“Badbreakup?”my nemesishadthe gall to ask.
“The worst. I slit his throat.”
“Thebreakupcould have beenworse,then.” His light tone matched my own.
Drip.
Baba watched us carefully, eating as if he enjoyed the meal—not a care in the world.
“Andwho has succeeded where he failed?”Asplit-second flash of something. . .feral in the Prince's eyes.
I almost spit out my sip of water. “Are you inquiring about my body count?” I asked in American English, because body count in Everennesse meant something far more literal, and far more bloody.
Renaud popped a piece of bread in his mouth. He barely ate, so why bother with the pretense? “I'm more interested in names.”
“You're insane.” Drip.
“Hmm. Dare I ask about age twenty?”
I smacked him with a withering look, my liver yellowing, because for all my internal promises that I would not avoid justice for Embry—I certainly wasn’t looking forward to it. I was almost certain Death By Vow would be cleaner.
“Maybe you should eat and not talk,” I said.
Drip.
My father closed his eyes.He asked for it,I wanted to say hotly, but I desperately reeledmyself in. ThePrince had offered me plenty of rope to hang us all with, and I’d gleefully looped the noose around my neck and started swinging.
I'dtoldBaba to leave me home. The invitation wasaddressedto me but. . .details.
Renaud reached out and took my fingers, lifting them slowly to his lips, not even trying to be discreet. I snatched my hand away. He caught and pressed it against the table, under his own—as if it were our bodies, and his bed. I felt heat in my cheeks, and silently cursed my ability to blush, knowing my skin tone mostly hid the tell-tale color.
“I could eatyou, Aerinne.”
Driiip. Screech. Crash.
I snatched up a paring knife and hada panicked eighth of a second to be glad my instincts didn't prompt me to grab my hiddenironblade before I slammed the weapon down through the hand ravaging mine.
Pain, bright and sharp.
I'dstabbed us both so hard the tip was embedded in the table, our hands bound together in a macabre union of flesh, silver, andblood.
I guessI'dmade my point.
Asourbloodmingled, static ripped up my arm again. This time it crawled inside, infiltrating my bloodstream. My power rose, its avatar purring, feeding off the crackle of energy.
Asmy wild, defensive temper so often did once satiated, it collapsed into bleached bones, leaving me to deal with the fallout.
Saliva flooded my mouth, mingling with blood as I reflexively bit the inside of my cheek. I needed this evening to end now.
What anexcellentexample of how to sign one's own writ of execution.Butthen Renaud was the only thing that triggered me in this fashion.
I was supposed to beworkingon this. Mytherapistwas definitely overpaid.
Yourtherapist,Darkan said, biting off each word,should be executed.
The Prince fixed me with glacial eyes. “Stand down.”
He wasn't talking to me.
