Page 36 of Vasmora

Cold hands gave a gentle twist of my arm, while the man with the purple monocle, the bloodbinder, as Loyce had called him, examined the skinny black tattoo he’d placed on my wrist back in the woods. The marking that prevented me from calling upon my whip, my Corvugon, or any of the glyphs I’d come to learn. “The binding is intact. I’m avraid I cannot ofver an explanation vor this.”

I’d never heard an accent like his before. Strangely articulate but grossly mispronounced, particularly his w’s and f’s. He spoke calmly, though, gently, reminding me of the town physician back in Foxglove. Such a stark contrast to the bootlicking bastard I’d perceived him to be back at the woods.

“It must be inherent,” he said, twisting in the direction of Loyce, who stood just inside the cell. Beside her, Captain Drefan’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he stared back at the bloodbinder, running that white vial back and forth along the chain around his neck. Three more guards stood posted in the corridor.

“Inherent,” Loyce echoed in a flat tone. “Is this common in mortals?”

The bloodbinder’s lips formed a grimace when he turned back to face me. “I’ve never known a vortal to know vot’s common.”

“It’s mortal, you imbecile. At least try to speak our language.”

He lowered his head and gave a nod. “Yes, Genral.”

Groaning, she yanked a dagger from a side holster. “So, there is no means of inflicting harm on her. How precious for her.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true. I was able send a current through the chain on her leg.” Crossing his arms, Drefan tipped his head, studying me. “Perhaps it’s only permanent damage she’s resistant to.”

“Then, she can’t be killed.” Scathing eyes met mine, and while I should’ve reveled in the satisfaction of the general’s anger, something told me the new discovery would only make things worse. Keeping her gaze on mine, she turned toward the bloodbinder. “What can we do about this, Velmor, hmmm?”

The bloodbinder sighed and lowered his head again. “I’m avraid I have no ansvor.”

Her jaw hardened and she threw her gauntlets onto the floor with a clang that echoed through the cell. “Then, you are useless. If I find that you’re protecting her, somehow, I will have you slaughtered.”

He winced. “I swear, Genral. I’m not protecting her.”

“Get out of my sight.”

The bloodbinder gave a curt nod and pushed to his feet, before shuffling out of the cell.

Hands behind her back, Loyce paced in front of me. “I’m told you enjoyed the gift I sent you. The mimicrow I’ve kept all these years.” She paused mid-stride, those predatory eyes undoubtedly watching for my reaction. “I often fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Have climaxed more times than I can count with that bird in the room.”

I didn’t even try to hide the disgusted twist of my lips. “You’re repulsive.”

“And you’re pathetic. Weak. Everything Zevander had little use for.”

I hated the sound of his name on her lips.

“Does it bother you when I speak of him?” She tipped her head, a glint of amusement in her expression. “How I know every inch of his body? His darkest pleasures? His unconventional needs. Does it trouble you to know that I fucked him?”

My teeth could’ve cracked with how hard I clenched my jaw, and I turned away, noticing a servant approach Captain Drefan and whisper something in his ear.

“You may be immune to suffering physical abuse. But there are so many ways to hurt you, little dove.” Loyce pressed her lips to my temple, and I grimaced, keeping my face turned away from her. “Captain, would you be so kind as to fetch Melantha?”

“Of course. I’ve also just been informed that Captain Zivant has arrived, General. He’s waiting in your office.”

She exhaled a groan. “I suppose I should get this meeting over with.”

“I’ll keep watch over things here until you return, General. And I’ll be sure to fetch Melantha, as you requested.”

“Good man,” she said, patting his shoulder as she passed. “Oh, and, Captain …? Bring Dravien, as well. It’s time he was properly punished for his betrayal.”

The captain’s lips pulled to a chilling grin. “Gladly.”

CHAPTER TEN

ZEVANDER

Rykaia leaned forward and gave Zevander a sniff. “There now, you smell much better.”