Page 34 of A Vow of Shadows
“What happened to them all?”
Though her gaze remained fixed on the pot of water, I had a sense that she was more focused on my words than the state of her bath.
“I killed them.”
Her head whipped to me, mouth parted, eyes searching mine for the retraction I could not give.
“You killed hundreds of people?” she whispered.
And there it was, the fear that lurked beneath the surface of our encounters. The proof that I was the monster I claimed to be.
The truth tumbled from my lips unbidden. “It was not by my hand, but rather a result of my actions that they died.”
A line formed between her brows. “I don’t understand.”
“No. I suppose you wouldn’t.”
I sprang to my feet, effectively cutting off the conversation. The water was nearly boiling as I pulled the pot from the fire. Again, my shadows poured it into the tub.
This time, when she made to rise, I held out a hand to stop her and took up the pump myself. Her gaze branded my back as I worked the lever up and down.
I yearned to see inside her mind. She’d taken up permanent residence in my own.
With every pump another question sprang to mind. Up, down.What was she thinking?Up, down.Did she finally see the monster with whom she’d bargained?Up, down.Was this the final straw?Up, down.Would she leave?
These questions compounded in my mind, forming a wall I couldn’t breach. It joined the many others I’d built up over years. I was a veritable fortress. Solid and impenetrable. Cold and unfeeling.
I pumped and pumped until a pair of delicate hands, one pale and one shadowed, froze me in place. Her touch was feather light, but it struck me like lightning, igniting every nerve.
Neither fear nor loathing contorted her face. The inner corner of her brows tipped up and her mouth was a hard line, but she didn’t balk at the contact with my fevered skin. Warm brown eyes met mine and held, unwavering, until they flicked to the floor and back again.
I glanced down and noted the puddle beneath our feet.
“This would be so much easier if you had power over heat instead of darkness.” She chuckled, but the attempt at humor was lost on me as I fought for composure.
Coming to my senses, I pushed the cauldron over the fire whichhissedits discontent as water splashed onto it.
“Death has power over fire. At least, the current one does.”
“I thought Death was cold. Wait. Did you say thecurrentDeath?” Katrin asked, returning to her seat on the tub.
I leaned back against the wall and sighed as a chill skittered over my neck. Pulling more of my shadows to me, I let their cold ease the tension in my shoulders.
“People talk about the cold touch of Death, but what they feel are the Shadows of Death.” I gestured to those holding space around us. “Death is a title, a position like any other. He is King of the Afterworld. The current king—Behryn—has fire magic.”
Her face contorted as this information warred with what she’d already thought about him.
“It’s not as pleasant as it sounds, I assure you.” I shifted at the memory of those flames upon my skin.
“So, this King… Behryn? It is his mark I bear?” Her darkened fingers traced over the matching skin of her face.
“It would appear so.” I had no evidence to the contrary, but neither was I convinced of this fact.
“Why shadows? Why not burning embers or fever?”
I shrugged. I truly hadn’t given much thought to her marks. “Perhaps because fevers are not as visible and burning embers would cause permanent damage. Death has a flair for thedramatic. I’m sure he thought to mark you with darkness until it claimed you completely.”
We lapsed into silence again, the crackling logs the only sound between us. The shadows rushed forward to empty the cauldron. With the bath now two-thirds full, it was past time for me to leave.