Page 123 of Tainted Souls
“I guess I did,” I say, keeping my voice neutral despite the sudden quickening of my pulse.
“I’ve learned some things since joining the Ravens.” He places his first card down. “Did you know she was one of them?” He keeps his focus on his cards, but I can see the building tension in his shoulders. “She wasn’t just any Raven either. She founded them.”
I nearly drop my hand. “What?”
My mother—the mysterious woman who vanished when I was a child, leaving behind nothing but fragments of memoryand a hollow ache that never quite healed—created the very organization I’ve been fighting against?
My mind reels with this revelation. “You’re lying,” I whisper, but there’s no conviction behind it.
“Ask Ace,” he simply says. “Turns out she was like a mentor to him. Taught him a lot about purpose, how to lead without being controlled, freedom, and choosing your own chains, or breaking them altogether. He knew her in ways we never did.”
“How did they meet? What was she like?”
He finally meets my gaze. “It’s not my place to tell.”
I grab his wrist, stopping his movements. “Please.”
“Some things should come from those who knew her best, Sister.” He gently extracts his wrist from my grip, a conflict playing across his features. “Be on your best behavior for dinner tonight, you might learn more than I could ever tell you.”
“I’m allowed dinner outside this cell?”
“Under watch. Show him you can be reasonable.” Saul deals the last hand. “He respects directness, just not when it’s wrapped in hostility.”
I stare at my cards without really seeing them.
My father’s killer knew my mother better than I, her own daughter, ever did.
Ace, with his unreadable eyes and silver tongue. Ace, who shattered everything the night he took my father from me. He knew her. Sat with her. Learned from her. Trusted her. And she trustedhim.
Did she know what he would become? What he would do? Did she see something in him I can’t—or refuse to? A sour taste creeps up the back of my throat. What did she tell him? What pieces of herself did she give him, while I was left with only lullabies I barely remember and grainy photographs that stared back like strangers?
I clench the cards tighter, the edges digging into my palm.
Maybe Saul is right. Maybe Iwilllearn more tonight. But I’m not sure I want to hear it. Not if it comes from the mouth of the man who stole everything from me. Not if it forces me to admit that I’ve been playing the wrong side of the board this entire time.
“Fine,” I concede reluctantly. “I’ll be civil.” Because I want answers.
“That’s all I ask.” He plays his next card. “He was Subject W-1, you know?”
I blink, trying to force the memory into focus. I was too young to understand the full scope of the world I was born into, yet I remember the fear in my chest, the way everyone seemed to hold its breath.
Subject W-1… Whiteshade… a wild vampire almost impervious to the injuries that so easily harmed other vampires.
It was a scientific breakthrough both terrifying and fascinating in equal measure. Every scrap of knowledge had to have come from brutal procedures that tested the limits of his body, leaving scars no one could ever see. From the day he escaped, the name Whiteshade came to define every vampire of his kind, whispering of inexplicable power.
“I didn’t.” And I shouldn’t care.
We continue our game, but my mind is elsewhere, turning over the things I just learned and how to slip it into conversation later without tipping my hand. Tonight, I’ll face Ace not as an enemy, but as someone seeking truth. Whether I’ll like what I discover remains to be seen.
As Saul gathers the scattered cards from our final hand, he stands to leave. “I’ll come for you at six and bring something nice to wear.”
Left alone again, I pace the confines of the room, mind churning with questions I’ve carried since childhood.
My mother, the founder of the Ravens? The person who created this network of vampires that now holds me captive? Worked with this leader who is powerful enough to challenge both humans and other vampire clans? I remember fragments of gentle hands braiding my hair and a soft voice singing me to sleep. I struggle to make sense of it all.
I stop in front of the cracked mirror, studying my reflection, barely recognizing myself. The woman staring back at me looks haunted and uncertain. For the first time, I wonder if I’ve been running from more than just vampires all these years.
Maybe I’ve been running from myself.
