room and put an arm out to guide me through. I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. Lutfi gasped and shoved me away from him.
“Run,” he grunted as I hit the floor.
I rolled just in time to see Sil—who had pulled Lutfi’s scimitar free while the Guard’s hands were occupied—use the weapon with merciless efficiency. Lutfi fell to the floor withouta sound. His head landed a few feet away, his amethyst eyes condemning me.
Sil turned to me and smiled. “Picked the lock,” he said proudly, still holding the bloody sword. I tried to tamp down my certainty that I’d just made a terrible mistake while Sil removed Lutfi’s sword belt and fastened it around his own waist, cinching it tight. He sheathed the scimitar and came toward me, his hand outstretched. His fingernails were disturbingly long and pointed. I wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. “Let’s go.”
“Um…I think I’ll just go on my own—”
“No, we can use you. You’re perfect.” His fingers curled around my upper arm, and he yanked me up. I was too shocked to fight back. I couldn’t stop staring at Lutfi’s slack face. I swear I could smell the rusty tang of his blood.
Sil tugged me roughly through the door. He stopped cold as a Guard entered the hallway from a room a few doors down.
It was Malachi.
He was wearing his leather armor and looked just as he had the first time I saw him through the eyes of my terrified friend. Only taller. More frightening. More beautiful. His eyes were on his shoulder as he fiddled with a buckle on his breastplate. His mouth twisted up at one corner in a secret smile. In the flash of a second before he saw us, I had time to wonder what thoughts could have put such a whimsical look on his serious face.
The smile disappeared, replaced by a grim line.
Sil and Malachi stared at each other, and then both moved simultaneously. Malachi reached for his knives, and Sil pulled me in front of him, shielding himself. Sil’s hand went around my neck. His fingernails scraped against my skin. I smelled incense and something else, something rancid. His breath on my neck. His mouth was an inch away from my throat. That familiar panic struck me. I had to get away from him.
Stay here, stay now
, I chanted to myself, chasing away the memories.
Stay focused
.
Get away
.
Just as my elbow arced forward, Malachi spoke very calmly. “Don’t move, Lela. Don’t fight him. Mazikin are venomous.”
That froze me in place. It wasn’t only what he had said. It was because, beneath the evenness of his voice, I heard it: fear. For me.
“Smart, Malachi.” Sil’s nose traced the junction of my shoulder and neck. I shuddered.
Malachi’s jaw clenched. That muscle on the left side started to jump.
Sil chuckled. “My teeth will be deep in her neck if you don’t get your hands away from those filthy knives of yours.” He sounded like he was having fun.
I stared at Malachi, wishing I could explain, wondering why I wanted to try, knowing there was no adequate explanation. Yet again I’d been an idiot. Desperate to escape, I’d overlooked every danger sign, believed every word Sil had said, and ignoredeverything Malachi had told me. I had underestimated Sil’s lethality and set up Lutfi, who’d spent the last second of his life trying to save mine, whose last word had been meant to ensure my survival.
“That’s better,” sneered Sil as Malachi raised his hands in the air. “Now, this girl and I are going to depart, and you are going to stay where you are. If I even think you are following, I will kill her, as slowly as possible.” He giggled as his fingernails skimmed along my collarbone. “I won’t extend her the same courtesy I did Lutfi, for instance.”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed in hatred as they shifted from me to Sil, but he didn’t look surprised. No doubt he’d already noticed Lutfi’s belt fastened at Sil’s waist. “I won’t follow,” he said icily. “She obviously wants to go
“Run,” he grunted as I hit the floor.
I rolled just in time to see Sil—who had pulled Lutfi’s scimitar free while the Guard’s hands were occupied—use the weapon with merciless efficiency. Lutfi fell to the floor withouta sound. His head landed a few feet away, his amethyst eyes condemning me.
Sil turned to me and smiled. “Picked the lock,” he said proudly, still holding the bloody sword. I tried to tamp down my certainty that I’d just made a terrible mistake while Sil removed Lutfi’s sword belt and fastened it around his own waist, cinching it tight. He sheathed the scimitar and came toward me, his hand outstretched. His fingernails were disturbingly long and pointed. I wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. “Let’s go.”
“Um…I think I’ll just go on my own—”
“No, we can use you. You’re perfect.” His fingers curled around my upper arm, and he yanked me up. I was too shocked to fight back. I couldn’t stop staring at Lutfi’s slack face. I swear I could smell the rusty tang of his blood.
Sil tugged me roughly through the door. He stopped cold as a Guard entered the hallway from a room a few doors down.
It was Malachi.
He was wearing his leather armor and looked just as he had the first time I saw him through the eyes of my terrified friend. Only taller. More frightening. More beautiful. His eyes were on his shoulder as he fiddled with a buckle on his breastplate. His mouth twisted up at one corner in a secret smile. In the flash of a second before he saw us, I had time to wonder what thoughts could have put such a whimsical look on his serious face.
The smile disappeared, replaced by a grim line.
Sil and Malachi stared at each other, and then both moved simultaneously. Malachi reached for his knives, and Sil pulled me in front of him, shielding himself. Sil’s hand went around my neck. His fingernails scraped against my skin. I smelled incense and something else, something rancid. His breath on my neck. His mouth was an inch away from my throat. That familiar panic struck me. I had to get away from him.
Stay here, stay now
, I chanted to myself, chasing away the memories.
Stay focused
.
Get away
.
Just as my elbow arced forward, Malachi spoke very calmly. “Don’t move, Lela. Don’t fight him. Mazikin are venomous.”
That froze me in place. It wasn’t only what he had said. It was because, beneath the evenness of his voice, I heard it: fear. For me.
“Smart, Malachi.” Sil’s nose traced the junction of my shoulder and neck. I shuddered.
Malachi’s jaw clenched. That muscle on the left side started to jump.
Sil chuckled. “My teeth will be deep in her neck if you don’t get your hands away from those filthy knives of yours.” He sounded like he was having fun.
I stared at Malachi, wishing I could explain, wondering why I wanted to try, knowing there was no adequate explanation. Yet again I’d been an idiot. Desperate to escape, I’d overlooked every danger sign, believed every word Sil had said, and ignoredeverything Malachi had told me. I had underestimated Sil’s lethality and set up Lutfi, who’d spent the last second of his life trying to save mine, whose last word had been meant to ensure my survival.
“That’s better,” sneered Sil as Malachi raised his hands in the air. “Now, this girl and I are going to depart, and you are going to stay where you are. If I even think you are following, I will kill her, as slowly as possible.” He giggled as his fingernails skimmed along my collarbone. “I won’t extend her the same courtesy I did Lutfi, for instance.”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed in hatred as they shifted from me to Sil, but he didn’t look surprised. No doubt he’d already noticed Lutfi’s belt fastened at Sil’s waist. “I won’t follow,” he said icily. “She obviously wants to go
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