“Of course.” Natalya’s tone suggested she knew Evie was thanking her for more than just staying by her as she slept. Then her face turned serious. “I’m sorry to do this now, but I need to talk to you.”
That was not a good sentence. Especially not when matched with Natalya’s expression.
Evie pushed up on her elbows, covering herself with the bedsheet. “Okay?”
“Varro reached out to us. He said he would make sure no one tried to take you again.”
Evie felt cold hearing that. “He’s lying.”
“We know. He wanted Austin’s remains in exchange for the truce, but he knows they were disposed of.”
Evie couldn’t help but scoff. “Varro doesn’t care about Austin.”
Natalya frowned. “Why is that?”
“He lost his favorite progeny before I was taken. Varro made Austin to replace him. Some of the other humans said Austin looked just like him, but he didn’t live up to expectations.”
“Rollo.” Natalya looked away, a hateful glint in her eyes. “He was a snake. We could never prove he was working for Night. The only evidence we had was hearsay. I didn’t know he was a favorite of his King.”
“Austin wasn’t allowed to use me.” The words left a sour taste in her mouth. “Varro didn’t trust that he wouldn’t kill me. But Stefano liked him. He thought he was fun.”
“I’m glad he’s dead,” Natalya said with surprising coldness, and Evie was reminded of the demonic visage Natalya had made in her apartment. It was so far from the ethereal beauty she was there. So far from what she’d been the night before. The night of the attack, she had moved with violent glee and efficiency. Evie wondered how many people had died at Natalya’s hands.
“Varro had meetings with other Night regents,” Natalya said. “The American Queens specifically. Are you familiar with them?”
Evie had seen them both. “Queen Zahra doesn’t like Varro. Varro doesn’t like Queen Cecilia.”
“Can you describe what they’re like?”
Queen Zahra of the East Coast was a surprisingly serene woman who had looked at Varro’s collection of frightened humans, including Evie, with disgust. Queen Cecilia of the South-West was the opposite.
Cecilia was cold and had a sharp laugh that promised pain. She’d brought a Seraphic of her own—a young man named Cameron based on his tattoo—and had tried to convince Varro that he and Evie should entertain the two vampire Regents by having sex in front of them. Varro had sneered and declined. Evie and Cameron had barely looked at each other.
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Evie sat up, turning away from Natalya.
The conversation brought up horrible memories. Of a stranger’s hands on her body and icy lips touching her neck. She felt floaty when she woke up. Lighter. For the first time in months, thinking about sex had summoned memories of pleasant touches rather than cold stabs of pain.
“I want to keep you safe,” Natalya said. “To do that, I have to find out what you know.”
“You’re already doing that.” Evie’s voice was harsh to mask the emotion rising in it. She didn’t want to cry. “I’m answering all the questions from those patrol people.”
“Evie, it’s important.” Natalya put a hand over hers. “Maybe something you remember—”
“I don’t want to remember!” Evie yanked her hand away. “I don’t want to think about it at all.”
The pouch of salt was on the nightstand. She snatched it up, clutching it in her hands.
“I’d like you to go.”
There was stillness behind her. Natalya didn’t move or speak, and fear rose in Evie’s chest. She hadn’t denied Natalya before, not like this, and she only had her word the salt would work. Maybe she would get angry. Maybe she’d turn demonic again.
“You can’t bury all of this, Evie.”
Natalya stood and moved to the bedroom door. She looked resolute, as elegant as ever, but more stoic. A mask had slipped over her face, one of controlled calm. It relayed no other emotion.
“I promised to keep you safe, and your safety isn’t guaranteed as long as Varro wants you. I need to find out why he’s so intent on getting you back. I need you to remember.”
Then Natalya exited the bedroom and left Evie alone with her thoughts.
