“Out of the question.”
I seethed. “Before you came along, trying to act like my overprotective father, I was a prizefighter in the Firehold and underground pits of Nuhav.”
“Yet Garroway defeated you,” he snapped back, “and he’s only a half-vampire. The beings you’d face on these streets are largely fullbloods.”
My lip curled in a sneer as I stood from the bed, jamming a finger into his chest. “You can’t keep me locked in here at night, Skartovius. I’m already a prisoner during the day.”
“Fine,” he relented, flaring his nostrils. “Let’s go, brat princess.”
Jinneth and I strolled along an embankment overlooking a babbling creek near the Chained Sisters’ stronghold. The creek trailed down a hill and connected like a spider web with other small streams, forming into a larger river that eventually waterfalled off the edge of the cliff.
This was our usual route—close enough to the Hall for someone to always be watching us, far enough so we could be alone.
This time, it was Vallan and a softly weeping dhampir named Lyroan, walking about twenty paces behind us. The young woman wore the gray robes of her sect and kept sniffling into the wide sleeve, continuously asking why Vallan was “doing this to her.”
Vall was a mix of grunts and awkward answers. I hadn’t been surprised to see him at the Chained Sisters’ abode when Skar and I arrived, though a bit disappointed he preferred to find shelter with this crying girl than me and his own “brother” at the safehouse.
Skar had stayed behind to speak with Keffa Caernyd and, I imagined, to get a break from me.
“It’s not you, girl. I’m busy.” Vallan spoke with all the tact of a cinderblock.
Lyroan was a redheaded, freckled half-blood of ample size, yet she was vertically challenged and only came up past Vallan’s stomach. They were an odd mix, those two.
“Will it ever change? Will you ever come to my chambers again, my dashing prince?” Lyroan asked, holding her hands clasped together in prayer.
My head twisted from around my shoulder, eyes rolling in exaggeration as I looked forward. It made Jinneth snicker.
“You promised me a dhampir whelp of my own, bastard!” she screeched suddenly, and I heard the dull thud of her tiny fists smacking against his chest.
Vallan grunted in response.
I winced at the shrill sound of her voice. “All that bickering must get tiring, eh?” I asked in a low voice.
Jin shrugged, still smiling. “You get used to it, yeah?” Her gaze swept over the gentle creek to our right. “Though it does kill the romanticism of it all. Our peaceful walk disrupted by a shrieking banshee.”
“What would two humans like us be without our vampiric watchers?” I asked cheerily, winking at her.
“Better than having no protection in Nuhav, yeah?” she quipped.
I mulled that over, kicking a rock and pursing my lips. “That’s a debate worth having.”
She smiled again and we kept walking. The night was cool, the breeze soft against my hair and skin. If nothing else, having Jinneth near me was consoling—a remembrance of my past life before everything went to shit and I ended up as the prize of my bloodsucker trio.
“Bit stupefying ol’ gargoyle Vall stopped tending to Ly’s bedchamber,” Jinneth said, still caught up in thinking about the arguing couple behind us.
Her words made me pause. I came up short to stand on the bank of the shallow creek. “How long had Vallan been, erm,treatingwith Lyroan before he stopped?”
Her bony shoulders lifted. “A year, mayhaps? Vall’s a liaison with a bunch’a groups in Olhav, particularly the Military Ward. Had his urges, y’see? Would come in for relief and Ly was more than happy to oblige that tall skyrise. Bloodsucker stallion probably had a whole stable of mares ‘round the city. Ol’ Vall may seem dumb but I think that stoic bastard has more going on inside his head than he lets on.”
My arms crossed. “When did he stop seeing her?”
“Recent.” Jinneth tapped her chin, staring at a point in the creek where a rock jutted up, creating a diversion of two streams. “Few days after you first showed up, now I think on it.”
I felt her gaze on me from the side. Blinking down at the river, I noticed the concerned tilt to my brow in the water’s reflection. “No.”
“Yeah. Yeah? Why would I make that up, Sephy?”
“I don’t think you’re making it up. I just think what your tone is insinuating is false, friend.”
