the binding,” Lura spoke to him, yet couldn’t meet his gaze head on, “there’s no guarantee of peace, of your cooperation.”
They all heard the bedroom door being opened, and a second later Brightan could be seen through the glass, crossing to the balcony. He paused in the doorway, glancing between them all, then settled a look on Trystan.
Delaney assumed they were having a mental conversation through the fittings, as the two of them remained silent.
Ruckus walked over to where Pettus held Lura, to take the Teller’s place. Once his hands were on her shoulders, he brought her down against the tabletop, her cheek a few inches from a small dime-sized puddle that had yet to evaporate. It was slowly eating its way through the glass but must have been too small to work as quickly as the rest had.
Her eyes went wide, and he ignored her gasps and struggles, holding her steady.
“Are there any other attempts we should know about?” he asked her coldly, and Delaney got why Lura had seemed so afraid of both him and the Zane instead of just the latter.
Trystan wore it more obviously, but Ruckus was every bit as capable of being a stone-cold killer.
Which had her thinking, how well did she really know him? What if she’d allowed her feelings for Ruckus to grow because part of her actually liked being here?
Being with him?
Earth was where she belonged, but she had to admit, if only to herself, Xenith wasn’t all that bad when you didn’t consider the assassination attempts, the weird food, or the asshole regents trying to control her life.
The healing pool was nice, and then there was bergozy.… She’d seriously debated whether or not to ask if Ruckus could find her a bottle of that stuff to take home with her. The biggest perk, the Ander himself …
The Ander, who was currently holding a girl pinned to a table, close to a flesh-eating substance.
“I don’t know,” Lura was mumbling. She let out a cry when she was forced closer, so that the puff of her exhales had the surface of the puddle dancing. “I swear I don’t!” Thick tears began to flow from her cheeks, dripping precariously close to the substance. Her eyes sought out Delaney, and she sobbed. “Please.”
“Stop.” The order was out of her mouth before she could think how it would look. When they all stared at her, she pulled back her shoulders. “Let her up.”
“Olena…” Trystan seemed disappointed.
“Melting a hole in her cheek isn’t going to help get us answers,” she snapped. “Ruckus, you know that’s true. Let her up.”
He hesitated then complied, slowly lifting Lura and pressing her against the back of the chair again. Continuing to hold her securely, he motioned Pettus toward the balcony door where Brightan still stood.
“Ready a cell,” he ordered, “and inform the Barer his services are requested.”
Pettus left quickly. Seemed he was always running off to do an errand or two.
Delaney didn’t know what a Barer was, but it couldn’t have been good, because if at all possible, Lura became even more frightened. Her eyes were still huge, almost looking like they were going to pop right out of her head, and her tearstained cheeks were turning red and puffy.
“We could always partake ourselves,” Trystan told Ruckus, angling his head at Lura in that familiar predatory way that had even Delaney shivering. “There are a few tricks I’ve recently learned that I’d love to get a chance to try out. What better subject than a traitor?”
“I don’t know of any other attacks,” Lura tried again, turning to Delaney. “Please, you’ve got to believe me.”
“The Lissa doesn’t have to do anything,” Trystan corrected. “And stop looking at her. You don’t have any right to it. The Lissa might not want to see your flesh eaten away, but I assure you, I have no such qualms. I will take you apart bit by bit unless you tell me exactly what it is we want to know. Nod once if you understand. Lose a finger now if you don’t.”
She nodded frantically.
“Good.” He moved closer, stopping to press his palms flat against the edge of the table across from her. It was untouched by the substance so it was safe for him. “Who else was in on this? Are there others currently in the castle? On the staff?”
Her sobbing increased, and it was hard to understand her, but she was clearly giving him names. The list wasn’t too long, yet there were at least five other people involved, enough to make Delaney seriously uncomfortable. Lura didn’t want to give them up, that was clear, but her fear of the Zane pushed her into it.
“Did you get all that?” Trystan glanced at Ruckus over Lura’s shoulder.
“Yes.” He tilted his head upward. “I’m alerting my men now. They should have the others in custody within a few minutes.”
“Once they’re apprehended, then what?” Delaney asked, glancing between Trystan and Ruckus.
“Then they’ll suffer the same fate as this one.” Trystan straightened from the table. “Let me just make sure I’ve got this correct…,” he began. “The reason for this”—he indicated the table—“is because the Tars believe Olena won’t make a good Regina?”
“The fact that you call it a Regina,” Lura sneered through the snot now running down her nose, “proves we were right. This is Vakar; here we have a Basilissa. Here we have a Lew, not a Zane.”
What was with the sudden burst of bravery? She’d been a sniveling mess up until this point; now she was talking back to the man who’d just threatened to cut her up?
“I’ve called her Lissa since my arrival,” he argued. “I’ve done nothing to dishonor the Vakar ways.”