“Ican hear you in there, you know. Could probably hear you from the ground floor, if I’m honest.” Tiss’s voice comes from the other side of the curtain once Maida’s gone. “I’m not going tostrangleyou. I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, though.”
Her words are slightly lisped and jarringly conversational. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to me when I step into her bedroom.
“Cordelia said you bit through your tongue?”
“The side of it.” With her left hand she gestures to the right side of her face. “It’s better now and mending quicker than my head or shoulder.”
Rounding her bed, I sink down next to her on the mattress. Look at the front of her dress, soaked with drying, brownish blood. “That’s alot—”
“Stop, El. Please.” She holds up a hand, her aura throbbing blue and shot through with ribbons of red-brown not far off the rust color of her sodden clothes. “I need to make sure I understand some things. And Idesperatelyneed you to be completely and totally honest.”
“Absolutely. Anything you want to know,” I say, and mean it.
“You knew we’d been together, knew our entire history,” she starts, “beforethe flashbacks happened. True or false?”
I take a breath. “True.”
“Because you still have your memories. True or false?”
“True.”
The red in her aura spikes. Pulling in a long breath through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, she says, “Which you’ve been keeping from me, and in some cases outrightlyingabout, this whole damned time.”
“True,” I whisper, running damp palms along my trousers, over the tops of my thighs.
“And youwere, in fact, going to tell me at some point?”
“True! … Eventually.”
“Eventually. Of course, silly me. Not sure why I bothered with that one.” Looking away, she gingerly rubs her injured shoulder. Lets loose a sharp breath. “In one of our memories, you said you’dneverforgive me. Gods, you were sodramaticabout it. But I guess that explains why we started out so rocky after the ritual.”
“Yeah. Well. You know by now I can't stay away from you. Can’t stay mad at you. Fuck, Tiss, not even when I want to, which I very much did.” I shake my head. “I don’t have any choice when it comes to you—not so long as we’re bonded how we are.”
Eyebrows puckered, she studies me for a long moment. I can’t help but wonder how much she remembers about my being her Thrall. If she realizes how literal I’m being.
Does she still know what that means for us?
“You and I”—I motion between us—“we’reconnected. To the point that I didn’t have the freedom to make any other decision. You saw to that when you pledged yourself to the goddess.”
“You did, though.” There’s a brief spark of…somethingin her blue eyes. The fact that I can’t quite parse it is maddening. “After I submitted to the ritual, you were theonlyone with a choice. I didn’t need you to protect me from myself so much as I needed you to simply talk to me, El.”
“Not in my mind. Not after you backed me into a corner. And I could say the same to you about how you left me that day in Aronya Dar.”
“All right, I’ll give you that one.” Her posture deflates. “So we’re both a mess, is what it comes down to.”
“Oh, we’re fucking hopeless together. And heartbroken without each other.” I scrub my hands over my face. “It’s a fine conundrum.”
“I understand that since I came here, I’ve had a history of overreacting. I realize my emotional instability has done… damage. I mean, look at me.” She sweeps a hand over herself. “I ignored your warning not to meddle in the sisters’ business. To leave Lydia alone.”
“Again,” I growl.
“Again,” she echoes and lets the hand drop. Winces, hissing through her teeth. “Gods, you probably think I deserve this.”
“Nobody deserves to be beaten, Tiss.”
“You’d be right if you did, though.” She pulls her good shoulder—the one nearest me—into a shrug. “But I can’t stop wondering what it would have been like if you’d simply told me the truth from the get. Whether you meant to or not, your secretsand lies left me with no capacity under which to govern myself. No information with which to make better choices.” Her aura flares a deeper, more sorrowful blue. Closing her eyes, she rests her thumb and forefinger on her lids.
“You’re right,” I concede. “But it’s also not that simple, is it? Let’s say there’s someone you loved with all your heart. You loved her more than anything, more than life itself. Needed her likeoxygen. But then she passed away. For instance.”
