“They keep us fed,” he said at last.
“Fed with more than blood?” I asked with darkness in my tone.
“The human gangs provide us with information. The Grimsons were useful before Lukain’s ill-advised attempt on my master’s life. There are many other human groups itching to take their place.”
My heart squeezed as I thought of my lost Holdmates.Rirth, Culiar, Imis, Helget, Palacia, Antones, Jinneth, Aelin. So many more over the years.And of course there was Lukain Pierken himself, who always seemed to dominate my mind at the worst possible moments.
For the sake of my own conscience and peace, I couldn’t believe he had simply betrayed me because he had learned my blood was some special concoction.
I’ll never know,I thought dourly.
Garroway tapped my arm. “You’re getting that faraway look, lass. Come on. They’re here.”
We snuck out of the alley. “Information is all the humans give you in exchange for these, uh, firebombs?”
I recognized the closed cart in front of a shuttered shop—the store Antones would examine and purchase dresses for the girls in the Firehold during our monthly walks.
Garroway said nothing until we crossed the street. Then, “You remember the boy stolen from the alleyway that evening?”
My arms prickled from the memory. I hadn’t been there, but Jinneth’s story had been so lifelike and detailed, my mind had created a vision of its own. “Layson,” I said. “Of course I remember.”
“Well.”
He cleared his throat and said nothing more as we came to a ramshackle building tucked away from the street. I recognized the building, vaguely at first, my brow threading.
Then it came to me.The auction house where Lukain bid for fresh slaves. What were their names—the two brothers Antones “saved”?
Genth,I recalled the older boy.Faidy was the younger one. He talked like Jinneth.A smile came to me, quickly dashed away once three men walked out past the rickety front door.
A frown twisted my face. I recognized all three of them—older and taller now than when I’d known them. My body went rigid, all thoughts of empathy and kind memories dashed against the cobbles like shattered glass.
Koylen, I thought of the young man on the right.Jeffrith’s friend.Another of Jeffrith’s minions stood on the left.Taclo.
But it was the man between them that made my heart hammer against my ribs. He was a former Grimson—the one accused of raping Helget when I first arrived—who Lukain allowed me to teach a painful lesson as a way of building my character.
For years now, I’d thought Peltos was dead. Truehearts flog me, I hadn’t thought of the rapist at all, after Lukain told Antones to bring his unconscious body to the surface so their grayskin friend could feed on him.
They had been talking about feeding him to Garroway. But Garrodidn’tdrain Peltos and now he’s standing right in front of me with a shitty smirk that says “I’ve won.”
His jaw was crooked and his nose was misshapen from the damage I’d given him. Judging by the two young men flanking him, he was clearly no longer a Grimson. The truth of who my vampire captors were conniving with, “making a peace offering with,” struck me like a punch to the gut.
These are Diplomats.
Chapter 33
I stayed quiet, unable to quell the rage boiling in my blood. Koylen and Taclo hardly seemed to recognize me, which made sense. I’d grown taller and curvier since my miserable time as a child with the Diplomats.
Peltos and Garroway did the talking. I caught Peltos’ eye a few times, the confident expression on his face.The man has found a place with the Diplomats and Dimmon Plank, where he can pillage and plunder to his heart’s content and be rewarded for it.
Fuck the True, we had done this man afavorby beating him unconscious in the Firehold and leaving him to die on the Floorboards. Now he’d found a kindred spirit in Dimmon Plank, and looked to be a commander in his ranks.
I could think what I wanted about Lukain—and those thoughts were conflicted—but at least he didn’t humor rapists.
A memory flooded in, the low words of Garro and Peltos drowning away. Shortly before I’d killed Baylen, while I hung from the edge of the window, I had heard Dimmon speaking with him. My attacker had been at Manor Marquin yet I’d been unable to kill him.
Regret filled my bones. There were only two men on this decrepit earth I wanted dead more than anyone—two of the men who had “raised” me. If Master Lukain truly betrayed me then he would join that list as well. Unfortunately, I would never see vengeance against him because Skartovius had already done it for me. The nobleblood had stolen my revenge.
A voice snapped me back to reality. “Sephania?”
