Authors: Amanda Hocking
“What do you mean?” I asked, and continued our walk toward the north side of town.
“You just seemed to want to avoid her.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t like mixing business with family.”
“Why not?”
“She isn’t supportive of my job, for one thing,” I said, but that was only a half-truth.
“And what’s the other thing?” Linus pressed.
I glanced over at him, with his earnest eyes and genuine concern, and I decided to
tell the truth. “Most Markis and Marksinna don’t exactly approve of her.”
This seemed to totally baffle him, the way it would most people who saw past Mom’s
race to her kindness and strength and wit and beauty. But unfortunately, there were
very few Kanin who could do that.
“Why not?” Linus asked in disbelief.
“Because she’s Skojare, and I’m half Skojare.” I stopped walking and turned to him,
since the conversation felt like it required more attention.
He shrugged. “So?”
“So … Kanin tend to look down on anybody that isn’t Kanin, especially the royalty,”
I explained.
“That’s dumb.” He wrinkled his nose.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “But it’s the way things are.”
“Why don’t you change things?” Linus asked me directly, and for a second I had no
idea what to answer.
“I … I can’t,” I stumbled. “But you can. You’re part of an influential family. Someday
you may even be King. But even if you aren’t, you have the power to lead by example.”
“You really think I can change things?” Linus asked with wide eyes.
“I do,” I told him with a smile. “Now come on. Let’s see the rest of town.”
“So when you say people don’t approve of you, what does that mean?” Linus asked, falling
in step beside me. “Are they mean to you?”
I sighed. “I’d rather not get into it, if that’s okay.”
“All right,” he relented, but only for a second. “But you can tell me stuff. We’re
friends now.”
“Thanks, and I appreciate the sentiment, but … we can’t be friends,” I told him gently.
“What are you talking about? We
are
friends,” Linus insisted, and this time I didn’t have the heart to argue with him.
The fire crackled in my wood-burning stove, and I slipped out of my jeans—muddy and
wet from the walk around town with Linus. Wearing only my panties, I pulled on an
oversized sweatshirt and went over to my bookshelf. After a long day, the only thing
that sounded good to me was curling up in bed with a book.
I’d finally caved and texted Ember a few hours ago, but she hadn’t replied. So I needed
a good distraction. Most of the books I owned were old and worn, but I tried to pick
up a few new ones every time I went out on a mission. I’d hoped to restock my shelves
while I was in Chicago, but that trip had been cut too short.
Since I didn’t have anything new, I decided to reread one of my favorites—a battered
hardcover of
The Count of Monte Cristo
by Alexandre Dumas. It was wedged stubbornly between several other books, and I’d
just finally managed to pull it free when I heard the creak of my front door opening.
I whirled around, brandishing the book with the intention of bludgeoning an intruder
with it, but it was only Ridley, his black jacket hanging open and his hands held
palm-up toward me.
“Easy, Bryn. It’s just me.”
“Why are you sneaking up on me?” I demanded, refusing to lower my book.
“I’m not
sneaking
. I just step lightly.” He stayed in my doorway, letting a cold draft in around him.
“Can I come in?”
I was acutely aware of the way I was dressed—no pants, with the hem of the sweatshirt
hitting my midthigh, and the stretched-out neck left it hanging at an angle, revealing
my left shoulder and bra strap, along with the jagged scar that ran below it. But
I didn’t want to seem aware of this, tried to act as if it didn’t feel like a big
deal to be standing half naked in my small apartment alone with Ridley.
So instead of rushing over to put on pants or hiding underneath a blanket, I shrugged
and said, “I guess.”
“Thanks.” He came inside and closed the door behind him.
And then we stayed that way for a moment, neither of us saying anything. The only
light in the loft came from the dim fire and my bedside lamp, casting most of the
room in shadows. His eyes bounced around the room, never lingering on anything, and
he licked his lips but didn’t speak.
“Why are you here?” I asked finally, since it appeared he might never say anything.
“You never come to my apartment.”
“I’ve been here before,” he corrected me. He shoved a hand in the back pocket of his
jeans and shifted his weight.
I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t
usually
come here. Why are you here now?”
“Do you wanna sit down?” He motioned to the couch to the side of me, but I didn’t
move toward it.
“Why would I want to sit down? What’s going on?” My blood pressure had been steadily
rising since Ridley had opened the door, and my whole body began to tense up. “What
happened?”
“It’s nothing bad.” He exhaled deeply and brushed his dark curls back from his forehead.
“I mean, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Just spit it out, Ridley.”
“Ember ran into Konstantin Black on her mission.”
For a moment I couldn’t breathe, and I barely managed to get out the word, “What?”
“There was a small altercation, and she was hurt, but—”
That was all I heard, and all I needed to hear, and then I was scrambling to get out
of there. I tossed my book down on the couch and ran over to my dirty jeans in the
hamper.
“Bryn.” Ridley walked over to me, but I ignored him.
“I need to get to her, Ridley,” I said, nearly shouting by then, in a quavering voice.
“No, listen to me, Bryn.” He put his hands on my arms, and I suppressed the urge to
push him off and hit him. His grip felt solid and strangely comforting, so I looked
up at him and tried to slow my ragged breaths.
“Ember is okay.” Ridley spoke slowly, his words clear and calm. “She was injured,
but it’s nothing critical, and she managed to get out with the changeling. She’s on
her way home, and she’ll be here tomorrow morning. You don’t need to go after her.”
I breathed deeply, letting his words sink in, and then I nodded. “She’s okay?”
“Yes, I talked to her on the phone, and she sounded good.” He smiled crookedly, trying
to reassure me.
“What about Konstantin?”
Ridley didn’t answer immediately, but he didn’t look away, so I searched his eyes,
looking for a glimmer of hope, but found none. His smile fell away, and I knew the
answer.
“He got away,” I surmised.
“The important thing is that both Ember and the changeling are safe,” Ridley reminded
me.
“I know.”
I pulled away from him, and at first he tried to hang on, but then he let his hands
fall to his sides. I ran a hand through my hair and sat back on the bed behind me.
My legs felt weak, and my shoulders ached. The sudden surge of anxiety and adrenaline,
followed by the news of Ember’s injury and Konstantin’s escape, left me feeling sore
and out of sorts.
“I should’ve been there,” I said softly.
“No.” Ridley shook his head and came over to sit down next to me.
My legs dangled over the edge of the bed as I stared emptily at the wall in front
of me, but Ridley sat so he was facing me. He rested one hand on the bed, supporting
himself, and his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my thigh.
“Why did you send her and not me?” I turned to look at him, and he was so close, I
could see my own reflection in his eyes.
“I knew she could handle it, and she did,” Ridley said.
“But you didn’t think I could.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then why didn’t you send me?” I asked thickly.
He swallowed, but his dark eyes never wavered from mine. “You know why.”
“I could’ve gone with. I could’ve helped her. If I had been there, maybe she wouldn’t
have gotten hurt. Konstantin wouldn’t have gotten away.”
“Or maybe things could’ve gone much worse,” Ridley countered. “You don’t know what
would’ve happened, and everything turned out okay.”
“No, it didn’t. He got away.
Again
.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault! Because I should’ve been there, and not here doing nothing.” I looked
away from him, staring down at my lap. “I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”
“Bryn.” He reached out, putting his hand gently on my face and making me look at him.
“It’s not your fault. You did everything you were supposed to do. Konstantin Black
isn’t your fault.”
“Then why does it feel like he is?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know.” He brushed his thumb along my cheek, and I closed my eyes, leaning
into his touch.
His other hand moved, so that his fingers were no longer brushing against my thigh,
and he pressed it against the small of my back. I felt the bed shifting, and even
though my eyes were closed, I knew he was leaning in toward me.
“You should go,” I whispered, too afraid to open my eyes and see his face hovering
next to mine.
“You sure?” Ridley asked, but he lowered his hand, and I felt the weight on the bed
change as he moved away from me. I finally dared to open my eyes, and he was still
sitting next to me, looking at me with an expression filled with concern.
“If Ember’s coming back in the morning, I should get some sleep.”
“But are you even gonna get any sleep tonight?” Ridley asked me honestly.
I gave a weak laugh. “I don’t know.”
“I could stay, keep you company until you fell asleep.”
I didn’t need him. Or at least I didn’t want to need him. But I didn’t want to push
him away. Not tonight.
“Okay.” I nodded, giving in to my feelings for him, at least in some small way.
“Good.” He smiled, then slipped off his jacket. “When I came in, it looked like you
were grabbing a book.”
“Yeah, I was just gonna read before I went to bed.”
“Perfect.” He stood up. “You go ahead, crawl into bed and get comfy.”
“Okay?” I was skeptical, but I did as he told me, sliding under the thick covers and
lying back in my bed.
“Here’s what I’ll do,” Ridley explained as he grabbed
The Count of Monte Cristo
from where I’d tossed it on the couch. “I’ll read, you relax and fall asleep. Sound
like a plan?”
I smiled up at him as he walked back toward me. “Sure.”
He sat down on the bed beside me, over the covers with his legs stretched out next
to mine, and he cracked open the book and began to read. Eventually his gentle baritone
lulled me to sleep. I didn’t actually remember falling asleep, but when I awoke with
the early morning light spilling in through the windows, my head was on his chest
and his arm was around me.
“I just can’t believe she didn’t call me,” I muttered.
The Land Rover lurched to the side, and I jerked the wheel, correcting it just in
time to keep us from slamming into one of the willow hybrids. Yesterday’s early thaw
had left puddles and melting snow everywhere that turned into ice today, making the
road out of Doldastam more treacherous than normal.
Not that that slowed me down. Ember had texted me thirty minutes ago, letting me know
that her train was almost to the station. I still wasn’t sure how badly she’d been
injured, and I didn’t know if driving would be difficult or painful for her.
I’d been at Tilda’s house—that had been my excuse to escape a rather awkward morning
conversation with Ridley, saying that I’d promised to have breakfast with Tilda. I
hadn’t, but Tilda was who I ran to when I needed to gather my thoughts and get my
wits about me. It’d worked out, because then Ember had texted me, and within minutes
Tilda and I were racing to meet her at the train station.
“I’m sure she had her reasons.” Tilda pressed her hands against the dashboard to keep
from sliding all over as the Land Rover bounced down the road.
“She just lectured me about not calling her after my run-in with Konstantin, and then
she turns around and does the same thing.”
“Maybe Ember was afraid that you would freak out.” Tilda let out a small groan when
we hit a bump and she bounced into the air. “And I haven’t the faintest idea why,”
she added drolly and shot me a look.
“I’m not freaking out,” I protested, but I slowed down a bit. “She still should’ve
called me.”
“But she called Ridley, and she’s safe, and that’s what counts,” Tilda reminded me.
We’d gotten far enough from Doldastam that trees were no longer crowding the path,
and the road had widened and smoothed some, so she relaxed back in her seat.
“On the subject of Ridley,” Tilda began, and I groaned inwardly. In my telling her
about Ember’s injury over oatmeal this morning, I’d let it slip that Ridley had spent
the night, then Ember had texted me and we’d been on our way.
I tried to evade the question. “There is no subject of Ridley.”
“But he did spend the night last night,” she said carefully, making sure her words
had no trace of accusation.
“He did, but nothing happened. It wasn’t like that.”
“Okay,” Tilda relented, but I wasn’t completely sure if she believed me. Hell, I wasn’t
sure if
I
believed me.
We lapsed into silence after that, so I turned up the music. Thanks to my earlier
speeding, we managed to arrive at the station just as the train was pulling in. We’d
made the trek in record time.
Ember hobbled off the platform, and her coat hung on her at a haphazard angle thanks
to the sling around her arm, which appeared to be made from a couple different fashion
scarves. A graze on her left cheek was red and puffy, but otherwise she didn’t look
that much worse for wear.