Lili St Crow - Defiance

“Nothing ever changes.” Leon’s mouth pulled down bitterly. “You’d do well to remember that, Skyrunner.”

“Some things change.” She watched me, steadily. “You’re proof of that, aren’t you. Leontus. ”

I honestly couldn’t tell what the fuck. It went right over my head. “Wait. You’re saying Christophe would . . . would give Graves to . . .” The only possible explanation took shape inside my head. “Give him to Sergej.” The name burned my lips, and Ash shivered. “Because . . . of me?”

“Maybe not necessarily.” Leon shifted his weight slightly. He had the look of someone smelling something unpleasant who couldn’t move away. That slightly set, slightly disgusted expression, mouth tight and eyebrows level—you can see it on plane trips or bus rides all the time. Usually when someone’s sitting next to someone else who doesn’t have the same hygiene standards. “Maybe he gave the loup-garou to Anna, who—”

I shook my head. Curls fell in my face. “But Anna . . . she hated Chris. You were there, you saw as much!”

He shrugged, the sharp points of his shoulders coming up, dropping. I had a mad thought of offering him a sandwich. Leon spread his hands, a helpless gesture. “He could have played her for a fool, too. Let her think she was striking at you. It has a certain symmetry.”

“But Anna had just finished . . .” The enormity of it walloped me sideways. I held the envelope up, sweating fingers crushing the paper. It was thick, stuffed full. “He couldn’t have. She’d just . . . I’d just finished having a fight with her. She wasn’t about to go meeting up with him. She didn’t even know he was around.”

Leon let his hands drop. “If you say so, Milady. In any case, you have a decision to make.”

I set the plate aside on the rucked-up covers. Nat twitched. I ripped the envelope open, and the sound of tearing paper was like my heart breaking. I felt it, a sharp tearing in my chest, and a steady slow leaking.

Leon actually took two steps back, his boots soundless on the hardwood.

Ash’s head popped up again. He studied me for a moment, then actually climbed up on the bed while I slid the six sheets out and opened them up. A whiff of apple pie rose, and my stomach closed around the lump of rock that had been food a little while ago.

I won’t push, and I don’t pry. All I ask is a little attention .

I opened up the sheaf of paper. Have you ever wanted to wash your mouth out with bleach? I wanted to scrub every part of me that had ever flushed each time Christophe got close to me. I spread the sheets of paper out, crackling, and stared at them.

“Jesus,” I whispered. Everything blurred. It wasn’t just dusk slipping across the sky, creeping in through the skylights. It was hot water in my eyes. My chest ached. I blinked furiously, and a hot drop fell on my hand, spattering. I was shaking.

Pictures. A list of locations, crossed off. One circled. More pictures on copy paper, showing different angles. A mansion; the address was out in Queens. A folded city map, beat up and scuffed like it had been carried in a pocket for a long time. Notations in a thin calligraphic script, I’d seen Christophe’s handwriting on Council paperwork.

This looked similar.

“No.” It didn’t even sound like my voice. Ash reached across me, snagged another sandwich, and settled back on his haunches. At least someone would get the benefit of all that food. “Oh, hell no.”

Everything clicked together inside my head, and my face settled against itself. It felt frozen, and heavy, and just a little bit like Dad’s face must have felt when he was wearing his stare-down look.

“What are you going to do?” Leon took another two steps back. Like he was getting ready for an explosion.

I looked up. Dibs stared at me, deathly pale. We watched each other for a few seconds, the blond wulf and me.

He already looked hopeless. And I was just about to make it worse.

“Get out,” I whispered.

He stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I hoped like hell he couldn’t read my face. At least the skin lay stiff and masklike against my bones; maybe it would help keep what I was planning a secret.

I slid off the bed. Swayed for a moment, and Nat reached forward as if she was going to help me. My hand flashed out, and I slapped hers away. The sound of the slap was like the last piece of my heart shivering into pieces.

Dibs let out a small, soft, hurt sound. Leon was watching me very carefully, his odd-colored eyes narrowed.

I found my voice again. “Get out. All of you, out .”

“Milady—” Nat had gone white, and I didn’t want to see the flash of pain in her wide blue eyes, no trace of yellow glow left in the irises. I didn’t want to see the way she’d grabbed her hand, either, as if she’d touched a hot stove.

Or as if I’d hurt her, with just my puny human strength.

So I half-turned and pointed at Ash. “I said get out . And take him with you.” My hands turned into fists, and I dropped them.

Ash looked at me gravely, his scarred boyface set and pale. His head was cocked just a little, and the way his hair fell in his scar-jawed face hurt me suddenly. Would Graves end up like this?

Broken?

Oh, hell no. Everything that had shattered came together inside me again, sharp edges sliding together like puzzle pieces.

“Dru—” Leon, now. He stepped forward, but I rounded on him.

“I am svetocha ,” I said quietly. “And I want you all to get out of my goddamn bedroom. Right. Goddamn. Now.”

The words rocked him back on his heels. Dibs let out a squeak and bolted for the door, fumbled with the locks, flung it open, and was gone. I pointed at Ash. “You. Down.”

He hopped fluidly off the bed and crouched, hands and feet on the floor.

“Take him, Nathalie. Ash, go with Nat. Don’t give her any trouble.” Who was the girl issuing orders in this crisp, cold voice? It couldn’t be me. My face was frozen, and the ice was starting to work down to the rest of me. I had to get them out of here. Because once dusk hit and Christophe got back, good luck doing any of what I had planned.

“Milady—” Leon attempted, again. Maybe he thought he was going to calm me down.

That was so not happening. The entire room flexed around me, a sudden drenching wash of spice exhaling from my skin, and an odd crackle ran along the surface of my skin.

“Get. The. Fuck. OUT! ” The last word was a yell, and Nat actually jumped out of her chair. She reached down, her fingers slipping through Ash’s greasy hair, and the two of them were suddenly at the door. Ash looked back, but Nat jerked on his hair like it was a leash, and he piled out into the hall with her.

Leon and I faced each other. His shoulders were up, but high flags of color stood out on his cheeks, and he wore an odd, set little smile that was more like a grimace of pain.

“What are you going to—” he began, but I took two steps toward him. My hands were knotted up so tight they made little creaking sounds, and I felt little prickles in my palm that weren’t just fingernails. My wrists ached, twin fiery bracelets. The aspect slid over me, oil-hot and soothing, and for once I didn’t care that my teeth were tingling and he could almost certainly see the little fangs dimpling my lower lip.

I held his gaze, and his pained expression grew deeper, like silt building in the bottom of a clear pond.

I didn’t care. “Get. Out. Or I will hit you.”

He backed up, watching me like you’d watch an angry rattler. For a single second I felt a flash of guilt. Nat and Dibs would probably never forgive me for losing my shit; I’d probably scared the hell out of both of them. Hurt their feelings big-time. And Leon?