Shadow's Claim

concerned.

He gazed away, looking troubled. “I told you I’d never hurt you. If given leave, I’d do nothing but protect you.”

He’d seen her reaction outside; she didn’t want him to think he was responsible for that. Not out of concern for him. She simply didn’t want the vampire to think he’d intimidated her. “Look, I just don’t like to walk alone at night. I might have . . . issues—ones that I don’t want to speak of.”

* * *

Naturally, Trehan wouldn’t rest until he was fully versed in these issues. “Your kingdom is secure. Most beings cower before your guardians. Not to mention that you’re a sorceress. What issues could you possibly have?”

Her eyes narrowed with irritation. “We’re not friends, Daciano. We’re not confidantes. Why should I tell you anything about myself? You are a threat to me. You blackmailed me today.”

“Unfortunate but necessary.” He leaned forward on the edge of the divan, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now back to the subject at hand. You whispered ‘Not again’ when you thought I was about to hurt you last night.”

She glanced away, clearly trying to remember what she’d said.

“Has another vampire touched you?”

“No!”

“A sorcerer then?” he quickly asked, setting away his goblet. “I read that Sorceri constantly battle for powers. Was yours stolen from you?”

“Another subject I don’t want to talk about!”

Trehan sensed he was close to the truth, so he pressed on mercilessly. “I also read that your kind consider a root ability akin to one’s soul?”

She peered hard into her cup. It shook in her hand. Her expression was a mix of sadness, frustration, and . . . shame.

This fragile creature had been violated like that? Someone had dared steal her power.

He was awash with pure rage—an unfamiliar emotion for him. Give me names, the scantest direction! Yet he leveled his tone when he asked, “What was your root power?”

In a voice just above a whisper, she said, “I was a . . . queen. The Queen of Hearts.”

“What could you do?”

“I could make a being’s heart stop. For all time. I could make an enemy’s chest explode.”

“Did you wield it to defend yourself?”

Staring past Trehan, she murmured, “I didn’t have time. They dropped from . . . I-I never saw them.”

“Them?” More than one? Barely managing to rein in his fury, he bit out, “Direct me to these thieves, and I will slaughter them.”

She glanced up at him, clearly startled by his tone.

“No one steals from us, dragă mea.”

Chapter 17

Bettina felt raw. Trehan Daciano now knew a secret only a handful of others shared. How had he gotten under her skin like that? And why was he so adamant about avenging her? “There is no us, vampire. Again, I’m here under duress.”

“Tell me who hurt you.”

“You’ve known me for twenty-four hours. Yet you’re willing to wade into danger, risking your life to avenge me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not a vampire. I can’t wrap my mind around this spontaneous protectiveness.”

“That part is not much different from a demon’s mate.”

Apparently, I don’t get that either.

“Twenty-two years ago, my Bride was born. For two decades she’s been without my protection. From what I can glean, that span of years has been treacherous for her. Simply put: someone hurt her—I need to make that being suffer in unspeakable ways.”

Daciano’s strength and will were nearly palpable, a heady combination. She finally understood why some women were hopelessly attracted to dangerous men. Not that she was. But she could see it.

“Can your power be returned to you?” he asked.

“Morgana has promised to do just that before I wed.”

“A condition of this tournament? But isn’t she worried about who the victor might be?”

“She doesn’t see the horrific ones as . . . horrific. I just know that this tournament is very important to her.” Bettina had begun to suspect that there was more to this entire event than she could fathom. Was this a Lore power play, a twist in the great Accession?

Were they all cogs in a wheel? And if so, who was turning the crank?

“Does your godmother possess your power now?”

I’m losing faith that she’ll find it. Bettina shrugged.

“So she doesn’t. What if I returned it to you?” he asked, his eyes flickering green to onyx once more. Apparently, he was keen on this idea. “And then I could punish those foolish enough to harm you. Give me direction, and they will die bloody.”

Die bloody. How tempting. She imagined each of those four Vrekeners squirming on the ground in his own blood, voice hoarse from screams. Would they beg for mercy as she had?

But she had no names, no direction to give Daciano. Besides, she’d never tell the vampire what had happened to her. It wasn’t his business—and it was humiliating. “I can’t talk . . . I won’t talk about it.”

“Just tell me—was it a sorcerer who struck against you?”

“I’m under Morgana’s protection; no Sorceri would dare. And if a sorcerer had stolen my power, then I’d be an Inferi, a slave.” Because of Bettina’s halfling lineage, it was possible for her to be both a demon royal—and a Sorceri slave.

“Vrekeners hunt your kind.”

“They do. Have forever . . .” she murmured, her thoughts shuttling back to that night.

Early in the attack, the leader had used that scythe of black flames to siphon away her power. She recalled thinking, At least they aren’t planning to kill me, wouldn’t go to this trouble.

Then she’d remembered: they would steal her sorcery just to prevent it from being reincarnated into a newborn Sorceri upon Bettina’s death.

Once the leader had finished stripping her of her power, he’d roared, “Your kind killed my father, crippled my brother forever!” as he’d launched his boot into her face.

She shuddered now, and Daciano noticed.

“You might as well tell me, Bettina. Eventually I will find out.”

Refusing to have more of her past laid bare, she inhaled for calm, then attempted to steer the conversation back to the tournament. “You assume you’ll be alive that long? You could meet up with Goürlav tomorrow. I heard his blood spawns monsters.”

The vampire gave her an indulgent look. “I’ll deal with Goürlav when the time comes.”

“How can you be so confident? You’re not invincible,” she said, hoping she sounded natural. If she had to tolerate Daciano’s interrogation, she might as well help Cas. “You’re not without weaknesses.”

“No, I’m not. Nor am I inclined to discuss any with you so you can relay them directly to Caspion.”

She flushed guiltily.