an eyebrow. “You want me to go to the king?”
She held his gaze for a long time, something dangerous sparking through the air between them.
“If not, then we need to reevaluate our understanding,” she said. There was steel in her voice.
He looked as if she’d slapped him. “Understood,” he said, voice strained.
She turned to Pelageya, who grinned. “Tension in the ranks, how exciting. You’re on the right track, now it just needs some dramatics.”
28
NADEZHDA
LAPTEVA
Svoyatova Alevtina Polacheva: A cleric of Marzenya, she was an assassin who seemed to be more skilled at the art of death than the art of magic. She lost her life on a mission to Tranavia, killed by heretic blood mages.
—Vasiliev’s Book of Saints
“I need to speak with on yaliknevi for just a bit,” Nadya told the others, ignoring the brief flicker of agony that crossed Malachiasz’s face as she used his damn honorific.
What Nadya always had to her advantage was the element of surprise. When she slammed Malachiasz into the railing of the stairs to the tower, he seemed genuinely shocked.
“Nadya, please,” he said through gritted teeth as she hooked her leg around his to make it easier to topple him over the side if she felt like it.
“Have you ever told me the truth?” She could feel her power swirling in her veins and it was a terrifying thought that she could so easily use it on him now. “How did the prince recognize you?”
“How he knew my name, I have no idea,” Malachiasz said. He strained against her, but after realizing it was fruitless he relaxed into it, letting his head fall back. He hung, bent backwards over the railing, one foot and Nadya’s hand gripping his shirt all that kept him from toppling over the side. “It was your spell that left the loophole that those who were not our enemies would be able to see me.”
“So the prince has become our ally?” Nadya asked incredulously.
“Apparently. But this isn’t why you’re angry with me.”
She pushed him back a little farther. His grounded foot slipped and he jerked, his hands scrambling to grasp at the railings.
“You lied to me,” she said through clenched teeth. “You made me believe you were nothing but a boy, scared and in over his head, when you were the worst of them the whole time.”
He sighed heavily. “Yes.”
“Why?” Her voice cracked. She hated that he could affect her like this.
“Because I’m scared and in over my head,” he murmured. “I also happen to be the worst of them. Nadya, please let me stand.” His tone was weary. “I appreciate the threat, but I would survive this fall. You did better last time.”
She took a step back, allowing him to straighten, before punching him in the face.
He staggered back against the railing again, laughing as he wiped blood from his bleeding nose. “I deserved that.”
“You deserve more than that,” Nadya said. “I should have dropped you.”
He looked down, considering the fall. She shook her head, glanced at the door, then started down the steps. She needed to talk to him where there was less of a chance of the prince hearing. He was silent, trailing behind her until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Nadya grabbed the doorknob and that was when he finally spoke.
“Nadya, there was no other way.”
It was her turn to be silent. She moved to open the door, but his hand landed over hers. She was very aware of his body close to hers, the heat of him at her back.
“Monsters are real, and I am their king.” His voice was low, a whisper, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “We both know lying was the only way to earn your trust.”
She wanted to shove him away; she wanted him closer. That always seemed to be the crux of it. She didn’t know what she wanted. Why hadn’t the revelation cut whatever was tying her to this boy? Why did she feel herself leaning back against him?
“Was my trust really that essential?”
“Nadezhda Lapteva…” His hand slipped up her arm. She felt his other hand against her waist. Hearing her full name spoken with his Tranavian accent made her shiver. “More than you even realize, towy d?imyka.”
She let out a shaky breath. His hand slid up her neck, tilting her head back. His lips pressed against her throat, sparks igniting underneath his touch.
Her resolve was fighting a losing battle. It surrendered when he lifted his head and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“This isn’t