Silver-Tongued Devil (21 page)

I scratched my forehead, trying to keep my temper under control. “Let’s back up. Why exactly have you suddenly decided to feed from the help?”

Maisie grabbed a towel from the edge of the bed and took her time wiping the blood from her mouth and hands before answering. “I told you before. The lack of sleep is making my hunger grow. I tried to satisfy it with the bagged blood, but it wasn’t enough. And now thanks to you I barely got more than a mouthful.”

“Jesus, Maisie,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling this bad?” I waved my hand through the air to indicate the scene I’d walked in on. “If Orpheus found out you’re feeding from mages, he’d go ape shit.”

She rounded on me. “Orpheus won’t find out. You heard her. She didn’t remember the previous feeding. I covered my tracks. As long as you keep your mouth shut, no one has to know.”

For a split second, the air shimmered around her, allowing me to see through the glamour she’d used to hide her true appearance. Her eyes were sunken and ringed with dark shadows. Her skin was sallow and her cheeks sunken in. Despite the blood she’d been consuming, the physical toll of no sleep and, frankly, her personal demons were too much for the blood to repair. So she’d resorted to using a glamour spell to convince everyone she was healthy.

I didn’t mention the spell. In the grand scheme of things it was such a little detail compared to Maisie attacking an innocent and her continued mental decline. But seeing it made me change tactics. Yelling would only make her dig in her heels more. So I sucked in a deep breath and lassoed my anger. When I spoke again, my tone was even, reasonable.

“What exactly is your goal here?” I asked, and crossed my arms.

She frowned. “What do you mean?” Her free hand came up to tug the lock of hair beneath her ear.

“Let’s say I agree to help hide your activities so you can heal the damage you’re doing to your body. How long do you think you can keep it up? And for that matter, what are you going to do when the treaty signing gets here and you don’t have a prophecy?”

She shrugged. “I’ll just make one up. Orpheus has such a hard-on for a positive prophecy, he’ll buy any vaguely optimistic symbolism I throw out.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re unbelievable!” My voice lowered into a deadly serious volume. “This ends tonight. Do you hear me? No more not sleeping, no more feeding from anyone. You’re sick and you need help. I’m not going to stand by and let you destroy yourself anymore.”

Silence crashed over the room. Maisie had gone totally still, her eyes blazing with anger. When she finally spoke again, her voice was low and mean. “And you’re more of a hypocrite than I thought. How dare you judge me? You of all beings, who used to kill for a living. You who has fed from the necks of countless victims. How many lies have you told, Sabina? How many times have you justified hurting others because it served your own selfish needs?” Her face was red and her hands shook with rage. “You said you want to help me. But what you really meant is to manipulate me into doing what you want. Because that’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? Orpheus and Rhea told you to talk me into doing the dream incubation.”

Her words hit me like acid-tipped arrows. When I spoke, my voice shook with guilt and anger. “The reason I am saying no to you is not because I am selfish. It is because I have experienced the consequences of the life you just described. And more than anything, I don’t want that kind of life for you. I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, but I will not be helping you keep up this charade.”

“Then I guess we have nothing more to say to each other.” Her chin came up. “Leave now.”

My mouth worked open and closed as I scrambled to figure out how to salvage the conversation and convince her to do the right thing. “Maisie—”

Her hand slashed through the air. “Good-bye, Sabina.”

I went still, trying to give her the chance to change her mind, but she didn’t. Deflated, I turned to go. But then I stopped and turned. “You know, you’re not going to get better until you face what happened and deal with it.”

“Is that what you think? That I’m not trying to get better?”

I crossed my arms. “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing. But I do know your recent choices aren’t doing anything for your sanity.”

She huffed out a humorless laugh and shook her head. “Think what you want. You always do anyway.”

With that, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the apartment. Obviously, I could no longer lie for Maisie. It was one thing for her to decide to stop sleeping for a while. It was something else altogether for her to think vein raping people and lying about prophecies were good life choices.

As much as it pained me, it looked like it was time to come clean to Rhea about what Maisie was up to. I just hoped that by the time we figured out how to help Maisie, she’d eventually forgive me for betraying her. Again.

20

W
hen I found Rhea in her workshop, she was bent over a marble pestle on the worktable grinding seeds into a powder. Judging from the strong scent of licorice filling the air, I identified the mystery substance as dried anise pods.

I paused, realizing that six months ago I’d not even known what anise looked like, much less been able to identify it by scent alone. But under Rhea’s tutelage, I knew all sorts of random tricks and uses for herbs and plants. Like how wrapping a small bit of skunk cabbage in a bay leaf on Sunday promotes good luck. And that coriander can be added to wine to make an effective lust potion.

But more than that, Rhea had helped me tap into a side of myself I never knew existed when I lived in Los Angeles. A deeper side that didn’t rely on fists and threats to solve problems. It was a softer, more introspective part of me that understood words can be more powerful than bullets. The realization told me I was making the right decision in coming to her.

So why did the words feel like thorns in my throat?

She looked up with a smile, but the minute she saw the look on my face, she frowned and set down her tools. “Sabina? Everything okay?”

I took a deep breath and walked farther into the room. I’d been in this place for lessons more times than I could count. When Rhea wasn’t putting me through my paces in casting spells, she was lecturing me on all sorts of magical therapies here and overseeing my attempts at making my own potions. But that classroom was about to become a confessional.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.” She slowly set down the mortar. “Does this have something to do with Adam?”

I waved my hand, dismissing her worried expression. “No, nothing like that. It’s—” I blew out a deep breath. Now or never. “It’s about Maisie.”

Rhea came around the table, her interest immediately piqued. “Did she have another episode?”

“You could say that,” I said. “I—I wasn’t completely honest with you when I told you the talk with Maisie the other day had gone well.”

Rhea sat down on one of the stools, as if she knew the news I was about to share wasn’t the kind one should hear standing. She didn’t say anything, obviously sensing that I needed to just get this out.

“She told me something that night that she made me promise not to share with you or Orpheus. But I realized I can’t keep that promise anymore.”

Rhea reached out and placed a papery palm over my hand. “Sabina, breaking confidences is a serious thing. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“The last thing I want to do is betray Maisie. But this is pretty serious and I think that not telling you would have worse consequences.”

“I see,” she said. “I’m listening.” She gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Maisie has been telling us she hasn’t had any dreams, but she was lying.”

Rhea pulled away slightly, as if it had been me telling lies instead of my sister. “You’re certain?”

I nodded. “She’s been having bad dreams.”

“Nightmares?”

“She was fairly vague with the details but she seemed pretty upset. That’s not the most troubling part, though. She told me the dreams were so horrible that she’s stopped sleeping altogether.”

Rhea gasped. “What? How?”

“Apparently, she’s been setting an alarm to keep her from entering REM.”

Rhea pulled her hand away. “Oh, my gods. But she’s looked so healthy lately.”

“She’s been using a glamour to hide the effects.” I wiped my hands on my jeans. I briefly considered telling Rhea about Maisie’s new feeding habits, but I knew that would condemn Maisie totally. If Orpheus and Rhea found out what she’d done, they’d shun her—or worse. No, I needed to focus on making sure the incubation happened so Maisie could have a chance to redeem herself. “I don’t know what to do. If she’s not sleeping, there’s no way she’ll be able to deliver a prophecy at the treaty signing.”

“Did she tell if the dreams she had were precognitions?”

I frowned and shook my head. “No. She thought they were more like flashbacks from New Orleans, but I’m not certain she’d tell me if they really were visions.”

Rhea went quiet as she pondered everything. I fidgeted with an anise pod and tried to ignore the acidic guilt churning in my stomach. This was the right thing to do. And Rhea was the right person to go to. If anyone could help Maisie, it was her.

“So the way I see it, we have two issues,” Rhea said finally. “First, we need to figure out how to convince Maisie to sleep again. Then we have to help her connect with the part of her subconscious that produces the prophecies.”

“Can the dream incubation do that?”

“Just a sec.” She pursed her lips and rose from her stool. Turning her back on me, she went to a tall bookcase along the wall. She ran her fingers over the spines of several books before pulling a small green one from the shelf. She opened it and flipped through a few pages.

While she read, I rose and went to the windows overlooking the terrace. Rhea’s workroom was on the side of the building facing the park. It was fully dark by now and the city’s lights dotted the skyline like a swarm of fireflies. Across town, Giguhl was hosting a practice for his Roller Derby team. And farther north, Adam was at the Crossroads meeting with the Pythian Knights to go over security for the Imbolc festival. And I was there, betraying my sister.

The fact that Maisie had been such an evil bitch earlier didn’t matter. I didn’t condone her behavior, of course, but some sick part of me understood. Rhea and Orpheus would never be able to forgive Maisie for feeding from a mage. But they’d never experienced bloodlust. They didn’t know how it made your skin burn and your fangs throb and your mind empty of everything but the need to hunt and consume and kill.

But I’d been there. And I knew that Maisie’s state was as much my fault as her own. If I hadn’t hidden her secrets, if I hadn’t convinced myself that doing nothing was easier than doing what was right, the scene I witnessed earlier never would have happened. So even though it pained me to go behind my sister’s back, I knew that tough love was the only thing that would save my sister from herself.

Behind me, Rhea made a speculative sound. I turned to see her holding up the book. “This describes the ritual.”

A picture on the page showed the Temple at Epidaurus around 450
B.C.
, which the caption described as the largest of the temples dedicated to the god Asclepius. Looking up from the book, I asked, “Who is Asclepius?”

“He’s the god of medicine and healing. The incubation is a ritual to invite the god into an ill person’s dreams so he can help heal the ailments.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not in and of itself, no.” She shook her head. “But if Maisie’s so desperate to stop the dreams that she’s given up sleep, we’re not going to be able to cajole her into it.” Rhea’s face scrunched up like the words she was about to say tasted bitter. “We would have to slip her a sleeping potion.”

My mouth fell open. “You mean drug her?”

“That’s one way to put it. I’d prefer to think of it as hiding something that’s good for her in her food.”

I shot her a disbelieving look. “Rhea, that’s so wrong.”

“What other option do we have? Sit by and watch her waste away? Wait around until Orpheus gets so fed up he has her deposed?”

“Can he do that?”

“Sabina, mages take the Oracle’s prophecies very seriously. He can and would depose her if he felt her lack of prophecy posed a threat to the race.”

“Shit.” I dropped heavily onto the stool. How had this gotten so complicated?

“She won’t ever have to know. In fact… hmm.” Her eyes went all squinty and her lips pressed together like she was hatching a plan. “Here’s an idea. We’ll suggest that she try moving out to the Crossroads until the Imbolc festival. Tell her that maybe a change of scenery and some quiet might help her. We’d need the ley line in the Sacred Grove for the dream incubation anyway.” Rhea started pacing, warming up to her idea as she moved. “We can slip the potion in her food. She’ll sleep through the ritual, so she won’t know we were involved. Hopefully, she’ll wake up with a prophecy and won’t suspect we had a hand in it.”

“What if she refuses to go?”

Rhea stopped pacing and looked up. “Then we’ll have Orpheus make it an order. But hopefully we can convince her without it coming to that.”

I shifted on my seat, not liking this plan at all. We both knew Maisie would refuse. Drugging her was the only option if we wanted to make it happen. But I hated to do it after everything she’d already been put through.

Rhea noticed my discomfort and approached, softening her tone. “Sabina, I know you don’t want to hurt Maisie. Please believe I don’t either. But this is serious. The Council has always relied on the Oracle for guidance. They’ve been sympathetic to Maisie’s issues, but the time’s coming when they’ll grow tired of waiting. Maisie’s pedigree offers her certain protections but that goes only so far. I don’t want to contemplate what will happen to her if she’s stripped of her position.”

I didn’t either. She was already so fragile that something like that would totally leave her shattered. I sighed and brushed flecks of dried herbs off my palms. “Fine. But this is between you and me. You can’t tell Orpheus what I’ve told you.”