Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
I am a horrible disappointment of a daughter, but I’ll be damned twice over before I balk at what needs to be done now. My parents are content to pray over my sister until God heals her cancer. They’d rather she die than lack the faith to see herself well again, as if her cancer is punishment for something she’s done, rather than a terrible thing that happened to a good person because the world is random in its cruelty the same way it’s random in its kindness.
Well, fuck that. My sister will get the treatment she needs, and she’ll live.
I shove to my feet and grab the pen lying on the desk, ignoring Azazel’s sharp protest, then scrawl my name on one of the lines for a signature. I spin to face him. “There. It’s done. Please stop trying to talk me out of this.”
He looks like I picked up a gun and shot him: in shock and something almost like pain. He turns to Rusalka. “I’ve changed—”
“The human has made her choice.” Rusalka still has that glorious, terrible, and soft amusement in her rich tones. She reaches one long arm over and picks up the pen to sign before Azazel can protest further. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take good care of her.”
I expect that to rile him further, but some of the tension in his broad shoulders eases. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “So be it. Understand that if you misjudge this and harm her, your kingdom is forfeit.”
“Consider me cowed and obedient.” Rusalka sounds anything but. They rise slowly to their impressive height and hold out a hand, which I belatedly realize shifts to black at their fingers . . . their claws. “Come along, Belladonna. It’s time to go home.”
Home.
There might have been a time when the concept of home was as warm and comforting as the movies make it seem, but I can’t remember experiencing that for myself.
It doesn’t matter. The only peace I find is in the inevitability of sin, of the moment when I know I shouldn’t do a thing but do it anyways, pulled forward by an impulse I’ve never learned to fight. Not for all the prayer and punishment and extreme interventions. Rejecting the church’s teachings hasn’t cured me of that dangerous impulsiveness. If anything, sometimes I swear it’s made things worse.
What’s one more mistake? At least someone actually benefits from it this time. I slip my hand into Rusalka’s and allow her to pull me to my feet. “I’m ready to go . . . home.”
4
RUSALKA
Iunderstand now. This human will require careful handling. I hadn’t really thought Azazel was overstating things, but it was difficult to fully credit his concern before meeting Belladonna.
She’s magnificent, even while fighting herself. How fiercely would Belladonna shine if not for the shame clinging to her, weighing her down like a widow’s shroud? I have a feeling it would be fierce indeed. And I have every intention of finding out.
The magic of the bargainer demon’s castle provides a quick exit back to my territory. It’s one of those strange quirks that are all but impossible to ward against, one that caused my territory no end of grief when we were at war so long ago. It may be difficult to march an army through a single door, but an assassin? My predecessors’ records are immaculate; as a result, Azazel never postures to remind me of what he’s capable of. He knows I will never forget.
Even so, it’s a relief to step through the door and back into the pleasant warmth I’m so used to without many days’ journey. I keep Belladonna’s hand clasped in mine as I turn to shut the door and throw the bar across it.
She watches with wide eyes. “Is that really enough to stop magic?”
“No.” I shrug. “But it makes everyone feel better, and sometimes that’s the most important thing.” I can see her lack of understanding in the small line that appears between her brows. “I’ll show you to your rooms, and then I’ll hunt down some food to settle your nerves.”
I note the way she almost flinches but muscles through her instinctive response. This one is a fighter. I approve.
“Settle my nerves,” she echoes. She smiles, the expression bright and sunny—and a complete lie. “That sounds . . . nice.”
I keep moving, tugging her along with me. My Insomnior Court will show up before too long, looking for an update and to assure themselves that I’m fine after the meeting with Azazel. Normally I would seek them out immediately to discuss this turn of events, but I suspect Belladonna is reaching the end of her ability to process new things.
I lead her to the consort’s rooms. They’ve stood empty since I took my title. I haven’t had time to indulge in a proper consort; ruling this territory takes up too much time and energy. All my romantic encounters are restricted to sex only, and I avoid partners who look at me with stars in their eyes. Better that everyone involved has the same expectations. I’ve only misjudged a few times, and the pain it’s caused has ensured I am particularly careful now.