Her tiny nose twitches and she shakes her head firmly, staring into my face with her turquoise eyes. “No, Sephania. I am interfolk. There’s a difference.”
My heart twists, a claw of agony ripping into me. Feeling warmth flood my cheeks, I find my palms growing clammy and my face growing cold. All I can do is offer the resilient interfolk woman a kind smile, which I know looks sad and piteous.She’s so different from others . . . she feels like she doesn’t even belong with her own people. Humans.
Anger rocks me, flaring to an unfathomable fire. I’m not even sure where it sprouts from or how it comes on so fast.Humans. The fucking trash heap I call my own—the people I’m trying to rescue from the tyranny of the vampires.
And this is how they treat their own?
“What areyoudoing here, Seph?”
I grind my teeth, trying not to let the anger out in front of Palacia. She doesn’t deserve it.She’s found her place, she says,among the hardworking, toiling interfolk servants who work these silver mines. I have to respect that.“I’m here to see the foreman,” I say, tossing a thumb over my shoulder. “He’s an, erm, acquaintance of mine.”
“Foreman Stellos? Wow. Well, if he’s a friend, I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other!”
“That we will, Pala.” I smile and give Palacia a final hug. It’s all I can do, with the girl burrowing in my enclosed arms. When I look down past my chest, her face brightens as she tilts her head back to stare up at me.
For all she’s been through, all she’s seen, I notice just as much resilience in her thin, small body as I have in my much larger, taller frame.
These people are ripe for change.
The thing that kept me with Skartovius, Vallan, and Garroway to begin with—the luminous, obscure “cause” they’re spearheading—burgeons with new life inside me.
It invigorates me, filling me with fire, desire, and hope.
My hands clench at my sides as I leave Palacia to her work, storming toward the large foreman’s tent in the distance.
Oh, sweet fire, how I’ve missed your warm embrace.
Chapter 6
Sephania
I swing the flap of the large tent back.
Cordea, the lithe, ridiculously attractive vampiress and deputy forewoman when Vallan isn’t around, is the only one inside. She’s leaning over a table, looking at a map in the same way Vallan typically does when he’s in this four-polled circus tent.
Her head snaps over her shoulder, a look of offense on her smooth face. Recognizing me doesn’t change her affect one iota. “It’s you.”
“I’m back.”
“Vallan said nothing about it.”
Is that supposed to offend me?She’s always seen me as a nuisance, just like Vallan Stellos initially did when I showed up. I had topersuadeVall to accept me with every bit of my feminine wiles and tactics, if they can be called that.
For a moment, I wonder if Cordea doesn’t harbor resentments and jealousies toward me like Sister Lyroan does. It would be comical, since she’s a full-fledged vampire, clearly experienced in the ways of the world and, judging by her beauty, wouldn’t struggle to land any man she wanted.
Still, the idea of it makes me smile.
“Wipe that haughty grin off your face, girl,” Cordea snarls. “The workers might get the idea they’re supposed to be havingfunhere.”
I’m tempted to roll my eyes. “Where is he?”
She juts her chin past one of the tarp walls, east. “Burying bodies, last I checked.”
My brow jumps. “What?”
“Explosion inside the mines. Faulty tooling of the fuse. Went off early. Killed two.”
My stomach twists into knots when I think of the same fate befalling Palacia.She shouldn’t be here, dammit. It’s too dangerous.Then again, she’s not my child. She’s made her choice, evidently.
