Worry pinches his brow.
Is he serious right now?
I cross my arms over my chest. “Gee, I didn’t think it was important.”
And just like that, whatever concern sat in his expression twists up into an authoritative grimace. “You’ll be thankful I thought of it at all.”
He dashes around me. Half a second is all it takes for him to be at the very end of the hallway that forks to the right. Two other figures join him.
Black hair. Curvy. Dark attire.
That’s my sister.
That’s Tessa.
My feet work before my brain can catch up. It’s odd seeing her in such a fancy place. Our usual meetups always included the orchard behind the compound or the barren fields to the right of King Marr’s mansion. Our shabby hut. Our cot-like beds. Our worn sheets.
But here she is, bright as the moon on a clear night, gorgeous. Eyes like jade pools, shimmering as she looks at me.
I throw myself at her. Tears burn as they surface, a thousand hours spent worrying myself sick in my bed—our shared bed—with Seline pacing the window, the hearth, the stony steps outside. And then, the sickening silence that Seline left when she ran off to fulfill the contract—ourcontract.
Tessa embraces me. Her fingers wind up the center of my back. They curl over my shoulders. They massage my aching muscles. I try not to flinch from the pain Darius left.
Tessa seems cooler, paler, lighter than she ever has been.
I step back, holding her at arm’s length.
Something is different about her. But what?
My gaze darts over her form. She’s the same as always—yet she’s not.
The glow of her stony eyes is far stranger, supernatural. Her skin glitters like it’s been renewed with the finest lotion. Her lips look more red than pink, not makeup, and her features are sharper, more intense.
I squeeze her shoulders. “You’ve already turned.”
“Partially turned.”
“That’s some way to greet your sister after disappearing earlier.”
Fury slices up my chest.Especially after getting our sister killed.
I release her shoulders.
I hate myself for blaming her in the slightest. We were put in a bad situation. We had to do what we had to do. And she did just that.
Now she’s practically a vampire queen.
Well, sort of. I don’t think she’s had any human blood just yet. There’s a whole process to this sort of thing.
“I can say the same of you,” she retorts playfully. She smiles, a sheen coating her lips like gloss. But it’s not gloss. It’s like she’s… “Sorry,” she says, “I’m a bit hungry.”
“Hungry.”
It’s like she read my mind.
That sends a shiver down my spine.
She nods. “I have much to tell you about our new plan.” She gestures to her right. It’s then I truly see the man who’s stolen my sister—the very king she was supposed to assassinate standing guard like a gargoyle next to her.