“Not likely. We tried, remember?” Syrinx seethes, and the familiarity in her tone suggests she’s speaking to someone she knows well. “And after you tried to kill her, there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight.”
“Strange that you don’t remember your role in it,” comes his glib reply. Unless Briar survived some other attempt on her life I’m unaware of, I can only assume they are talking about the incident in the arena, but my memory of the event has grownfoggy. The way Ziv explained it, my mind isn’t capable of seeing his true form. It would be like asking a spider to take in the entirety of the pantheon—impossible.
“I would hardly call my acknowledgement of what you were planning involvement, and I don’t need to ask your permission for anything, least of all doing what I needed to do to get rid of her. She was never supposed to make it out of the cell after she arrived at Frostburn.”
“Well, she did.”
“Why are you here?” Syrinx demands hastily, though her voice stays deceptively calm.
“Because you need me here whether you want to acknowledge that or not. The selection is only weeks away, and if the rumblings I’ve heard are true, the girl is more dangerous than ever.”
“The only thing that ever made her dangerous were her associations,” Syrinx sneers with disdain.
“While I wouldn’t agree, I will concede they are what makes her most dangerous. What do you think your little pet is going to do when he finds outyouare the reason she was sent away and, worse yet, tipped off the gods that she even existed?”
“He won’t ever find out because that’s not what happened.” Her voice is still composed, as if she’s doing everything she can to remain calm, but there’s still a bite to each of her words, like she’s gritting her teeth. Thepethe’s referring to could only be Ziv. I get a little satisfaction in knowing how pissed off he’s going to be when he hears that’s how he was referred to and that I’m going to be the one to deliver the news to him.
The male chuckles. “You have a very selective memory.”
“No, I have plausible deniability and contingencies. I can’t be held responsible for what the gods do with information I’m obligated to give them.”
“You can be when he realizes it’s you who gave them the information about the female being his mate and planting the seeds to get rid of her, which is why I’m here to warn you.”
“I don’t need you to warn me about anything,” she scoffs, clearly insulted.
“I think you’ll feel differently when you hear what I have to say.”
There’s a pause where I start to worry that they left the hall and I’m going to have to try to follow them, but just before I ease out of the shadowy corner, Syrinx asks, “And what will this information cost me?”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” the male croons in what I can only assume he thinks is a seductive tone. Could he really care enough about the banshee to want to protect her? I can’t see anyone caring for her, but then again, I would love to see her dead at my feet, so I might be biased.
“Who else knows you’re here?” Syrinx sounds resigned, as if she knew conceding to him would be the eventual outcome, and she’s tired of pretending anything else.
“Only your assistant, and I trust the vampire knows to keep her mouth shut.”
“If she didn’t, she would already be dead.” Syrinx’s wooden tone grows softer, and I realize they are retreating. I need to see the male she’s speaking to. Maybe Ziv will know who he is since he seems to know the fallen.
I creep from the shadows, pissed at myself for not looking sooner while they were distracted. I get a glimpse of a male in a long cloak that skims the floor. It’s hard to make out much other than his height and the breadth of his shoulders, but I note the fact that he’s taller than the banshee by a couple inches and rather lean. They turn the corner, and Syrinx blocks most of my view of the newcomer.
I make my way down the hall, only to discover they are gone, and I have no idea where to. I’m not very familiar with this wing since I only recently started visiting it. Getting this close to Syrinx’s office to explore before Briar seemed too risky, but now the lapse seems foolish.
I’m torn for several heartbeats. I could go to her room to see if they ever exit, which I doubt since it didn’t seem like the headmistress wanted anyone to know she was meeting with the male, or I could take what little I learned to Ziv to see if he can make heads or tails of it. If I tell him now, maybe he will be able to find Syrinx and see who she’s with for himself.
Decision made, I stay in my shadow form and move as quickly as I can back to the fallen’s room, only to slip under the crack of the door and find the room empty. Damn it, the fucker has been holed up in here for days, and now he’s gone?
There’s only one other place I know he goes. He’s found me there several times, so hopefully it’s my turn to find him sulking now.
BRIAR
My hands are so clammy, my fingers slip off the long handle of the entrance to the arena. This is our final test before the selection, and my gut is in knots. I desperately want to go, but I also know it could be a death sentence.
The last several weeks of training and secretly meeting with Ziv and Kage through the mirror have been exhausting. I’ve spent endless hours in the arena. My time has been split between sparring with Moros and fending off magical attacks, yet I still don’t have control over my abilities. Anger seems to be the only thing I can tap into, and that isn’t nearly as plentiful as the dread that seems to live inside me as of late.
Sunny’s whispered words of encouragement late at night when he curls around me are probably one of the few things that keep me going back to the ring every day. While I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to the cold here, the only time I’m truly warm is when he’s inside me. If I had to survive here permanently, I think I would go insane or never leave our bed.
When I see how packed the arena is, I’m grateful I skipped the tavern. I will say that despite the number of bodies crammed in here, it’s unusually quiet. I make eye contact with Moros across the sand. I have no doubt he will make it through the selection, and I can’t seem to escape the thought of him leaving me behind, even though I know it would never be his choice. He gives me a small nod of reassurance. I’m glad he has confidence in me, because mine abandoned me days ago.
I give him a weak smile in return that I hope conveys my gratitude before heading toward Mick. His daily attendance at my training has been hit or miss over the last few weeks. I guess he trusts that I want to live enough to take my training seriously, or maybe he’s already accepted there’s no way we could best the Ivy since I’m still a dud half the time.
