Page 88 of Tainted Souls
There’s a flicker of frustration before he masks it with a dangerous smile. A sharp knock interrupts whatever he planned next.
A guard appears at the entrance, looking uncomfortable.
“What?” Cain snaps, not releasing me.
“Lady Clementine requests your presence immediately. She says it’s urgent.”
Cain’s expression darkens. “Tell my mother I’m busy.”
Mother?
The guard shifts nervously. “She was most insistent, my lord. Something about unexpected visitors at the surface entrance.”
“For Blod’s sake.” Cain releases my wrist. “Fine. I’m coming.”
He rises from the pool without shame, water cascading down his pale form as he reaches for a towel. Eyes averted, my mind races despite the herbal fog.Clementine birthed this piece of shit?
I try to picture it: bedtime stories, scraped knees, soft kisses on the forehead. It’s absurd. Like imagining a wolf being tucked in at night.
On the other hand, I am not surprised. She is a menace herself.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Cain says as he dresses.
“Yes, my lord,” the guard responds, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Cain pauses at the doorway, looking back at me with a smirk that’s all mockery and veiled warning. It chills me more than if he’d shouted. “Don’t even let her out of the bath.”
Then he’s gone, his footsteps fading as he hurries to answer his mother’s summons. I sink deeper into the water, letting it cover my mouth as I consider my options. Whatever’s happening at the surface entrance might be my only chance at escape.
But first, I need to get past the guard.
The herbs make thinking difficult, but one fact cuts through the haze: Clementine is Cain’s mother. And mothers haveinfluence, even over monsters like him. If I can somehow get to her, appeal to her… No, that’s naive. She is clearly in on his plan. Though the knowledge itself is valuable, another piece in understanding the hierarchy of this place.
I glance at the guard, who stands rigidly by the door, eyes averted. Young, probably a recent turn. Nervous around nudity, which means he still has human hang-ups. I can use that.
“Could you hand me a towel?” I call out, trying to sound small and vulnerable.
He hesitates, but not out of innocence. His gaze flicks toward the corridor, listening.
Then, without looking at me, he steps closer and sets the towel on a nearby bench. When I’m about to say something, he presses a finger to his mouth, signaling me to stay quiet.
The shift is jarring. He’s no longer the meek, unsure fledgling, but someone playing a careful game. His posture changes subtly: straighter, more alert. Every movement is done with intent.
Whoever he is, he’s not just a guard.
After a moment of strained silence, he finally speaks. “Coast is clear. Now get out of that ridiculous bath. We don’t have much time.”
I blink at him, still sluggish from the herbs swirling in my system. “Don’t look, I’m naked.”
“Like there’s anything to see,” he snorts, not even glancing my way.
“Rude.”
“It’s me, idiot. Your brother.” He turns just enough for me to catch the edge of a smirk, though there’s a flicker of impatience beneath it, like he’s annoyed I didn’t figure it out sooner.
I’m completely and utterly dumbfounded. “Saul?”
CHAPTER 18
