My heart races. I swallow hard, remembering my broken, bloodied body. The way my ribs cracked and I was forced to drink from Kleora to heal.
My smile sinks and my eyes narrow. There’s no point playing dumb. “I promise.” It’s the truth. Bregsitch never raped me. “Besides,” I add, growing frustrated with this interrogation, “what would you do if he had? You already killed him. You can’t kill him again.”
“Wouldn’t stop us from trying,” Garro quips, but my eyes are stuck on Skar’s red gaze, the gold flecks in them swirling with his inner rage.
“We would return to Sutlis Spire,” he says darkly, “and burn the rest of it down with every fucking soul in it.”
Silence.
“Obviously,” Garro chirps, wagging his finger at his master. “That’swhat we would do.”
More silence. His jokes aren’t landing—not with Skar so hot and angry, the steam practically rising off his body as he tries to peer into my soul with his gaze.
I stifle a shudder. “Don’t bother,” I say at last, giving them another shrug and smile. “I’m fine, love.”
I have been gone three months. They were difficult, obscenely depressing months. In hindsight, it was a terrible mistake planning such an auspicious scheme, breaking into the Tanmount with the purpose of getting caught so I could question“Overseer Verant” face to face. As the months passed and I lost track of time, I began to think I’d never see my dastardly vampires again.
My mother, though, she’s been gone twentyyears. I can’t hold a candle to what she must be feeling with her newfound freedom.
It’s no big surprise when the four of us walk into the large back room of the stronghold and find Jinneth holding court with Keffa and nearly twenty women seated quietly in a large circle before her.
My eyes scan the giant painting on the wall behind them, transposing every pore in extreme detail. The sensation of intense awkwardness that fills me is all-encompassing. In the portrait of Jinneth, she’s reclined on a sofa in a come-hither pose, slightly smiling, complete with expansive rolling curves, wide-open legs hiding exactly zero modesty, and heavy bare breasts spooling out.That’s mymotherup there on the wall, looking so scandalous and inviting for her painter, Iron Sister Keffa!
Embarrassment and shame hits me and I fear I’ll never be pure again. I blink the strangeness away and shake my head, walking through the archway of the room to listen to what my mother says to the gathered crowd of eager faces.
Every age and sect is represented, from the youngest human girl to the half-vampires like Lyroan and Tecca, to the matronly cooks, to the elders like Iron Sister Keffa, their leader.
At least IthoughtKeffa was their leader. Seeing the way everyone is perched so respectfully, leaning forward and hanging off Jinneth’s words, maybe my assumption was misplaced.
Jinneth commands the room as she regales a short story of her time in captivity. She sweeps a hand to the back of the room, toward me, finishing her spiel. “. . . And that is the greatestreward of all, my dear Sisters. Reuniting with my long-lost daughter.” Her hand moves to Keffa at the front row. “And the love of my life.”
With a small bow, biting back tears and showing resilience that makes me proud, Jinneth regards the three vampires at my side. “For those reasons alone, I will always be grateful to the devils who helped rescue me.”
Even if you hate them and don’t trust them,I think,because they’re vampires.
“I will count my time imprisoned as a blessing,” Jinneth continues, and I hear more than a handful of girls weeping and crying. “Because at the end of it, I was gifted with the two most important people in my life.”
A woman who lied to me to get you out, and a daughter who you’ve never met before.My running mind is a curse right now. I can’t stop the sense of betrayal and abandonment from swallowing me. They’re two of the only feelings I’ve ever known, until meeting Skartovius, Vallan, and Garroway.
The three most important people inmylife,I decide. Because they came back for me. Time and again, and when it counted most, these three “heartless monsters” saved me.
This was just another rescue to them. To me, it was everything. It showed me their unconditional love, even if they would never admit to such a human emotion tarnishing their blackened souls.
I find myself smiling at my men, my cheeks wet with tears. I’m not crying for the reason everyone else is—Jinneth’s harrowing, heartfelt tale—as I look at my men. I sense they understand why my tears are flowing. I’ve kept them behind my eyes for so long now, without my mates.
My mother’s story brings light applause from the crowd, and many forearms wiping away wet cheeks. My mother looksexhausted yet she remains stoic on her chair, smiling at the group.
I see now why she’s ahead of even the Iron Sister on the pecking order. She has the gifts of charisma and storytelling on her side.
Keffa stands from the front row, approaches Jinneth, and drapes an arm over her shoulder. “Our ranks have grown more than you could have ever envisioned, beloved. Isn’t it wonderful?”
My mother nods with a cheery smile. “It is quite something, Iron Sister.”
“There are more Sisters stationed elsewhere in both Olhav and Nuhav.” Keffa sounds proud of the achievement, the spies she’s placed in different regions.
“Where’s Sister Zefyra?” one of the girls asks from the audience.
For a moment, there’s confusion on the faces of the girls as they look around. Zefyra the Chained Sister was turned into a vampire by Cordea at the North Mines, after Zefyra’s lover, Ethera, sacrificed herself for the cause.
