Chapter 22

I didn't hear the door slam shut. Didn't hear his footsteps recede down the hall, back the way he'd come. I only heard the rushing of blood in my ears and the thundering of my heart in my chest and the tiny shallow gasps of breath that shook me as I lay on the floor.

I missed who I used to be. Once, not long ago, fear used to fear me. Now I couldn’t even remember that girl’s power, let alone her essence. She was gone. And all that remained was the frail, weakened version of who I once was. I hate this.

Time collapsed around me, like a building crumbling in slow motion. Pieces of memories, of me, falling soundlessly to the depths below. I could not see the bottom. My mother. Her home. The destruction I’d caused. And Lorelei. Always Lorelei. Once again, she roamed free with two protectors by her side, while I sat alone, fighting for emancipation.

When the door opened, and Peterson entered, I stood up immediately, drawing myself as tall as I could.

“Hm. No blade today. Pity.” I tilted my head, and my hair tumbled across my shoulder in matted curls. “Is today finally the day you tell me what you’re planning?”

Peterson dragged in two metal chairs, placed one in front of me, and settled himself in the other. “Sit down, Venus.”

I blew out a frustrated sigh, then perched on the chair opposite him. “I’m sitting. Start talking.” I cocked my head with a sweet smile. “Pretty please.”

“You are here in part because of your sister.”

Of course this was her fault. Wasn’t every disaster in my life? “My sister?” I scoffed. “I could have saved you some time and effort. My sister and I aren’t exactly... sisterly.”

“We know all of that, Venus.” Peterson’s tone was clipped. “You wanted answers, so I suggest you be quiet and listen to them.”

I leaned back and folded my arms, envisioning the myriad of ways I’d set him ablaze if only I had access to magic.

“We tried to stop your sister from returning to the Nevermore. Tried to keep her from helping them. I personally tried to offer her sanctuary from all of this,” he said. “She chose them instead of us, proving she’s more like them than we had feared.”

Peterson stood up and walked behind his chair, leaning his elbows against the back. “If she accepts her role as their Faerie queen, our problems will only be amplified. And so it is to her we need to demonstrate our point. She may not be with the enemy, but she is most certainly not with us.” His hands clasped behind his back, and he paced a few leisurely steps. “But, we also know she is loyal and protective of everyone else here in this world. Regardless of her poor choices, this is still her home. We are banking on that holding true once she receives our message.”

I folded my arms. “If you think my sister is going to save you from anything, then you’re idiots, all of you. The darkness of my world will eat you up and spit you out before my sister could get her backside out of bed in the morning.”

“We have no need for her to fight our battles. But as we alluded to, a battle is coming. We’d all best be prepared for it.”

“And is that what I am? Part of your preparations?”

“What an eloquent way of putting it.”

Peterson reached into his coat and unfolded a square of fabric.

“Get dressed.” He tossed a plain brown gown on my lap. “Our leader wishes to speak with you now, and you certainly cannot go looking like that.” His mouth twisted in disgust.

It made me want to peel the disapproval right off that face, and if it took skin along with it, all the better. I gritted my teeth and picked up the garment. A simple gown of simple fabric. Suitable for a peasant or a prisoner. Both of which I was, for the time being.

I was eager to meet this leader Peterson referred to. I'd entertained countless ways to end my captors' lives. Each one gorier than the last. But in order to make any one of those visions come true, I had to be free from this room and set eyes upon my invisible host myself. My main target.

Peterson left, slamming the door behind him.

I rolled my eyes, fingering the gown I was to wear. “We’ll call you vengeance,” I whispered to the dress. Soon enough I would have it, and with it, my freedom. And once I was home, I’d be clinging to that freedom. If any of them believed I'd return to Oberon's tower after this, they were fools. I was done being at the mercy of others. That had been my entire existence. No more.

Disrobing in the cold, damp room, I unlaced the ties binding my shift. My hands trembled at first, but I soothed myself with knowing it wasn’t from fear but from eager anticipation. I held onto that thought with a fresh resolution. They will pay.

Chills chased across my skin, raising millions of tiny bumps, as I slipped the gown over my head and buttoned it. I smoothed my hands over the stiff, thin fabric and caught my reflection in the silver doorknob. My face was pale, my hair a tangled mess of dark red knots, like clotted blood, my eyes, dark and sunken. I looked ill.

I swore to Zanthiel I would not harm another human. But tonight, I intended to break that oath.

****

Peterson blindfolded me before he led me down long, cold hallways. My bare feet slapped the tile floor and grew more numb with every step.

Finally, we arrived. The blindfold was lifted, and I was face to face with the head of the snake. The one behind this whole debacle.

I was in an office, windowless and gloomy, with ebony wood floors and ebony wood furniture. The man I assumed was in charge sat in an oversized armchair behind his ebony desk on the far side of the room. Flanking his sides were Callum and another guard, who was entirely engulfed by shadow.

I approached with cautious steps, not only because that was the safest way to approach a snake, but because the lighting was dim, and his face was half hidden by shade.

“You've returned to your home.” The snake-man spoke with the hint of an accent.

I lifted my chin. “I am not one of those lost girls searching for a new identity. I have a home. This is not it.”

“Yes, I hear you are a formidable witch. With dark power unmatched by any of your kind.”

I gave a sharp smile. “You flatter me. However, better not to believe everything you hear. Gossip-mongers love to spread all sorts of tall tales.”

He studied me for a long time without speaking, then said, “You puzzle me. You're here, as my prisoner, and yet you regard me with such blazing defiance. How is that? How is it you do not fear me, or what I could easily do to someone like you, with her magic all locked up?” His lips quirked.

I narrowed my eyes and gave a shrug. “I've encountered far more powerful beings than you in my world. You're little more than a human who’s convinced other humans of your importance and worth, which has obviously resulted in your overly inflated ego.”

In an instant, Callum was at my side, gripping my arm. “You'll not speak to him like that.”

I refrained from pulling back, but when my eyes landed on his fingers digging into my arm, I pictured shattering each and every bone. Fortunately, he released me.

“Enough. Enough. Allegiance is not something that can be forced upon someone. Least of all someone who truly has no idea who I am.” He returned his attention to me, leaning forward. “Or my importance or worth.” He steepled his fingers under his chin and leaned back. “Or of my powers.”

“This is no mere mortal you're dealing with here, witch.” Callum hissed in my ear. “He is a descendant of true royalty.”

I stared harder. Something in the man’s eyes bore a faint resemblance... to what, I wasn't sure.

“Descended from which royalty?” I asked. “Where I come from, you can throw a stick and hit someone with claims to one monarchy or another.”

“From a family line you are very familiar with, I understand,” the head of the snake said.

My brows arched. I looked over at Peterson, then Callum and the mystery guard in the shadows, before turning back to the mystery man behind the desk. “Well, please, do end the mystery. It’s hard being the only one in the room in the dark. Who are you?”

The man rose. Suddenly, everyone was standing at attention in front of him. Even the guard hidden in shadows came forward to stand before him.

His face came into full view, and I sucked in a horrified gasp. This was the voice I’d recognized the night they attacked me here. It was Luc.

I lurched forward but was firmly pulled back.

Luc avoided looking at me, but he had to feel the heat of my wrath boring into him as he bowed before this man.

My insides reeled as I struggled to piece things together. But the head of the snake was still speaking, and his revelation halted my train of thought.

I frowned a little as the monster behind all of this grew more and more familiar. I knew this man. His olive gaze and eloquent accent reminded of someone I knew well.

As everyone in the room bowed, I remained upright, waiting for him to end the mystery. Who was he?

The snake’s head spoke. “I was known as Prince Galinar of the Elyssium Court. That was long ago, in a former life.” He leaned against his desk and gestured for the others to stand at ease. “Here, in this new life, I'm known by my human name. Doctor Greenbalm.”