thumb over her mouth, parting her lips.
“Stop,” Lilac demanded against his finger, forcing bravery into her voice so its wavering was less noticeable. Bastion was repulsive—nearly but not quite as much as Sinclair—and reminded her of every nightmare she’d had as a child. Unlike the coniferous and alluringaroma of his brother, Bastion reeked of wet blood and the incense used at funeral rites.
“Get your vile hands off me.”
As if he could read her mind, he chuckled darkly. “Don’t go flattering yourself, human. Whereas it is obvious my brother is torn between the urge to kiss or drain you, I am only interested in the latter. I don’t associate myself with mortals and even if I did, you’re not at all my cup of tea.”
He released her with one last look of disdain and sauntered forward to thump Garin on the back. “Right, big brother. I suppose I’ll be a good old lad and occupy myself with tracking the rogue vampire. What shall I do once she’s found?”
“Do what you would normally do for a new fledgling.”
“Kill it?”
Garin shot him a warning look.
“Fine.” He dismissively waved a hand.
Lilac sized Bastion up as he passed her.
“If you know what’s good for you,” he muttered, ignoring Garin’s warning look. “You’ll take good care to watch the sort of company you keep.”
With a scorching parting glance, Bastion was gone.
The moon hung low as Lilac stared at the lake, the reflection painting a near perfect replica of the luminous crescent and its breathtaking stars. Without a single ripple to dent it, she could’ve set a goblet upon its pristine surface. Lilac peered down at her face, expecting to see fine lines after her journey so far. Or maybe a gauntness to her cheeks from the lack of regular meals. But instead of the imperfections she dreaded, her features appeared softer, even enchanting in the moonlight.
Her eyes were most noticeable. The biggest difference of all lay not in their sudden clarity; their usual childlike apprehension had shifted to a dark indigo—the swirling resolve of an explorer navigating treacherous seas.
Perhaps Brocéliande had driven her mad, after all.
It was an illusion. It was perfect—too perfect, unlike anything that had ever concerned her. Lilac extended a hand to touch the surface, driven by the reckless urge to break the tranquil plane. Fingers caked in flaking brown reached for her reflection, and with a start, she realized they were her own. She frowned. In all the commotion, she’d forgotten about the dried blood covering most of her upper body. She suppressed a shiver and hastily scooped a handful of water to rub her palms in. Once they were clean, she ran her wet hands over the sides of her throat; the blood there was thicker, and there was a lot more of it. The lake water soaked into the dampened front of her dress, and she cursed as endless rivulets of dull burgundy came off onto her fingertips.
Between Piper and Kestrel, she had no idea how much blood she’d lost. It was a miracle she hadn’t lost consciousness. Lilac’s fingers brushed against the scabbed cuts left by Piper’s teeth. She whirled when something shifted in the branches behind her.
“Must you?” Garin’s cutting voice floated down from the trees. When she ignored him, he loudly cleared his throat.
After he’d given her space to fume—after the hysteria from being portaled twice by the faerie king had worn off—she’d fallen for the lure of the lake, somehow forgetting all about him. By the time
she spotted him, he perched on the low bough of a tree.
She frowned. “If you think I’m going to acknowledge you after everything, you are highly mistaken.” With a haughty lift of her chin, she returned to the business of cleansing her wound.
“I already told you, I was only trying to convince him that I was on his side, so that he’d release us,” he said quietly. “I had to take that chance. These Fair Folk thrive on chaos. Seeing the plain horror on your face was enough to please him.”
Lilac gave a disjointed grunt.
“You know what? Believe whatever you want, I won’t argue,” he grumbled, watching intently as she then brought water to the neck of her dress.
It was freezing.
“Seems like a lost cause, doesn’t it?”
Lilac paused, straightening. “Excuse me?”
“You’re only soaking your dress further. You’ve re-dampened the dried blood and made it even more pungent.”
Anger spiked through Lilac. He was laughing. After all they’d been through in the past forty-eight hours, Garin had the big-headed audacity to laugh