Page 25 of A Touch of Poison
“You don’t mean that,” he murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear. “It’s just the drink talking.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe the brandy had affected me and I hadn’t realised. Did that make it wrong, though? Or was it a truth the drink had allowed me to say?
If the poison had killed me, my death (and thus my life) would’ve had meaning. Now…
I shook my head.
I needed direction. I needed something to do. I needed to not feel like unCavendish was ruling my fucking life from beyond the grave. The poison was his. I was herebecause of him. And this necklace—this fucking necklace was like his fingers around my throat.
I didn’t even knowwhy. Who was he working for? Were they here in Tenebris? In the palace? Were they still after Bastian? Or me?
What—orwhohad put him on my path? On Ella’s… on Lara’s?
“Kat, I…” Bastian started closer, stopped, let his hands fall to his sides. The broad expanse of his chest heaved a few times before he spoke again.
Shoving away the questions chasing through my mind, I watched the glint of his piercing—better that than meeting his gaze.
“I’m sorry.” His shoulders sank. “I didn’t realise how cruel it was to lock you in here.” He looked around the room as if seeing it afresh.
I was only too happy to pretend I hadn’t said what I’d just said. This argument was just about being locked up. The dark turn of my thoughts—let him believe that was down to alcohol.
“I’ve been so absorbed with my work, and…” He bowed his head, pain etched between his eyebrows. “No, it isn’t that. Kat, I wanted to keep you safe.”
All this, for safety? My obsession. The gods had a shitty sense of humour sometimes.
“Locking me up is not keeping me safe. It’s torture.”
As he met my gaze, every cool edge of Business Bastian melted away. The man standing before me now was pained, contrite, and, judging by the way he clenched and unclenched his hands, torn. “I’m sorry. Truly. I promise I’ll fix this first thing in the morning.”
“Will I be able to go outside?”
“Yes, of course. I’m…” He shook his head. “Tomorrow, you’ll see the city, safely.I will fix this.”
The city. Beautiful and dangerous, just like fae.
But it held answers. Someone had to know about unCavendish. I had this necklace, and although it felt like a collar binding me to his leash, it was also a starting point.
Bastian had made it clear he wasn’t going to share his work and secrets with me. If I wanted to know who unCavendish was working for—and I needed to, for my sake and for Lara’s memory—I was going to have to find out for myself.
In silence, Bastian put the decanter away, and I let him usher me to my room. The fae lights dimmed as he left.
The shadow of his feet remained at the crack beneath my door for a long while.
10
Kat
Bastian was true to his word and at some ungodly hour the next morning, I found myself walking through the palace corridors with him. Target practice, he’d said—I needed to be able to protect myself.
I’d take that over being locked in his rooms.
I’d certainly take that over remembering what I said last night.
That wasn’t what I really thought about my life; I just needed something to do. I had to think it was worthwhile to have spent so many years clinging on to it.
Or was I just afraid of the alternative?
At my side, Bastian still looked tired—maybe even more so. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but would soon. He must’ve already gone to the Night Queen before she sank into her enchanted slumber. He couldn’t have had much sleep.
