my life for the second time.
With her absence—with her escape, that horrifying voice whispered inside of me—control was suddenly much harder to come by. Red tendrils dripped across my vision and threatened to pull me under, but I focused on the sable shadows and called them to me instead. Begged them to cling to my senses and dull the hammering, intoxicating bloody mess festering in my mind. They obeyed, and the foreign anger subsided to a dull roar at the same time Iky, Calem, and Gaige slipped through the portal.
The beast disappeared.
“Holy fuck,” Emelia let out in a rush. My attention snapped back to her. Fingers steeped in shadows, she remained perched on the edge of summoning a weapon. “What the hell just happened?”
Gritting my teeth, I brushed aside her inquiry. “Where’s Darrien?”
“I’m right here.” Stepping through the doorway with Iov, Astrid, and Quintus at his side, Darrien clasped his hands in front of him. Iov’s glittering ax was flush against his chest, and Astrid had a small blade just barely holding form pressed against Quintus’s jugular. She also fisted Darrien’s bow at her side, keeping his corporeal weapon out of reach. Not like he’d need it. He could summon a blade faster than Astrid could blink.
I jerked my chin toward the intruders, and Emelia rushed to her brother’s side, adding her own halberd to the back of Darrien’s neck. Poised for the guillotine.
He didn’t seem fazed. Shadows flirted with the curls of his hair and slithered over his clothing. Amber eyes full of malice glinted beneath heavy brows. Darrien let out a pitying sigh, tossing a curious glance at Astrid.
“Back to raising, I see.”
“You would know,” I said, voice icy. My gaze slanted to Quintus, who withered beneath my stare.
“He was a friend beforehand. Can’t blame him for seeing my side of things.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t execute you right here. After I explicitly told you never to come near Cruor again.” Kost and Ozias flanked my sides. Shadows spired in their auras, forming endless rows of blades just waiting for my signal. Waiting to do our bidding.
Kill.
Maybe I would.
Darrien eyed the empty chair where Gaige had been working. “We should talk first.”
My lips curled. “I’m not interested in talking.”
“I’m not looking to fight anymore.” Darrien worked his throat in a hard swallow. “May I sit?”
“You have two minutes.”
Darrien stepped out of reach of Iov and Emelia and sank onto the chair. “You can dismiss them. We both know that you could kill me faster than they could.”
As irritating as it was, he was right. “Then your new lackey leaves too.”
He barely deigned to shoot Quintus a glance, but gestured over his shoulder with lazy fingers. The newly raised assassin looked all too pleased to disappear. He rushed from the library and headed for the main doors.
“You three, keep him outside at the gate,” I said to Emelia, Iov, and Astrid, and they sank into the world of shadows, leaving Darrien alone with me, Kost, and Ozias. None of us moved. Shadows trailed from our frames and crept along the floors toward Darrien. He’d never escape all of us.
Propping his arm on the table, he scattered a few papers and nudged a book. His gaze shifted to the tomes and inkwells. “Doing a bit of light reading?”
“What do you want?” I slipped my hands into my pockets. They itched to wrap around his neck, and I couldn’t trust them not to act of their own accord.
His fingers dawdled across the open pages. “To make a deal.”
My eyes narrowed. Darrien had always been calm. Self-assured. When he wanted something, he demanded it. But the way he was fidgeting now… It didn’t fit. What was he really after?
“Get the hell out,” Ozias snapped.
“You can’t undo what you’ve done.” Kost’s nostrils flared. “Leave before it’s too late.”
Heat simmered beneath Darrien’s words. “I was here before any of you even took your first breath.” Tempering his rage, he inhaled sharply. “Talmage was a close friend. Why he named you leader…I will never know. But it’s out of respect for him that I’m here now. And I’m imploring you to consider my request for our people. His people.”
“What are you getting at?” My nails elongated, forming tight points and scraping against my pockets. One slit and the blood would flow. A single blade could notch his skin, and he’d be mine to command.
No. Gods. It was getting easy, too easy, to fall back on the possibility of exerting my control over someone else. When