unable to understand that. To Damascus, power was everything—and that would give Rune a chance to destroy her.
For sure, Damascus wasn’t the only bad guy. She wasn’t the only horror in the power play for Skyll.
Rune would have to cling to her values, her world, her people. She’d have to fight to remember who she was.
Because the witch was her mother.
And there wasn’t anything she’d ever wanted more than that.
Chapter Thirty-Six
She and Lawrence climbed carpeted stairs that seemed unending, and the higher they climbed, the more tired Rune became.
Her eyes were heavy, so heavy. She was tempted to fall upon the stairs, curl up, and sleep.
So sleepy.
Nothing would have felt better.
But she was stronger than that.
He led her to a lavish, overdone suite that had the sort of décor Nicolas Llodra might have appreciated.
Rune’s yawn nearly cracked her jaws, even as her heavy-lidded stare caressed the high bed. It was covered with lush pillows and thick spreads, and she’d never seen anything more inviting in her life.
“Shall I have a tray sent up, Princess?” Then he paled and slapped his fingers over his mouth.
Rune frowned at the abject terror in his eyes. “It’s okay, dude.”
“So sorry,” he whispered, over and over. He dug at his face with his nails, leaving bloody furrows. “So sorry.”
Rune shook some of the cobwebs from her mind and grabbed his hands to pull them away from his abused skin. “She really is an evil bitch, isn’t she?”
He took a step back. “Please. Please, no.”
“I’m not going to tell on you.”
Unable to speak, he finally turned and ran away.
Evil bitch indeed.
Not that she’d doubted it. Not really.
Damascus was her enemy. Damascus was everybody’s enemy.
Rune would have to fight her.
She’d have to kill her.
And that broke the heart of the little girl inside her.
Maybe, that little girl whispered, maybe you won’t.
But she would.
She’d kill the witch and then walk the path to save Lex.
Lex was waiting.
She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that Lex might already be dead.
“Clothes for you,” a tall woman said, striding through the doorway. “If these are not acceptable, I will fetch something else. The witch will have you outfitted with proper clothing in short order. I hope these will do for now.” She didn’t smile and didn’t change expressions, just stared over Rune’s head and waited.
Her eyes were blank.
Dead inside. She’s dead inside.
“Thanks, Dari,” Rune said, as the woman placed the clothing on the dresser.
Dari strode to the bed, tossed some pillows to the floor, and turned back the covers. She turned to Rune. “Sleep. I will wake you in a while.”
God, the temptation. But Rune knew if she lay down in that bed, she wasn’t getting back up. Not for a long, long time.
She refused to sleep while the world fell down around her. While Z was lost to her once again.
Damascus had hit her with a spell, obviously. And if the witch wanted her to sleep, that was the last thing Rune was going to do.
“You can go,” Rune said.
Dari inclined her head. “If there’s anything you need, you have only to call out.” Then she backed from the room.
Rune shrugged the witch’s cloak from her shoulders and dressed quickly, barely glancing at the clothes as she pulled on a white tank, a black sweater, and a pair of loose black cotton pants. There were black low-heeled ankle boots, which were only a little too big, and a rather thin black jacket with deep pockets and sleeves so long she was forced to roll the cuffs back to keep them from hanging past her fingertips.
She shot out her claws, moaning a little with the joy of it.
And she shook the fogginess from her brain.
I am my monster.
My monster is me.
And they were both stronger than a fucking sleep spell.
Then she pulled her claws back in and slipped from the room, her heart thumping hard against her chest.
She wasn’t sure what she needed to do, but she wasn’t going to find out hiding in her room.
The crawlers had hurt her badly enough to make her weak, to make her need the witch who’d saved her.
To make her need a mother, even if she was a vicious black-hearted—
“Princess.”
She whirled toward the voice, her claws out before was aware she’d released them. The hallway was full of shadowed crevices and closed doors, and intricate tapestries covered most of the walls.
“Yeah?” she said, probing the dark corners with her narrowed gaze.
The voice had come from behind one of the tapestries she’d just passed.