Page 34 of This Dark Descent
“I apologize, sir,” the servant said quickly. “Lord Adair was in too much of a hurry to wait for an announcement.”
Ari’s eyes flashed to the man’s right hand, where a hematite and diamond signet ring encircled one finger, just like Damien’s. His father was much older and ailing, which made this his brother.
“Is this not my home?” Lord Adair’s voice boomed. The servant bowed swiftly and backed out of the room.
“You don’t live here anymore, Loic.” There was an edge to Reid’s tone that surprised her. She’d heard him both grumpy and annoyed more often than not, but this sounded different. “In fact, I distinctly remember your father kicking you out years ago.”
Loic smiled the kind of smile that promised everything was just fine, right up until he snapped your neck. “Reid,” he said as if he’d discovered a rare prize. “It’s been far too long.”
“That would be because I go out of my way to avoid seeing you.”
“Afraid, are you, little spider?” Loic asked, and Ari had the sudden desire to wipe the smile off his face. She expected Reid to snap back, but the boy only clenched his jaw and looked away.
Loic descended the stairs into the foyer. “Not so brave without my brother here to protect you. Let’s say we play a game, like old times. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten a new design.”
Reid went utterly still. Widget leapt down to brush his leg, but he only stared at a spot on the ground as though it were the only thing he could see.
Be silent. Be careful.The familiar refrain began inside her. If Loic had even noticed her, he paid her no need. She could slip out the back door and be gone. Reid was Damien’s friend; surely Loic wouldn’t hurt him?
If you believed that, you wouldn’t be thinking about running.She gritted her teeth. Running was what she did before, abandoning everything at the first sign of trouble. It’d kept her alive, but it’d also kept her isolated and alone. It’d kept her afraid.
Be fearless, my love, said her Saba.
Ari stood, her cut-off wire still dangling from one hand, her fettling knife in the other. “Can we help you?” she asked. “Damien isn’t here.”
Loic halted, turning to her. Unlike his brother, his face was an open book. She could practically see the calculation in his gray eyes. Another person meant another variable. Did she matter? Would she interfere?
“And who,” he asked slowly, “are you?”
She forced herself to smile despite the nervous buzz rising in her ears. “I’m Arielle, a friend of your brother’s. Would you like to leave a message for him?”
Loic surveyed her clay-covered arms and the tools in her hands that suddenly felt very much like weapons. She clasped them tighter, funneling her nerves into her grip and trying to hold herself like Mikira in that alley.
“And what do you do for my brother, Arielle?” Loic asked.
“He commissioned her for a sculpture, obviously.” Reid gestured at her arms. He seemed to have recovered, but the edge to his voice was weaker now. Widget was still staring Loic down as if intending to devour him.
“I’m sure Lord Adair realized that, Reid,” Ari said with fake sweetness. “He’d have to be a fool not to figure that out, and you’re not a fool, are you, Lord Adair?”
Loic smiled rigidly. “Yes, you do seem like the sort he’d like. Tell me, girl, where is my little brother?”
“It’s beyond me to keep track of someone like him.” She grasped the other wooden toggle of her cutting wire and pulled it taut. “I’m just here for the sculpture.”
Loic eyed the wire. Ari simply smiled.
Then he came toward her.
She couldn’t help it—she stepped back. Loic was twice her size, his hands easily capable of wrapping around her neck. But it wasn’t her he reached for—it was the door.
“Loic!” Reid lurched after him, but it was too late.
He shoved past her into the workroom, where he took one look at the horse before his hands slammed into the soft clay of its neck. He tore it back out, pulling a fistful of clay with it. Then Reid was there, grabbing his arm. Loic sent him crashing into the desk. A snarl ripped through the air, and Widget launched at him, claws digging into his leg.
Loic kicked the cat off, sending him tumbling. Then he tore free thegolem’s ear, raked his fingers through its eyes, and slammed his forearm into the beast’s neck, crumpling its head. He drove a foot into its two front legs, sending the body crashing to the floor.
Hours and hours of painstaking labor fell apart before her into a pile of limbs. And when Loic was done, his hands dark with clay, he grabbed Ari by the chin, forcing her to look at him.
“I won’t forget your face,” he said.
