“You can tell?” Talia asked, crouching to study the box more closely.
Everil locked his shaking hands behind his back to keep from dragging her away from it. He would not poison her against Nimai. Could not. Nimai had only ever shown his capacity for cruelty to Everil. It would be necessary to keep it that way.
“Yes. I can tell.”
He knew the taste of Nimai’s magic. Cinnamon, sandalwood, and nutmeg. They had been soulbonds. Their energies perfectly matched, ideally compatible. There were many ways, Everil had learned, to be compatible.
What better match for a man who enjoyed inflicting suffering than one who shied away from pain? But that was unfair. Nimai had tried. It was Everil who’d always been the disappointment.
“Is it alright?” Talia asked. Her hands hovered over the box, but she was looking up at him, chewing at her lower lip.
“Of course. It’s your present. You may do what you wish with it.”
“Oh. Good.”
Talia stood with the box in her hand. Stained glass, burnished elm, and glinting gems. It was a delicate construction, exquisite. If Everil had tried, he could have read the power of it, guessed at what pretty enchantments Nimai had woven into it. Like most brownies, he was skilled with subtle work.
Talia cupped it in one hand, then threw it at the porch, with a rush of incandescent power. Glass shattered. Wood splintered. The gems ran like sap.
“Gross.” She was smiling when she turned back to him. “Your ex issupertacky.”
Everil stared. At her. At the smoking porch. The gems pooled into an ugly brown sludge.
“I–” He should correct her. Tell her to be respectful. Nimai wouldn’t be his ex much longer. And Talia would rely on his guardianship. The words stuck in Everil’s throat, refusing to be spoken.
“I don’t forget everything when I die.” Talia’s words lacked their usual flippancy. “It’s all impressions. Shadows. But I know not to trust him. I knowyoudon’t trust him.”
Everil wavered in place, pulse racing as the room began to spin. “It’s a personal matter.”
“You shouldn’t do this.”
“There’s nochoice.”
She turned away from him, pulling the door shut. It dragged through the brown pool, smearing it over the wood. “You couldtry.Tell them you can take care of me yourself.”
“No. I can’t. You know I can’t. Protocol.” He almost smiled. “Gates must be guarded by a bonded pair.”
“Then find a different bond.”
How nice it must be to be young. How lucky humans and Gates were to get to enjoy it. To die while the world still held possibility, instead of going on and on and on.
“Some bond easily. I do not.”
“Maybe you just haven’t really looked,” Talia said. Everil was beginning to recognize a pattern of alarming gaps in her knowledge.
“I have. It took over a century to locate Nimai. Suire was ceded an allotment for locating him.” His mother had grumbled over it. Givinglandto upstart wisp. There was no higher gift in Faerie. “He’s the best I can do.”
No one knew why some bonded more easily than others. His mother had blamed his manners. His father, a lack of dedication. Nimai called it fate.“You were always meant for me. My wild horse. Who else would have the patience to tame you?”
“I hate this,” Talia said.
“It’s not for you to worry over. Nimai and I can get along. I promise.” The trick was to stop caring. Nimai took such delight in breaking what he loved. “Why don’t we go out? You mentioned pizza.”
Everil wanted the suggestion to chase the shadows from Talia’s eyes. It had been years since he’d last left Brookhaven and walked the streets of Skyler. And Talia was ridiculously excited to explore a ‘real live’ human town.
She shook his head at his offer and turned away, disappearing up the stairs. He didn’t follow. Why try when the path was set?
Chapter two
