A Darker Shade of Magic (Shades of Magic #1) - V.E Schwab Page 0,43

lighter than the other.”

“And one of your eyes is black,” she shot back. She sounded cautious, but not frightened. Or, if she was, she was very good at hiding it. “What are you?” she asked.

“A monster,” said Kell hoarsely. “You’d better let me go.”

The girl gave a small, mocking laugh. “Monsters don’t faint in the presence of ladies.”

“Ladies don’t dress like men and pick pockets,” retorted Kell.

Her smile only sharpened. “What are you really?”

“Tied to your bed,” said Kell matter-of-factly.

“And?”

His brow furrowed. “And in trouble.”

That, at least, garnered a sliver of surprise. “Aside from the obvious being tied to my bed?”

“Yes,” said Kell, struggling to sit up a little despite the binds so he could look her in the eye. “I need you to let me go and give me back the thing you stole.” He scanned the room, hoping to catch sight of the stone, but it no longer sat on the table. “I won’t turn you in,” he added. “We’ll pretend this never happened, but I need it.”

He hoped she would glance, inch, even lean in the direction of the talisman, but she stayed perfectly still, her gaze unwavering. “How did you get in here?” she asked.

Kell chewed his cheek. “You wouldn’t believe me,” he said dismissively.

She shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

He hesitated. She hadn’t flinched at the sight of his eye, and she hadn’t turned him in or called for help when he marched bloodstained through a wall and into her room. The Grey world knew so little of magic, had forgotten so much, but there was something in the girl’s gaze, a challenge that made him wonder if she would prove him wrong. If she could.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not,” he said, twining his fingers around the ropes binding him to the bed. “I want only to know my captor.”

She considered him a moment before answering. “Delilah Bard,” she said. “But Lila will do.” Lila. A soft name but she used it like a knife, slashing out on the first syllable, the second barely a whisper of metal through air. “And my captive?”

“Kell,” he said. “My name is Kell, and I come from another London, and I got into your room using magic.”

Sure enough, her lips quirked. “Magic,” she echoed drily.

“Yes,” he said. “Magic.” This time when he said the word, his grip tightened on the ropes and they caught fire and burned instantly to ash. A bit showy, perhaps, but it had the desired effect. Lila stiffened visibly in her chair as Kell sat fully upright on the bed. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, and he paused there, rubbing his wrists while he waited for the room to right itself.

“Specifically,” he said, “I used magic to make a door.”

He patted himself down and discovered that his knife was missing. She’d disarmed him. He frowned and swung his legs slowly off the bed, boots coming to rest against the floor. “When you picked my pocket in the alley, you gave me your kerchief. I was able to use it to make a door, one that led from me to you.” Which was, incidentally, much harder than it sounded. Doors were meant to lead to places, not people. It was only the second time Kell had ever successfully used his magic to find his way to someone. Not to mention, he had been bleeding power with every step. It had been too much. The last dregs of magic had gotten him here, and then …

“Another London,” said Lila.

“Yes.”

“And you made a door.”

“Yes.”

“Using magic.”

“Yes.” He met her eyes then, expecting confusion, skepticism, disbelief, and finding something else. She was staring at him blankly—no, not blankly. Her gaze was intense. Assessing. Kell hoped she wouldn’t ask for another demonstration. His power was only just trickling back, and he needed to save it.

She lifted a finger to the wall, where the ghosted echo of his door still lingered. “I guess that explains the mark.”

Kell frowned a little. Most people here couldn’t see the echoes of spellwork, or at least, they didn’t notice them. The marks, like most magic, passed beneath the spectrum of their senses.

“And the rock?” she asked.

“Magic,” he said. Black magic. Strong magic. Dead magic. “Bad magic.”

Finally, Lila slipped. For the briefest moment, her eyes flicked to a chest along the wall. Kell didn’t hesitate. He lunged for the top drawer, but before his fingers met the wood, a knife found his throat. It had come out of nowhere. A