through his pockets. “I have other business to take care of.”
“None that involve certain contestants?”
Not anymore. Daron promptly scribbled his room number on the white card beside his plate as payment, before a vivid flash of Kallia resurfaced: her, opening the door last night. Her eyes, that fear. It all carved into him like a warning. His hand stayed clawed at the back of his chair. “Aaros, from what I’ve seen of you, you’re a very capable assistant who’s loyal to his magician.”
“You flatter me, but yes, I’m quite fantastic.” Aaros gave a flutter of his fingers. “So?”
“I hope you’ll be discreet. I’m not sure what your boss would think of what I’m going to tell you.”
“Kallia’s got enough secrets to fill the sky. I’m dying for some dirt of my own.”
“It’s not dirt. It’s about her, and it’s something you should be aware of,” Daron explained. “Something I’ve been concerned with ever since last night.”
Intrigued, the assistant leaned forward, eager to hear. And once he did, it would be his mystery to solve. His worry, not Daron’s. “Don’t get any funny ideas about this—but I went to see Kallia last night at your suite.”
Aaros’s lips moved in the barest hint of a twitch. “To what end, judge?”
“Certainly not what you think.” At the suggestion in his tone, Daron bristled. “I heard noises, coming from your room. Violent crashes and bangs like … like the room was being tossed upside down.”
“Everything was fine when I arrived.” Aaros shrugged. “You sure it wasn’t from the party downstairs? Things got pretty rowdy.”
“No, I know what I heard. And I heard a scream.”
The assistant stilled, though his fingers had begun tapping a light, persistent rhythm on the table. “And you went to explore?” Aaros’s brow arched. “I’ll let you in on something: Kallia is brilliant, but strange. Half the time, I don’t know if she really aims to win this competition or plan world domination. For all we know, she could’ve been practicing her tricks—”
“Trust me, I know.” And Daron had had enough. No more tricks. No more inserting himself into situations that would only lead him down paths he didn’t want to go. He’d come to Glorian for Eva. Nothing else. “Still, the whole thing left me uneasy.”
“If Kallia needs help, she’ll ask for it. Though I doubt she ever will. She can take care of herself.”
“You didn’t see her face when she opened the door.” Daron quieted, her dark eyes still cutting him. Even from memory. “It was filled with a certain kind of terror—as if the worst thing that could ever happen finally did, and there was nothing she could do about it.”
“And how would you know a thing like that?”
Because Daron had once seen the look before.
On his own face, in the mirror, after his last performance had taken the most important person in his life.
20
It had been days since Kallia stepped outside and breathed in the frost of the Glorian air. Her numbed senses, dulled from rest, sparked alive at the cold. The scent of ice.
She wrapped her coat tighter around her as she walked from the hotel, the most activity she’d engaged in after locking herself in her room for days. Normally she knew how to stave off the drain of energy that came from casting larger magic—ice baths and sleep, with enough sweets to sugar-coat her teeth—but this fatigue had gone deeper than flesh. Fear made sure of it.
It was impossible not to imagine Jack everywhere. At every corner, within every shadow. He hadn’t reappeared since that night, but he’d gotten what he wanted: her, always looking over her shoulder, unable to breathe for she felt him all around her like smoke now.
Kallia’s fists tightened as she shoved them into her pockets, resolute. If he couldn’t take her back to the House when she’d refused, then something was stopping him. She still had time.
Determination fired in her veins as she continued down the sidewalk. She ignored all the stares, more so than usual, though she’d worn nothing to deserve them. Her modest long brown coat itched—the warmest she could coax out of Ira’s shop—and yet it earned her more attention than when she’d first arrived on these gloomy streets in a storm of color.
A bespectacled boy with soot-smudged cheeks nearly stumbled onto Kallia’s path. His eyes brightened with recognition. “Y-you’re that magician lady, right?” He tipped his ratty cap in her direction. “Brilliant show you put on last week.”