Bloodtraitor (16 page)

“I KNOW YOU.”

Ashley tried to ignore the cobra when she spoke. She had been ordered to tend the newcomer's wounds, nothing else. She didn't even want to look into the woman's eyes.

“Alasdair.”

That name. How she hated that name now! It brought nothing but memories of pain, guilt, and self-loathing.

“Don't you remember me?” Why did people keep
asking
that? “We've spoken a dozen times,” the woman insisted. “Just last fall, we talked for an hour about my mate, Jabari, and your search for an—”

“Stop it!” Ashley hissed, looking up at the serpent's jewel-bright eyes. “I'm not that woman anymore. I don't want to talk about her.”

Instead of relenting, the cobra's gaze widened with triumph. “Do broken slaves often
want
things?” she asked. “You remember who you were. Admit it.”

“If I admit it, will you be quiet?”

The cobra tilted her head as she considered, and then winced as if the movement hurt. “If you remember who you are, why do you stay here?” Hara asked. “Why do you let him do this to you?”

Hara was a shapeshifter. She wouldn't die of her wounds or get an infection.

Master Gabriel would understand.

Ashley walked out, and locked the door behind her.

As I contemplated Hara's situation and Alasdair's state, I realized the serpiente princess had seen the same things I had. She had been just as certain as I was that “Ashley” wasn't all that was left of the hawk princess.

Now, how was I supposed to get her out of Midnight before the fire came?

I shoved that thought aside as I stepped back into the living room, only to find Jaguar seated with his feet up on the coffee table, looking directly at me.

“It's funny,” the trainer said, never taking his eyes off my frozen form, “but when Gabriel asked me to check in on his cobra while he was gone, he neglected to mention that you might drop by.”

I needed a good excuse, and I needed it immediately.

Nothing came to mind.

Think, Malachi!

Jaguar stood, and pushed past me as he walked into the bedroom. For an instant I thought I had been miraculously dismissed, but when I tried to slink away he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me after him. I caught his hand in mine, but I couldn't do anything to escape.

Fighting my way out wouldn't be wise even if I could. All the white-viper magic in the world would not keep a trainer from catching me if I tried to run. That was their nature. Even if he didn't intend to harm me yet, he would be forced to make a point if I challenged him.

My heart nearly stopped when he asked Ashley, “Are you all right?”

If she told him what I had said, I was a dead man. No, worse than a dead man. Dead men couldn't feel pain.

“I am fine,” the hawk answered. Was it just wishful thinking that I perceived dislike in her clipped, careful voice? There was no way for me to know her motivation, only that she did not volunteer more of an answer. Hopefully the trainer would refrain from asking anything like, “What did he say to you?”

Still bringing me with him, Jaguar reached to the black key I had been interested in not long ago. This time, Ashley did not speak up; either he had permission to be back there, or she knew better than to argue with a trainer. As for me, I absolutely did not want to follow Jaguar into that horrific place, but there was no way to escape unless he released me.

He let me go once we were across the threshold. In Jeshickah's disturbing style, the floors were exotic marble, polished smooth, lovely unless you had personal experience to tell you they looked just as beautiful with an added splash of red.

Too many memories distracted me at first, keeping me from tracking Jaguar as he crossed the cell and cautiously approached a figure hunched in the far corner.

I knew from my brother that these cells were cold, even in summer. That chill could sap the energy from a serpent, who relied on heat in the air to warm the body.

Hara Kiesha Cobriana lifted her head groggily and stared at Jaguar for a long time, as if unsure where she was or who he was…or who she was? I didn't know. Was this a fugue left by the trainer's work, or just too much time without warmth and proper rest? This cell was not cold enough to kill her, and unlike a human, a shapeshifter couldn't get sick, which meant keeping her here like this would make her docile without endangering her life.

I wasn't sure what Jaguar was looking for, but he didn't wait for Hara to fully rouse before he turned and led us both back out. I heard Hara call after us as we left, but already the heavy door was closing, locking her away again.

“What were you after, Malachi?” Jaguar asked me, now that he had established that both of Gabriel's valuable pets were accounted for.

“I don't know,” I answered.

The response earned me a backhand that sent me stumbling into the wall. What was I supposed to have said?
I came here to kidnap Master Gabriel's beloved hawk,
seemed like a bad idea.
I don't know
sounded stupid, but at least that was in line with what most of the trainers expected from me.

Jaguar had known me when I was a child, unable to understand simple commands or speak in anything but nonsensical garbage. If I held to the wide-eyed line of
I don't know,
he would believe me. Eventually.

Unfortunately, he didn't keep talking to
me.
He asked Ashley, “What did he do when he came in?”

She didn't know me, or owe me any loyalty. In fact, if she had known me, she would have owed me only hatred for the part I played in bringing her here. So I could not feel betrayed when she said, “He spoke to me, and then he tried to open the cell door. When I told him Master's orders, he left.”

A concise explanation that did not include the worst transgressions.

“What did he say to you?”

There it was. Could I convince Jaguar that I just wanted to see how she would react? Saying you could help a slave escape was not the same as
doing
it. They could and certainly
would
hurt me for it, but I hadn't actually taken or damaged any property.

“He said that he would not hurt me, and that he knew me.”

For some insane, merciful reason, she stopped there. My heart nearly stopped with her.

“That's all?” Jaguar pressed.

“Yes, sir.”

Wide, golden eyes looked right at him as she spoke.
Lied,
to a trainer's face. Lied cleanly, calmly, convincingly.

Jaguar turned and stared at me as if trying to divine answers in my face. He knew something was wrong. Maybe he believed I had bewitched the hawk. I knew I hadn't, but that seemed more believable than that a supposedly broken slave had lied to a trainer for me.

Worse, Jaguar was obviously in the mood to work. Was his falcon boring him? Frustrating him? Did she need some time to cool down, or recover? Either way, he was considering taking his mood out on me. I was freeblood, but I had given him an excuse.

He was too focused for my magic to help me escape. If I ran, he would catch me, and if I fought, I would lose. There was only one way out of this that didn't involve a trip to the infirmary.

I didn't attempt to meet the trainer's steady gaze. Doing so would be like locking eyes with a wolf—an indisputable challenge. Instead, I broke eye contact and dropped to my knees, bowing my head.

The self-protective action was instinctive, encouraged by the ghosts of a thousand slaves who had lived in this building before now. It was only as my knees hit the floor that I imagined what Farrell would say if he saw me like this. For years, I had kept my two selves separate—the Malachi who lived by the code of the Obsidian guild, and the Malachi who came to Midnight to lose himself for a little while. By and large, when I was at Midnight I didn't act as a slave, addressing every vampire and shapeshifter with a title and kneeling whenever one of my “betters” approached, but I did what I needed to survive.

Like this.

I shifted my weight, preparing to stand and accept the consequences of defiance, and every muscle in my body seemed to lock. Fear became a physical thing, holding me down and warning me what would happen if I went through with this.

You'll lose your usefulness to Nathaniel,
that cowardly part of me whispered.
Pretend a little longer, and you can stay here. Cause trouble, and where will you go next?

I let out a yelp as someone pulled me awkwardly to my feet.

“I need to borrow this one.”

Nathaniel's voice was one of the sweetest sounds I had ever heard, though it wasn't louder than the hateful internal voice that was calling me six different kinds of traitor to everyone who had ever loved, trusted, or respected me.

“Did you send him in here?” Jaguar asked.

Nathaniel laughed. “No. But who knows why Malachi does anything?” I managed to get my feet under me, but didn't fight Nathaniel's bruising grip on my arm. He was saving my skin. “How's
your
new falcon faring?”

I didn't understand the conversational change immediately, but Jaguar apparently did. He nodded, and said, “I never should have accepted another one after Charis. I understand now why Jeshickah decided outside stock might improve them. Has Daryl made a decision?”

“That's why I was looking for you,” Nathaniel replied. “He rescheduled our first meeting. Do you mind if I hold on to Charis for another night?”

“Better you than me,” Jaguar scoffed. “I told Alain I would deal with these two traitors, and then I'm not taking any more. They're not worth it.”

“I'll keep that in mind next time Ahnmik approaches me,” Nathaniel said. “Come, Malachi.”

He dropped my arm as he turned away, and I followed gratefully, asking no questions while Jaguar could still hear us.

As we passed through the front door and into the outside air, Nathaniel hissed, “You are damn lucky I was there. What the hell were you doing, Malachi?” I hadn't even opened my mouth before he continued. “Never mind. It's time for you to return to your own kind. I'm sure Kadee will be anxious to see you.”

His shove seemed intended to propel me into the air with its force alone. I changed shape and awkwardly made it into the sky, screeching in protest once in falcon form because I knew better than to protest with human words where Midnight's guards could overhear us. The message was clear enough, anyway. Kadee was with the Shantel. That was where Nathaniel wanted me to go. Had they come up with a plan for the riot Nathaniel wanted to trigger?

I made the mistake of flying directly into Shantel land, hoping their magic wouldn't reject me. I ended up on the ground with my head spinning and my stomach rolling. I was still struggling to see straight when a leopard loped into sight. My eyes watered at the way the guard's knife glistened when he changed back into human form.

“I think I'm expected?” I managed to say. “Malachi Obsidian. I—” I almost said,
I'm working with Nathaniel,
then realized at the last moment that it was unlikely that every Shantel knew what was going on. That would be far too many people to trust. “I'm a friend of Kadee's. And I think the sakkri wants to see me.”

“Think?”
the guard repeated skeptically.

“The message wasn't entirely clear,” I admitted. “But I'm supposed to be here.”

He sheathed the knife, though I knew better than to take that as a sign that he trusted me. If I tried to cause trouble, the forest itself would come to the guard's aid. “This way,” he said, turning his back on me confidently to lead the way. “Does this have anything to do with the other falcon?”

“Other…falcon?” Nathaniel had talked about borrowing Jaguar's project, Charis. Was she here? Was she on our side?