Burnt Devotion (36 page)

“So, he has seen you, then?” Edmund’s eyes flashed with greed again, desperate and needy as he watched me, unwavering as he held me in place.

“Yes.”

I would have thought the single word would have brought him joy with how he had taken the news so far, but in no more than a flash of light, the greed and desire that had filled him departed, leaving a mask of fury.

His eyes were dark, as he growled at me, “And what do you think will happen if he chooses to give Ilyan the information of your visit?”

I flinched at the ice in his voice, the carefully masked disgust that rang clear. I knew he had meant to manipulate me with the fear, but I felt none of it. It only ran through me like water as my own smile spread.

I took a step closer to him, his body stiffening in expectation of what, I wasn’t sure. He should know I wasn’t foolish enough to attack him. No matter how much power my body held, it still would not be enough to face him.

I wasn’t foolish enough to try.

I
was
foolish enough to face him for this, however.

He thought me to have failed, yet he shouldn’t be so naïve. He was the one who had raised me, after all, trained me, turned me into what I was.

For the first time, I felt as though I had lived up to that.

“That won’t happen.” I was sure of myself, a fact that only enraged him more. My own joy at the game grew with what I knew to be coming.

“How can you be so certain, Ovailia?” It was a snap that bit through me, but I ignored it as well as the warning in his eyes. I ignored the way his guards flinched and moved against the wall in preparation for what was coming.

“Because of what I did to Thomas.”

His rage froze in place. His face was stuck in confusion until what I had said began to slip into place, his dislike for Thom fueling a whole other set of emotions.

“Ah, yes, the most foolish and useless of my children. I’m always surprised to hear he has evaded me,” he sneered. “Tell me, what did you do to him?”

“I poisoned him.”

“Poison? From the Vilỳs?”

My smile only grew, the complexity of what I had done, of what I had created, swelling through me. Even my father with his brilliant mind could not see it.

An exhilaration twisted through me, tensing in my shoulders as I lifted my chin, ready to tell him and see the look in his eyes that I desired above all other.

“No father, with something the mortals do. It reacts to the body like a přetížení dávka but cannot be healed the same way. If he missteps even a little bit, I will destroy his dearest friend.”

“Control.” It was one word laced with so much emotion I could have bathed in it.

He looked at me as he processed what I had said, his hand lifting to press against my cheek. I froze, waiting for what would come next.

A pat or a slap.

Pride or distaste.

“Just as you have taught me, Father.” It was my last plea, and I was certain the tone in my voice revealed that. Right then, I didn’t care.

“And I couldn’t be prouder.” He smiled at me, his lips curling in a long, greasy line that oozed into me in a relaxing warmth I hadn’t felt from him in what seemed like centuries.

Right then, I couldn’t have been prouder to be his daughter.

I would do anything for him.

“Take it out,” was my first thought since waking. It seeped out of me in a moan that sounded more pained than pleading, the ache of my body following right behind.

I was sure I was awake, although I wasn’t positive why I had been sleeping in the first place.

I wasn’t certain of anything, really, except for the dim, red hue that cast over my closed eyes and the soft, rough feel of old cotton sheets against my skin. Those I was sure of, but where I was, how I had gotten here, and in some small respect, even who I was remained a mystery.

Muscles ached and throbbed over me as I shifted my weight, trying to pull myself to sitting, only to have my muscles ache more in protest. My eyes were a soft weight as they fluttered open, the bright and dark of the strange red light burning through me as they attempted to adjust.

When they did, they only brought more confusion. They only brought tall, sweeping ceilings and old buttresses that, while part of me thought they should be familiar, they weren’t.

Nothing about this was familiar.

You’re home.

The voice was a distanced growl within me, a hum that bridged the reality of now and before.

I jerked.

It was a hollow sound that moved through me and became something deeper. Something more frightening.

It was then that it all came back.

I could see it all. The city we had worked so hard to get to. The rumble of the earth as the sky had dimmed around us. The screams and wind as the Vilỳs my father had mutated attacked us from all sides. Mostly, it was the voice—the voice that had rampaged through me, terrorized me. The taunts I had hoped would have become more manageable; instead, they had become an uncontrollable force I didn’t think I could have defeated had I tried.

And I had tried.

You haven’t tried hard enough.

But I had.

I had tried until the moment I had begged Wyn to remove the painful voices from me, until the world had become black. And now I had awakened in this strange place with the hollow sounds of breathing filtering toward me from all sides and distant footsteps echoing through the cavernous space.

The space I knew I could recognize even if it wasn’t familiar.

This cathedral was one I had only heard tell of—the massive holy place that stood in the center of Prague. And now I was here.

I’m here, too.

So is Ilyan…

You should kill them…

No.

Kill them all.

“No.” The word was calm as I stared at the ceiling, listening to the voice that had once been so loud and sure and was now distanced and fragmented, like the transmission was broken.

No.

Like the receiver had been removed.

The shard had been removed.

You can never escape me.

I think I already have, Father.

He yelled in anger at my reply, but the sound was distanced, my mind almost peaceful. It was like waking up from a deep sleep and having everything around me be new. Even if the voices were still there, they only seemed like a distanced memory now.

My hand shook as I lifted it to my chest, my fingers fluttering against my bare chest as they trailed toward my heart, toward the dozens of scars that had been cut through the skin straight to my heart. Straight to that battered, beating thing my father had used to control me and everyone around me for so long.

For the first time, right in that moment, I had regained control. My heart was mine once again.

Not completely. Not quite.

I couldn’t help smiling at the faint taunt, my heart not even so much as twisting in response.

Everything had changed.

The pain that had been there for so long was no longer an ache. The heaving agony of what he had forced me to endure was no longer a torture.

The voices were still there, but the sound was distant and easily forgotten. Although the madness was still pulling at my gut in all the wrong ways, something had changed.

The remote control they had instilled in me was no longer controlling my every move.

I pressed my hand against my chest, as if waiting for the sign that it was still there; however, it was nothing more than the heaving beat that promised me I was still alive.

Suddenly, the large stone archways that hung above me did not seem so old. The stone seemed brighter, the red hue of the sky giving everything a glistening, rosy glow.

You are still right where I want you.

Strangely, I didn’t care.

“It’s the St. Vitus Cathedral.” I had only heard the depth of his kind voice once or twice, but even now, in the strange place, it filled me with the same calm it had before.

I turned toward Dramin’s voice. On instinct, I almost expected the old man to be sitting beside me, drinking out of one of those ugly mugs. However, there was nothing, only the cavernous space of what had obviously been a dorm.

I would have expected pews; instead, there were rows and rows of the same beds. White wrought iron frames and sagging mattresses made up with over-washed crisp sheets. It was like something I had seen in a million movies.

An orphan grew up in some church setting, only to be inducted into some bizarre adventure. There was a book one of my nannies would have read me about that. Something along the lines of girls and lines and a tiger with bathroom issues.

I couldn’t remember.

The beds lined either side of the large hall, stacked one after another like dominos. Most of them were empty, with the exception of one a few feet away on my left where a small, dark-haired boy lay. Another was on the other side where my brother lay sleeping as if he was dead. The image was a weird jolt to my spine, one that probably would have grown into a panic if it wasn’t for Dramin who sat in the bed beside him, looking as unconcerned as though Thom was sleeping. I hoped that was the case.

Dramin was propped up against piles of pillows as if he could no longer support himself. Then again, judging by the bandages that were taped to his neck, I was sure he couldn’t.

I had only seen Dramin once before, and then I had been so bogged down by my demons I hadn’t really seen him. Not really. I had only seen the shadows of my subconscious. I had only seen the mutated reality that had been handed to me.

Now, looking at him from across the brightly lit hall, his face beaming with a positivity I didn’t think was possible given the situation, I couldn’t help seeing him. It was like someone had taken Sain, taught him to laugh at a young age, and then wiped the irritation out of his brow with a damp cloth.

Something about the man was intriguing, like family I didn’t know I had had.

“Excuse me?” I could barely get the words out.

“St. Vitus,” he said without looking at me, his focus up toward the ornate architecture that hung above us. “I knew you were wondering, so I am answering. Also, you were brought here by Ilyan. Wynifred had to put you under after your little … shall we say,
episode
?”

Episode, he says. If only they knew what you are really capable of.

If only they knew I created you to kill them.

To kill all of them.

No.

It was one word, and I twitched as I attempted to push him out of my mind, but my reaction was more than that. It was something that, while it might have gone unnoticed by Dramin, meant the world to me.

I stared at him as if he was some sort of psychic, but he only smiled, lifting his ugly mug to me with a chuckle. It’s not like he needed to say anymore. I had been around Sain enough over the past few months to know how a Drak’s mind worked.

So have I, son, so have I.

And I know more than you ever will.

I am still in control.

No, you aren’t.

Not of me.

Not anymore.

We shall see.

I shook my head as the voice filled me, as if the motion would be enough to clear the insanity. It wasn’t. His voice only grew, the laugh echoing in my ears before it faded to nothing, the sound moving back into the dark recesses of my mind.

I looked away from Dramin, hoping he hadn’t seen my lapse, only to face my brother once again, the thick cords of his hair spreading around his head like some crude crown. It would have been comical if it wasn’t for the situation.

“What happened?” I had meant to ask so much more, but it was all that could find its way out. Thankfully, Dramin seemed to understand me without question.

“Well, that boy there”—he lifted his mug to the boy on the other side of me as if I couldn’t tell who he was speaking of, but I couldn’t look away from my brother—“got bit by the nasty things, as did I.”

“And Thom?”

“Well, that is a mystery.” Dramin sighed dejectedly, his mug falling into his lap with a splash of the amber brown liquid. “No one is quite sure what happened to him.”

I know what happened to him.

The voice was a dark chuckle, a dim sound. However, for the first time since I had woken, for the first time since I had become stronger than the voices, I shivered.

This time, it was in fear.

I pushed it away. I was unwilling to admit the emotion had found me again, that my father could truly know anything of what was going on.

Looking to Dramin in question, I tried to prop myself up to sitting, my body aching with each movement until I finally managed it. The heavy blanket fell away from my torso, letting the cold fall air of the massive space move against my skin.

“Ilyan brought everyone here to figure out our next move.” There he went again, answering questions I hadn’t been able to put voice to.