Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

“What is it, then?”

He glanced around as though he was expecting someone to be eavesdropping. “I’m not trying to relive the past or anything—once was enough—but I should be honest with you about why I’m here on Earth to begin with.”

“Didn’t you already tell us that?”

“Well . . . yes. Sort of. But there’s more to the story. Like you with your parents, there’s been a part of me that thought not talking about it might somehow lessen the pain. I think we both know it doesn’t always work that way.”

I nodded. “You’re right. And if you have more that you want to tell me, I’d be happy to hear it.” I thought back to when I’d inadvertently spilled my guts to Navan and how he’d helped me better understand myself. Maybe I could help him in the same way.

He took a deep breath. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked about this. I had a little sister named Naya. She was my pal. When she turned sixteen, she started dating Ronad, even though our parents—and a couple of my brothers—were completely against it.”

“Why?”

“Well . . . for a few different reasons. Some of my brothers were because they felt like Ronad was our brother. Our parents had taken him in and they didn’t think it was appropriate for him to be dating Naya. Which was stupid but at least understandable. My parents didn’t want Naya involved with him because he was basically an orphan, and they didn’t think he was good enough for her. They both care very much about the opinions of others, and they felt that their daughter dating someone like Ronad wouldn’t reflect well upon the family.”

“How long did he live with you guys?”

“I think he was maybe ten? His parents were never around. They pretty much left him on his own, so he’d always come around. Until one day my parents just said he could stay.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said.

Navan nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t even think of that. But Naya and Ronad had been friends long before he moved in—they’d been playing together since they were little. To me, if anything, it seemed kind of obvious that she and Ronad would eventually wind up together.”

“So what happened?”

“What happened was my parents forbade her to see him, and told Ronad he had to move out. They of course continued to see each other in secret. Though it’s all but impossible to keep anything a secret from my father. So what brilliant idea did he come up with? He concocted this elixir similar to Elysium, except much stronger—and with the added kicker of black root, which is basically Vysanthe’s version of deadly nightshade.”

I widened my eyes. “He was trying to kill him?”

“No. He didn’t want to kill him, but he wanted to make him sick enough that he’d have to be bedridden for a while, and since the elixir had similar properties to Elysium, he wouldn’t remember Naya anyway. And while he was away recovering, my parents assumed Naya would move on—I’m sure they planned to parade a bunch of more eligible suitors in front of her. Anyway, Ronad’s birthday was coming up, so my father sent him an early birthday present—a vial of ramphastide blood.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s a bird. It’s like a toucan, except on Vysanthe, they’re six feet tall, with beaks that are more than half their length. The blood from the beak of a ramphastide is a rare delicacy and very difficult to come by. So maybe Ronad should have known, when it arrived, that there was something suspicious, because my father was not a generous man like that. But Ronad is kind and trusting and the thought never occurred to him. And unbeknownst to my parents, Naya had snuck out again to be with Ronad, and he let her have the vial. He didn’t think he’d ever have his hands on a vial of ramphastide blood again, and he wanted her to have it.”

My stomach twisted. “Oh no.”

Navan nodded, a grim expression on his face. “My father put in the exact amount of black root to injure Ronad. But Naya was much smaller than Ronad, and so it ended up being a fatal dose. It worked quickly, and she died in his arms.” Navan stared off into the distance. “Because it was a variant of Elysium, it wiped her memory clean, so she had no idea who he was.”

“Navan.” He blinked, and his focus returned to me, the pain in his eyes undeniable. I didn’t know what to say—sorry seemed completely inadequate. “That’s awful.”

“What’s awful,” he said slowly, “is that I happened to run into Naya when she was sneaking out. I could have demanded that she march herself right back into the house, but I didn’t.”

“You had no way of knowing.”

“She was my little sister, and I was supposed to protect her.” He took a deep breath. “I completely and utterly failed at doing that. I am not going to fail now. All Naya ever wanted was to get away from Vysanthe—she hated how we just used resources like there was a never-ending supply, how we exploited those that were weaker. That’s not who she was, that’s not who Ronad is, that’s not who I am, if you can believe it.”

“Of course I believe that,” I said. “You’re here, putting your life on the line to try to save Earth when you could easily just go somewhere else and not let it be your problem.”

“You should eat,” he said, pushing my plate toward me. “They’re probably cold by now. And we should get back to this paperwork.”

He picked up one of the pages and started looking at it. He clearly wasn’t someone who could take a compliment or any sort of praise at all. I wondered why that was. Perhaps it had something to do with his father.

I watched him for a second as he read, the way his eyes scanned the lines, the intense expression on his face. Everything about Navan made more sense now, and thinking about Ronad made my heart ache, especially when I remembered how he had called out Naya’s name so desperately, back when I’d hidden away in his room. That must’ve been so awful for him, to have the love of his life die in his arms, unable to remember who he was. I felt a flare of anger toward Navan’s father. Why were some parents so messed up?

Navan cleared his throat, and for a second I thought he was about to say something, but he didn’t, just continued to read, so I turned my attention to my food. The dumplings might have been sitting there for a little while, but they were still delicious, the dough buttery and flaky. I ate the whole plate, and washed it down with two cups of hot tea. Ahh. That felt better.

“The shifters certainly have been busy,” Navan said. “According to these reports, the villagers think it’s the work of the tonrar, or the devil.” He shuddered. “Which isn’t too far off the mark when it comes to shapeshifters, vile little things. In everything I’ve read so far, people have reported hearing wolves or seeing some sort of furry, four-legged animal. No one’s actually seen one of them try to take someone.”