Page 25 of Vicious Kings
Silence lingers between us for about five seconds before Anastasia breaks it.
"So," she says, sauntering over to Madame Loriyne's carefully constructed nest, "goth chick's got a story. Spill."
"You first," I counter, watching as she starts pulling apart the nest with vindictive glee. "Are you an omega too?"
She snorts, tossing a silk pillow across the room with enough force to knock over a vase that's probably worth a fortune. It shatters. "No, the Fae just can't get enough of my magic pussy, so they keep hauling me back here."
The laugh escapes before I can stop it. It's a real laugh. When was the last time that happened? Probably before my Unmasking, when my biggest concern was whether I'd get the blood binding resonance like my mother or?—
Nope. Not going down that road. Not when I finally have something interesting happening in this velvet-lined prison.
"Seriously though," I press, moving closer to help her destroy Madame Loriyne's precious nest. "If you're not an omega, why are you here?"
Anastasia pauses in her destruction, fixing me with eyes that are way too knowing for someone who looks like she should be fronting a punk band. "You really don't know?"
"Know what?"
"This place isn't just for omegas, goth chick. It's for any human the Fae consider... special. And by special, I mean useful." She kicks at a pile of cashmere throws. "Omegas are just the most common type of special."
"And you're special how?"
She grins, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "That's a third date kind of question. You haven't even bought me dinner yet."
Fair enough. I've got my own secrets, I can respect hers.
"This is shit," Anastasia declares, surveying the ruined nest with satisfaction. "Even I know a craptastic nest when I see one. That bitch has no business teaching this stuff."
"I wouldn't really know," I admit. "I'm not a nesting expert myself."
"So what's your deal? Lori mentioned improper origins. That's her fancy way of saying you're not from one of the approved bloodlines."
I'm definitely not from one of those.
I consider how much to tell her. The smart thing would probably be to keep my mouth shut, play the confused newly-discovered omega who doesn't know any better. But if I'm going to survive long enough to get revenge, I need allies and Anastasia might be my only shot.
"I'm a hunter," I say, watching her face carefully for a reaction.
Her eyes widen, then narrow, then widen again. It's like watching someone go through all five stages of grief in fast-forward. "No fucking way."
"Yes fucking way."
"A hunter. An actual, honest-to-gods hunter. And you're an omega." She starts laughing, high and slightly hysterical. "Oh, that's beautiful. That's so fucking beautiful I could cry. How pissed was your family?"
"Pissed enough to pump me full of heat-inducing drugs and dump me in the woods for the Fae to find."
Her laughter cuts off like someone flipped a switch. "Theywhat?"
"You heard me."
"Man, that's cold." She runs a hand through her tangled hair. "And I thought my family was fucked up. They just sold me to the highest bidder."
"Sold you?"
She waves a hand dismissively. "Long story. Involves a debt, some really bad decisions on my father's part, and me being the only valuable thing he had left to bargain with. But at least he didn't try to kill me first."
"They didn't try to kill me," I protest, though even as I say it, I'm not sure it's true. "They just... left me."
"They left you in heat in Fae territory. Sure. Totally not attempted murder."
