“Because I’m the evil vampire?”
“Being a vampire hasnothingto do with it.”
Rage glitters in Rorrik’s eyes and my skin turns clammy. Awareness floods through me, and I take a step back. I’m alone with him, entirely at his mercy. If he wanted, he could end me. Some part of himdoeswant to. I’m sure of it.
“Tiberius Cotta wasn’t the person you think he was.”
My hand is slipping down to my blade, one leg shifting back as I prepare to—
I release the hilt of my knife. “What do you mean?”
He gives me a knowing look. “Do you want to know what Cotta was doing when he spent his time in places like the Thorn?”
My mouth is so dry, all I can do is nod.
“He was gathering the sect of Mortuus and sacrificing the poorest citizens in Senthara to the god of ruin. He wanted to free the god who loathes vampires more than any other, to ensure the balance of power swings to the sigilmarked. For good.”
“You’re lying.” No one would be stupid enough to free a god who revels in death and destruction. But my memory pushes me back to the cloak I stole from Tiberius’s closet. And the gold bracelet inside its pocket. The mark of Mortuus on the bracelet, and on each of the bodies I saw in the ludus.
Rorrik’s eyes are cool. “Putting the pieces together?”
Those murders … they were happening frequently—some of them just days apart. Gradon’s body was found the morning of the third challenge. I killed Tiberius Cotta that night. And no bodies have been discovered since. Was he killing people in the ludus as well?
My stomach churns, and Rorrik gives me a humorless smile. His rage is tucked away out of sight now, but I know it still lingers. I can feel it.
I stare at him, silent. He stares back, and when I don’t reply, he shakes his head.
“Good night, Arvelle.” His voice is formal. Stilted.
I’m still staring sightlessly at the sofa when he closes the common room door behind him.
I’M SITTING WITHTiernon beneath our tree. We don’t climb it anymore—haven’t for years. But this will always be our place.
He plays with my hair, his eyes distant, and I watch him, obsessed with every flicker of his expression. Last night was … everything.
My cheeks warm, and he grins. “Blushing, Arvelle?”
Despite the darkness, I know he can see it. Vampires have much sharper senses than maginari and sigilmarked.
I clear my throat. “What are you thinking about?”
“My brother.”
I go still, as I always do when he talks about his family. His refusal to speak of them has been something I’ve tried to understand but never could.
I paste what I hope is a nonchalant expression onto my face. “Oh yeah?”
His lips twitch, but he pulls me close, until I’m lying with my head on his thighs.
I know little about Ti’s brother. When he was younger, he would grin as he talked about him, rolling his eyes at his brother’s decrees. If his brother learned that he was coming to the Thorn, Ti would be in big trouble—I knew that much.
What would it be like to have a family member that … cared? The twins are so young, and I know they love me, but I’m that person forthem.
My mother … my chest aches, and I rub at it in an attempt to ease the pain. Ti catches my hand and presses a tender kiss to my knuckles.
“You’re lucky,” I say hoarsely. “I know your brother can be overprotective, but at least he worries about you.”
He sighs. “It’s not that simple. I did something unforgivable. If he ever learns of it, he’ll hate me for the rest of his life.”
