The Soulstoy Inheritance (19 page)

“Go ahead, I won’t look,” he declared, turning around.

I stared at his back. “Aren’t you overdoing it, just a little?”

“He chose the one moment when you just happened to be alone to appear, Harrow. You might trust him, but he’s ingrained himself so deeply into your mind, I suppose it would be hard not to. I’m not leaving you alone again.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You heard the stories the men were telling. The Nareon in your mind and the real Nareon are two very different people. Do you really think he will be content to spend his time as your loyal servant while you rule his kingdom?”

I stood up when I realised he wasn’t going to turn back around and sorted through the pile of clothing he had dumped on my lap. He hadn’t given me a fresh towel, so I just pulled on the undergarments without drying, flinging the towel at his back before slipping into the too-big nightshirt and cotton pants. He picked up the towel wordlessly and I immediately felt like a brat.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, slumping back into the damp chair. “I really need to feed.”

He nodded, and pushed up the sleeve of my shirt, gently feeling around my shoulder wound.

“I know you want to believe the best of him, and I’d be inclined to think that he really won’t hurt you, but the overruling reality is that he is Nareon. And Nareon always has an agenda.”

“I know.” I tipped my head back, staring at the ceiling as I briefly battled an absurd urge to cry.

Chapter Thirteen

Into the Cold

After Harbringer finished with my shoulder, I had to lie down so that he could take a look at my stomach.

“I have no privacy left,” I muttered as he pushed my shirt up, “I have ghosts appearing while I’m in the bath, and there seems to always be someone binding or sewing up sections of my body.”

“You like me patching you up. It comforts you.”

I made a face. “I wish I could read minds, then I would endeavor to always make things as uncomfortable for you as possible.”

“Things are pretty uncomfortable as it is,” he muttered, finally finishing with my stomach and pulling my shirt back down.

I lifted a brow and pushed into a sitting position as he got up off the bed and began scooping up Gretal’s supplies.

“They are?”

Instead of answering me, he set the bag on the chaise and moved into the dressing room. “Goodnight, Siren.”

I felt a shiver race down my spine at his whispered words, and then I jumped up, realising what they had meant.

“Wait.” I caught him, my hand on his shoulder in the middle of the dressing room. “
I’m
making you uncomfortable?”

He looked at my hand until I removed it, and then took a step backwards.

“I’ve broken my vow not to touch you once already, and today I made another. I won’t break this one, Harrow.”

“It’s making you uncomfortable that you broke it once before?” I frowned, fighting off the stab of emotion that may have been hurt that he had made the vow for a second time, or it may have been anger that Hazen had asked him to.

He didn’t answer me, and the hurt twisted a little deeper.

“Hazen has no right.”

“He wants to protect you.”

“I don’t feel the need to protect him from whoever the hell
he
wants to kiss, and he should give me the same respect.”

Harbinger tilted his head, considering me.

“You’re upset.” He sounded surprised.

“Of course I’m upset!” I almost yelled, beginning to pace. “I’m sick of jumping when people poke me, I’m sick of being the distraction, the instrument. I want to decide things for myself, make my
own
path, and I want to kiss you—“

I paused, realising a little too late that I had spoken that last confession out loud. I didn’t wait to see how my words had effected him, but spun immediately, intending to run right out of the room, and perhaps even the castle. He caught my arm and pulled me back, his hands capturing my face.

“I’m going to hell, just so you know,” he muttered before he crushed his lips to mine.

I registered on some dizzying level that this kiss was nothing like our previous kisses. He hoisted me up and I felt my back hit the wall beside the door, and his hands caught on my nightshirt, pushing it up until I could feel the heat of his touch, moulding to the still-damp curve of my spine. His hands were big enough that just one of them could almost span the length of my waist. I felt a burning hunger in the pit of my stomach, and if my head hadn’t spun so dizzily, I might have been worried that it stemmed from my synfee urges. As it was, I could only draw him closer, and return his kisses with a fervour to match his own.

His hands slid around to either side of my waist and gripped me tightly, as he tore his mouth from mine suddenly.

“Give me a minute.” He groaned, resting his forehead against mine.

I wanted to pull him back to me, but could see that his control balanced on a thin wire, and my synfee hunger was beginning to merge into a sort of drugging pain. After a minute, he gently set me down.

“Goodnight, Bea.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, watching him disappear through the connecting door. 

I returned to my room, feeling unbalanced, and jolted to a stop, barely managing to keep myself from screaming again. Nareon stretched out over my bed, his arms folded behind his head.

“He’s lying to you, Spitfire.”

The unbalanced feeling turned into something else, something colder.

“Why are you saying that?”

“I might not be able to read minds like the super mind-ability triplets, but I can sense certain things. Certain emotions. He’s hiding something from you. And you should know, you’re dangerously hungry.”

I tried to fight off the dread that his words threatened to incite, and moved to the vanity, taking a comb to my wet hair.

“You hide things from me all the time.”

He jumped up, moving toward me, the usual storm of grey in his irises swirling into black as he considered me in the mirror.

“The nature of our relationship is very different. And whatever his secret is, it isn’t harmless.”

“Your secrets are hardly harmless either.”

He made a frustrated noise, and leaned over me, knocking the comb from my hands. A shock of cold shot down my arm, and I pulled my hand back to my chest, cradling it.

“I’ll not hesitate to protect you, Beatrice. Don’t force me to.” And then he was gone again.

I pushed up from the stool shakily, and fought off a wave of darkness so strong, I almost fell to my knees from the force of it. Rushing to the dressing room, I hastily pulled on a dark coat and a pair of boots, and then burst through my sitting room to the hallway beyond. To my surprise, Teddy was leaning against the wall.

“Bea.” He blinked, apparently just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“We take turns guarding your door every night. You didn’t know that?”

“No. I need to go to the feeders.”

“Come with me.” He took off straight away, probably seeing the urgency of the situation written all over my face, and I followed him back to the ground floor of the castle.

He led me into a huge room that had the appearance of an infirmary. Beds lined the walls, sectioned off from one another by fluttery white curtains, and I met the stares of the pale people, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

“They’re fine,” Teddy assured me. “It just takes a lot out of them. Most of the feeders stay here, where they will have a better chance at being called upon again.”

I swallowed and let Teddy lead me into a small, curtained alcove separated from the rest of the room. I noticed many more, situated further along the room. The alcove had a window, which might have looked out into a garden, though it was too hard to tell in the darkness. A plain white desk sat in the middle of the room, a metal chair on either side of it.  A man sat in the chair facing me.

He was elven, with drawn, pale features and hollow eyes. He looked stronger than the others, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was supposed to be a special treat, just for me. He smiled when he saw me, and instantly some of the tightness about him dissipated. His eyes now held a feverish quality; hungry for whatever my synfee magic did to him. I turned away, putting a hand to my chest and trying to fight off a wave of nausea.

“I can’t,” I croaked. “Teddy, get me out of here.”

Teddy shot me a sympathetic glance and grabbed my wrist, drawing me from the alcove and past the beds of so many ruined people. When he didn’t turn toward the staircase, I glanced back.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to Leif.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s the only one I can think of who doesn’t use the feeders.”

I followed silently, allowing Teddy to lead me right past the gates toward Castle Nest, through the first section of the city and toward one of the bridges leading into the second. I knew from the map that the Raven river divided into three streams when it hit Castle Nest, separating the city into parts connected by various bridges scattered throughout. We crossed the bridge, and passed down a street that had been thrown into considerable darkness, with the street lamps blacked out. Teddy stopped and turned to me, pulling the hood of my coat over my face and securing the buttons right up to my chin. It made me feel like a child.

He gave me a once-over when he was done, nodded, and drew me further down the shaded street, until we came to a doorway guarded by two men. They stared straight ahead, hands folded before them.

“I’ve a package to deliver,” Teddy declared.

The men silently drew open the doors, standing aside for us to pass through. Teddy pulled me after him, and I found myself standing in an ordinary-looking pub. It was surprisingly busy, and a man stood on a raised dais at the back of the room, telling some sort of story that held the people scattered about him enthralled. Teddy walked to the corner of the room—which I suspected was the best place to find Leif, and then sat down in a vacated booth, gesturing for me to sit also.

“Where’s Leif?” I asked him, keeping my voice low.

“You don’t find Leif, he finds you.”

“Right.” I turned to watch the man speaking—though I couldn’t hear what he said—and started to twist my fingers nervously in my lap.

“Calm down,” Teddy said, swiping glasses from a passing waitress and slapping some coins down onto her tray before passing one of the glasses to me. “Have a drink, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself in here.”

I mumbled my thanks and took a larger gulp of the drink than was necessary. It had an unfamiliar, bitter taste. A man slid into the seat beside me, one gloved hand snatching the glass from me.

“You don’t want that,” Leif grumbled. “It won’t help.”

Teddy didn’t jump, as I did, but he did shoot out of his seat.

“I’ll be just over there.” He nodded to the man speaking and then promptly disappeared.

“Teddy said—“

Don’t speak about it out loud, Lady Queen
. He suddenly interrupted, his scratchy voice sounding in my head.

Sorry. Teddy said that you don’t use the feeders.

I don’t.

I don’t think my mother did either, not after she left the kingdom.

I knew Caroline.

I turned my head, unable to help my surprise, though it wasn’t so unlikely. Leif had always been one of Nareon’s advisors.

I don’t really remember her very well
.

She was different. Like you.

I didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not, but I had always admired my mother, no matter what others thought of her, so I decided to be pleased by the remark.

Some people can go without feeding,
he continued,
like your mother and me. It all depends on your push
.

What is your push
?
What was her push
?

Her strongest ability was her appeal
.

Appeal?

All synfees are appealing, Lady Queen, but what people don’t realise is that it is an actual ability. As far as I know, it’s the only power that every synfee is born with. It has occurred in the human kingdom—though it is exceedingly atypical—and was recorded to be among the fae rarities. 

So it must be stronger in some, and weaker in others, just like every other ability?

That’s correct. It was exceptionally strong in your mother. Anyone who wasn’t afraid of her, loved her.

Why would they be afraid of her?

She was Nareon’s favourite. He often favored her opinion over those of his advisors, and killed any man that she showed an interest in.

Is that why she left?

Nareon never asked her to marry him, because he knew that she would say no. Eventually it just became too much for him, and he banished her.

“He
what
?” I yelped, half jumping out of my seat.

A few people turned to look at me, and Leif’s hand clamped down on my arm, pulling me back to the seat. I sat heavily, and grabbed my drink, taking another swallow mostly to hide my face and occupy my hands as another flash of darkness scattered across the backs of my eyelids.

Sorry,
I muttered internally.

No. I should apologise, Lady Queen. I often forget Nareon’s penchant for secrecy. If it makes a difference, he always watched out for you for that very reason. He never quite forgave himself for sending her away, though ironically, she finally found her peace beyond the border.

So her push made her more appealing? What is yours?

My strongest ability is stealth.

Your push suits you, then. And that’s why you can go without feeding?

It’s not easy, even disregarding the push. For the first few years you feel constantly on edge, you’ll lash out at people for no reason, and there will be an insatiable hunger always burning in your throat. Most people who resist feeding go crazy, or starve, as all normal food loses its appeal.