Page 60 of Nightshade

“You will think me a fool, if I do.”

“What does it matter what I think, when you should be dead. Tell me.”

“I think …” Panic swelled inside of her at the prospect of admitting such a thing. The arrogance of it. “I believe that … I am not meant to die yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I serve a purpose.”

“We all serve a purpose. Even Bishop Venable serves a purpose. Why should you be allowed to defy death?”

“I do not know. I should not be granted such exception.”

He reached out to cup her face and ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a fallen tear. “That is where you are wrong.”

“You caught me,” she said, returning to the moment. “How? It is impossible.”

“It is as I told you before. Some creatures were born to defy the limitations of what should be.” He bent forward and pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

Lustina wore a smile on her face, as she trudged back through the forest toward the Van Croix estate alone. To be seen with the baron would likely bring more trouble than she cared to face, more than the punishment of wandering off without someone to escort her.

When she finally reached the grounds, Drystan accosted her with his shoulders bunched, hands balled to fists at his sides. “Where have you been? Everyone has been looking for you!”

“Bishop Venable asked that I not be nearby during the healing ceremony for Lady Praecepsia.”

“I do not think he meant that you could run off and wander the woods alone.”

“I grew up in the forest. I am perfectly capable of finding my way around.”

“It isn’t right for a young lady to do so alone. Or were you not alone?” The way his eyes narrowed on her told Lustina he thought otherwise.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It seems the good baron has gone missing, also.”

Lustina willed herself to remain unaffected by his all-too-accurate observation. Lending so much as suspicion would prove to be detrimental. “If you are accusing that we had some sort of tryst, then I shall ask you to watch your tongue.”

“Why?”

“Because I am principled and would never endeavor to partake in something so lewd.”

“You are the daughter of a witch and a whore. It is not so unbelievable to me that you might.”

In one thoughtless swing, Lustina cracked her hand across Drystan’s face, which kicked his head to the side. A red mark flared where her palm had met his flesh, but she wouldn’t apologize for it. Not after such harsh and cruel words about her mother.

His lip peeled back into a snarl, and he lurched toward her, hand raised as if to return the slap. Instead, he caught himself. “You will regret that.” He snatched up her wrist and dragged her through the back door, into the kitchen, and into another, elaborately decorated room, where Bishop Venable stood with Lord Praecepsia and two other men she didn’t recognize.

“I found her, Your Excellency. Roaming the woods with young Lord Van Croix.”

Eyes burning with animosity bore down on Lustina, as she stood like a prisoner clutched in Drystan’s unyielding grip. “Is this true?”

It was only through formalities and a show of decency on his part that the bishop had bothered to ask instead of outright accusing her. He didn’t care to know the truth, which was why Lustina didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes.” After all, he would undoubtedly punish her, regardless of her response.

“Wait for me in the carriage,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I will see her to the carriage.” Drystan yanked her forward, as if he had any authority to do so, and when she wrenched her arm back, he tightened his grasp. The bruising of his fingers digging into her skin told Lustina he was furious.