His eyes turn distant, dazed. “I trained both of you,” he says. “You were two of the fastest with a sword I’d ever seen.”
My throat aches. “I know.”
“And still, my daughter died.” His eyes sharpen. “Now, you’re old and slow, and that ankle is going to give out on you at some point. You will die too.”
“I’m not old.” I feel old.
“We both know arena years aren’t the same as birth years. You walk with a limp when it’s cold.”
I have no idea how he knows that, since he never leaves this house.
“What part ofI have no choicedo you not understand?”
“Last time you had no choice either.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Oh, I know it’s not the same. You were reckless. Both of you. You thought you could play the game and win—without consequence. When the reality was the game was playingyou. And now, you want to try to play that game again. But you’ve lost the spark that made you great. You do this, and you die.”
“I just have to make it through the Sundering.” My words are fast, desperate. “I do that, and my brothers have a future.”
Leon just shakes his head.
“I’ll be fine.” I turn to go, throwing one last comment out. A comment I know will burrow deep. “Merrick will train me.”
Stunned silence.
I pick up the pace, taking long strides back down the path.
“Merrick?” Leon is nipping at my heels, likely moving faster than he has in years.
I’m a piece of shit for manipulating him like this. But I have no choice. Iamslower, although I’ll fix that. But I’m also harder. The part of me that was capable of joy was killed when my best friend took her last breath. And any softness I had left finished bleeding out the moment I learned Ti was gone too.
Unless Leon trains me, I’m dead. And he’ll do it, because allowing me to go alone would be like spitting on his daughter’s grave.
I’m counting on that. Because I’m a cowardly worm. And because he’s my only chance.
“Arvelle.”
My name is a cold blade, and I turn to face it.
Leon stares at me. He knows exactly what I’ve done. Why I came here. And malice wars with bitter fury in his eyes.
“I’ll think about it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
My muscles are trembling with fatigue by the time I make it home. The vampire is once again leaning against our door, Carrick standing next to him, eyeing him distrustfully, my brothers positioned behind his large frame.
The street is quiet, our neighbors nowhere to be seen. But I catch a face pressed to a window in the apartment above ours. When I raise an eyebrow, the face disappears.
I return my attention to my brothers. “Go inside and make sure you’ve got everything you need,” I murmur. “Carrick will help you.”
Carrick’s face darkens further at that, but he follows my brothers into the house.
At this point, I have no leverage. But vampires are sly and cunning. It’s in their nature to ruin lives. A simple word in the wrong place, and I could spend the rest of my life as Bran’s slave.
Bran leans close enough that I can catch the faint scent of blood on his breath. The air around him is several degrees colder, which means he is a direct descendant of a First—one of the vampires created by Umbros himself all those centuries ago.
