Page 43 of This Dark Descent
She sat huddled on a bench in the jockeys’ locker room. She’d found a private corner, and incredibly, no one had disturbed her. Not even Damien, who she couldn’t bear to face. She’d lost him his family’s racing business. His reaction would not be kind.
The door swung open with a low groan, and a familiar voicetskedquietly. The sound trailed cold claws down her spine.
“My, my, Miss Rusel,” Rezek practically purred. “What a mess you’ve made.”
The room was in shambles around her. The wooden locker was broken, the shelves askew, the mirror cracked. She didn’t even remember destroying them.
She fought to control her breathing, to seal away her pain so Rezek couldn’t feed on it, but it was too raw. She’d lost the ranch, trapped her father in a life of service to a demon, and put her sisters on the street.
So much for wanting the Rusel name to mean something again. She’d only ground it deeper into the dirt.
She felt Rezek behind her a second before his hand came down on her shoulder, his fingers digging beneath the bone. It wasn’t the pain that nearly made her sick. It was the realization that Rezek had never touched her before, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
“You’re bleeding,” he said simply.
Her left arm was coated crimson. The wound had mostly crusted and dried, but still leaked rivulets of red.
Rezek brushed his fingers down her arm, lingering over the wound. They came away stained with blood, and Mikira shivered. He slid onto the bench facing the opposite direction of her.
“You came so very close,” he lamented. “That horse of yours is rather remarkable.”
Atara.
She’d left the mare standing in the clearing and staggered into the locker room before anyone could stop her. Had someone tended to the horse? Guilt shuddered beneath the numbness.
Rezek gripped the bench and leaned back so he could see her face. For a moment, he simply drank in the sight of her. Then he said, “I want to make you a new deal.”
Her heart lurched. “What?”
“A new deal,” he repeated slowly, as if warning her not to make him do it again. “Losing their racing business will be a blow to the Adairs, but it won’t crush them the way I want, and Damien will find a way to recover. I need something that will destroy them—that will destroy him.”
Finally, she forced herself to fully meet his gaze. He stared back, seemingly pleased that she had. “What are you asking of me?”
“I want you to spy on Damien Adair.”
She stilled, memories rising of breaking bone, of red flecks on a pristine white sleeve. Then her gaze dropped to Rezek’s bloodstained fingers.
“And in exchange?”
He laughed once, short and sharp. “Bold of you to assume you have the power to ask anything of me. I hold everything you care for.”
His words were weapons, each one tearing a new hole. She felt herself sway. Rezek’s hand closed around her arm, too close to the wound to be accidental, and she hissed against the flare of pain.
“But as I said, I am not a villain.” His voice dropped low, almost caressing. “If you accept, I’ll reinstate you into the race. Our bargain from before will continue. You will still have your chance to win.”
“Why?” Rezek had finally gotten what he wanted, and now he was willing to risk it again?
He released her, his palm stained red. “My reasons are my own. Do you accept?”
“Damien will never believe you just let me back in. He’ll be suspicious.”
“Let me handle the little Adair.”
Mikira hesitated, and Rezek eyed her. “Come now, Miss Rusel. Don’t tell me you’ve grown attached. Damien is everything you hate.”
“He’s better than you,” she snapped.
“He is me.”
