But we both know. That was the sound of violence.
The killer just struck again.
XLVII.
Kerasea
I’ve had lovers before, but Torren makes me swear I haven’t. My body felt lit on fire, like walking through the eternal flame—illuminated, not scorched—an addicting, powerful high.
I’d fallen into oblivion with him, but then there was that scream. A terrible, primal death knell. The cry came from outside—almost like it was right beyond this window.
Before I formed the question, I already knew it was the sound of murder from the throbbing in my head and wrists. Of all the magic I could have in my blood, mine is a connection to godless death.
Ice fills my veins as I hold still, waiting for another sound. A word. Something.
There’s nothing but the silent night.
Torren and I break apart, breathing hard. He runs his hands over his face, looking shaken, vulnerable for a moment. I’m also trembling. I was lost in him, but then there was that scream. It was as painful as it was shattering.
“It sounded…it sounded like an older woman,” I say.
He nods. “It did.”
“Medea?” I ask.
He takes two deep breaths, his breastplate rising and falling, and then he sighs as we right ourselves, finding the clothes we removed. “I have to investigate. Go back to your chambers and bar the door. Please, Kera. I have to know you’re safe in order to do my job.”
The “please” is so small and pleading that my heart physically aches. I nod and smooth out my dress. The skirt is wrinkled, and I’m sure my hair is a mess, but I’ll change into bedclothes in a moment anyhow.
Tor adjusts his sword and raises his chin, and just like that—he’s the Praetorian again. Not the fervent lover of a moment ago but a brutal hunter.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod.
He opens the door for me. I’m about to step around the mess and into the hall when there’s a knocking sound farther down.
I freeze and exchange glances with Torren. Silently, he moves in front of me, shielding me with his body. He steps out of the room first.
“There you are,” Julian says. “What are you doing in—” He stops short when I step out. I pull the door closed behind me.
“I was investigating,” Torren says.
Julian looks from me to him and back again, and then he smirks. Something inside me shrivels in embarrassment, and it takes all my training not to slouch. I’m sure we both look kiss-stained and guilty.
“Mm-hmm,” Julian hums. “I’m now very sorry to interrupt, Praetorian, but I heard a scream.”
“I did as well,” Torren says. “Let’s go.”
He tosses the dagger to Julian, who easily catches it. But Julian lingers, looking at me. He waits like I’ll accompany them.
The Praetorian glances over his shoulder at me. “Return to your room, High Priestess. I’ll take care of this.”
There’s the promise of violence and justice in his voice, and there’s something so alluring to that. I want to follow, but just as when we were by the baths, I would be a hindrance, not a help, if I went with them.
Julian and Torren take off down the hall and disappear.
I unlock my door and take a shaking step inside. I’d lost myself so deeply in him that I allowed him to take me right there. In poor Zel’s room. And then, right at the edge of true euphoria, there was that scream. That primal sound replays in my mind, haunting me. Not only was it horrific, it was…familiar.
