Order of scorpions, p.22
Order of Scorpions, page 22
I study him, trying to interpret the intensity I see in his gaze. The light skims across him in a way that encourages his tan skin to glow. He looks ethereal in this moment, and if I didn’t know better, I could be convinced that salvation might be found in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful, Auset,” he starts, brushing the back of his hand over my cheek.
“Did one of the guards let you puff from their pix weed again?” I question, ensuring my tone comes across playful, but everything about this is putting me on edge.
Leto and I don’t do this. There’s no softness or poetry in how we are with each other. He’s behaving as though I’m some dimwitted female in need of admiration and approval. But I’ve never needed or wanted flowery words and bullshit promises.
Sweat starts to collect at the small of my back, and it has nothing to do with the sun’s imminent rise or the way it will heat the desert’s sands to unpleasant and punishing degrees. I study the male who helped me find myself when I thought I was lost and beyond saving. I take in his straight nose and sharp jaw and the lips that aided me in taking back control and finding power in what happens between a male and a female when they both want it to. I chased gratification against his hard body and found an escape that helped me survive this place.
Now, as Leto looks down at me, the hint of nerves alight in his brow as he puts on an act that he should know I’ve never needed, I start to suspect that I’m about to find betrayal in his arms too.
“What did Tilleo offer you?” I ask, all hesitancy and pretense gone between us.
I step back and casually drop my hand to my side so I can reach for the dagger at my back. His amber gaze tracks my movement, and I pause not wanting to give myself away just yet.
He sighs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Why would he offer me anything when he can simply order this?” he counters, the heat that was simmering in his words gone as though it was never there.
He has a point, but something in his face tells me this is a choice and not a command.
“You’re about to be bid on later today,” I remind him. “Tilleo knows sending anyone after me is a risk. He would have sweetened the deal; we both know it.”
If Tilleo ordered this, if he was going to force someone’s hand, he’d choose the blade slave most likely to succeed. According to the ranks that would be Harsh, not Leto. Harsh recently learned that I’m more formidable than he thought. Leto, on the other hand, doesn’t know that…yet. I know him and he only takes risks when there’s something in it for him.
Carefully, I inch my hand closer to my dagger, trying hard not to draw any attention to the slight movement.
“I think I deserve to know what he offered you to kill me,” I press, needing just another beat before my weapon is in reach.
Leto pulls his hand from his neck, and my heart drops. I realize too late that he wasn’t rubbing the back of his neck out of nerves. He had a chakram hidden behind his back.
The perfectly circular blade slashes down at me, and I don’t have enough time to grab for my dagger. My arm goes up to try to keep Leto from burying the chakram in my throat. The sharp blade sinks into my forearm, cutting me open to the bone. However, it’s the sudden punch of another razor sharp chakram deep in my gut that makes me gasp in shock.
He had two.
Two deadly weapons somehow hidden behind his back, and now they’re both mortally embedded in me.
“Any Order I want,” he grunts in answer as he tries to pull the bladed circle from my stomach.
I snatch his hand and use all my strength to hold the chakram there, knowing if he pulls it out, it will eviscerate me. The times we fought in the ring or trained against each other, I always let Leto think he was stronger than me. Surprise flashes in his determined gaze when he realizes that he’s not. Immediately he stops struggling to pull the chakram from my stomach and targets the blade still in my arm to finish this once and for all.
Before he can, I yank him closer, trying not to think about the damage the chakram is doing to my gut as my movements force it even deeper. I let my fangs drop as Leto stumbles into me. I revel in the terror that washes over his face as we show one another the true monsters that have been lurking within all this time.
I rip into Leto’s throat, and the scream that tries to rush out of him morphs into a wet gurgle. Leto has none of the thick corded muscle that Gartox had to protect his neck, and all too quickly, I feel his throat start to collapse under my bite. Hot blood pours out of him, spilling down my throat and drenching my chest. Blood sprays the roof and the walls of the abandoned guard house as my fangs puncture something vital in Leto’s neck. He immediately weakens, his jerky defensive strikes and efforts to get me off him slowing until they’re nothing more than muscle twitches.
I drink Leto down until his body sags and grows too heavy to hold. The betrayal tainting the flavor of him begins to taste of death, and with one more deep gulp, I peel his fingers from the round blade in my stomach and then shove Leto’s body away from me. He hits a wall and crumples to the ground, death spasms already draining the last of his life as the remainder of his blood starts to puddle beneath him. Pain ripples through me, and I whimper, which makes my stomach muscles tighten, and the horrifying wounds there flare with agony. I wipe my mouth but remember too late that my other arm is injured badly and bleeding too.
With a brutal yank that feels like it saps the last of my energy, I pull the chakram from my arm. It drops with a clang to the floor of the roof. I cry out as I try to step out of the guard house. Agony rebounds through me, and I quickly realize that I’m not going to be able to get to the ladder, let alone climb down it and stumble to the healing chamber. I consider calling out for help, but all the guards are gone, and everyone else in the ludere knows better than to go searching for the source of someone’s screams or pleas. I don’t even know if the healers would help me or if Tilleo has already ordered them to let me die too.
A shuddering sob works its way up my chest, and I decide to do the one thing I probably shouldn’t do. The only thing I can think that might save me. I step back into the shadows of the guard house and beg the darkness to take me to them.
Chapter
Nineteen
BONES
I run the tip of my finger around the rim of the half empty glass in front of me, my thoughts restless and heavy and nowhere near calm enough to allow me to sleep. Skull’s soft snores fill the otherwise quiet tent, and the chair beneath me creaks as I lean back and stretch. The draft Scorpius took before bed knocked him out. I’ve noticed, since we arrived, that he’s relied on the sleep aid more here than he normally does. He won’t admit it, but I know Auset is the reason.
The crystal tumbler is cool against my lips as I take a sip of the thick golden liquid. I stare at nothing as I try—and fail miserably—to see anything other than her, sitting on the ground in that fucker’s room with her knees pulled up to her chest like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. She looked completely devastated and scared and surrounded by death.
We did that to her.
I know, at the time, we didn’t have any options. We were on a hunt and had one more target yet to deal with. Dorsin’s stronghold was warded—something my brothers and I remedied shortly after—but we couldn’t shadow walk anywhere. It wouldn’t have been safe to take her, not for Auset or for us. Or maybe I’m telling myself that to assuage the guilt currently coursing through me like a tidal wave.
The truth is that we might have gotten too good at ignoring the plight of the fae we come across as we move about the realms to hunt. It was a defense mechanism at first. Something each of us had to become adept at because it was impossible to save everyone we came across who needed it. We looked at Auset, but we didn’t want to see her. We didn’t want to find a way to help her. We’d grown too apathetic, too selfish. A certainty made worse by the fact that each of my brothers and I were rescued by someone who would never turn her back to anyone.
I never viewed any of it through the lens of dishonor, but I can’t see it any other way now. We dishonored Eacon. We dishonored ourselves. We left Auset in Dorsin’s chambers, and this is what they did to her. She couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, on the cusp of maturity, scared, and innocent. It’s only been a handful of years since the night that we abandoned her, but the change is undeniable. I remember her fear, the plea in her eyes as she looked up at us from her chains. All of that is gone now. She’s hardened now, brutal, enraged. We threw her to the wolves, and the battle being waged inside of her because of it is condemning. One moment she looks capable of burning the world to the ground to get where she wants to go, but in the next blink, she’s hollow, lost, like she’s ready for it all to be over. I can’t stop seeing that war in her eyes, and I hate that I don’t know which side of her will win.
Liquid burns down my throat, the stinging pain almost a kiss of penance as Auset’s words swirl around in my mind. She talked about being beaten and starved and sold off to monsters as though it was an everyday occurrence. The reality that it was for her is driving me mad. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop hating myself for what they did to her. I can’t stop loathing that it’s our fault.
It can be easy to feel privileged and important as a Scorpion, given what we do and what we’ve worked to build. My brothers and I have more than earned the awe and the genuflection, but I feel lower than sarkar shit right now. I know the world we live in is a cruel one. The three of us alone are proof of all the ways the realms can wrong us, but we’ve tried to create some semblance of balance through our actions. We don’t just hunt for coin. The Order of Scorpions takes pride in destroying the depraved and deserving. The realms should be rid of the monsters that plague them. My brothers and I are all too happy to cut them down, but it’s not enough. I understand that now in a way I haven’t before.
I’ve never cared about what went down in this ludere until now. Our connection to this place was about results, about placing integral pieces that we controlled on the board the realms are playing on, but we fucked up. It took a pair of silver eyes, a smart mouth, and an unhealthy lack of fear for us to see it. The Order of Scorpions hasn’t been paying enough attention, and that’s a serious fucking problem. Now, all the ways we mucked shit up are screaming in our face, and I don’t even know where to begin to fix any of it.
I tilt the rest of the contents in my cup down my throat and try not to choke on the liquid fire that spills from my mouth down into my stomach. I should feel relieved that Scorpius told Tilleo that we’re claiming Auset later in today’s Bidding. It should ease some of my worry, that my brother made it clear to the master that he’s not to bring any more batches of slaves into the ludere until we tell him otherwise, until we can fix everything that’s fucked up. But it’s done nothing to alleviate the tension and shame still churning in my gut. It’s not enough. I don’t know if anything we ever do will be to her, or the others here that deserved better.
A weary sigh escapes me, and I run a tired hand over my head, the rough feel of my short hair against my palm grounding. Out of nowhere, the atmosphere in the tent suddenly changes. I freeze. Every muscle in my body is suddenly on high alert as I discreetly scan my surroundings in search of what’s triggering my internal alarms.
“Bones,” her frail voice pleads, the sound barely more than a pained whisper. Auset staggers out of a shadow, and my heart plummets as I take her in.
Like she used up all of her strength just getting here, she starts to pitch forward, and I rush to catch her. She’s covered in blood. The muscle and skin of one of her arms flaps precariously away from the bone it should be attached too. But it’s the chakram she’s pressing into her stomach, and what I know it means, that sends terror hammering away at me. Scorpius and Skull both rush out of their beds as I catch our little moonbeam before she can hit the ground and do even more damage to herself.
I hate the groan of pain that leaks out of her bloodied lips, but there’s no safe place to touch or good way to carry her that isn’t going to hurt. There’s too much damage.
Why is there so much damage?
“Who the fuck did this?” Skull snarls as he rushes to her side while I carry her to the black maple table and set her gently down on top of it.
She looks half dead already, and my heart races with panic as it tries to settle heavily back into my chest. Sticky blood coats her mouth and lips as though she’s been coughing it up. Streaks and splatters of crimson are drying in the light strands of her long, wild hair. The rich tan of her skin is sickly and sallow, making the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks darken and stand out. Her tunic and pants are soaked with scarlet, and I start to question if she has any blood left in her small body.
“Skull, go get a healer,” Scorpius barks from Auset’s other side as he positions the linens from his bed around the chakram and then pushes down on the split in her abdomen.
He hurries to pack the wound and apply more pressure, as Skull soundlessly steps into a shadow and disappears. I rip my tunic off and hurry to wrap her shredded arm, ignoring the flashes of bone the deep gash reveals as I do. She writhes and whimpers against what Scorpius and I are doing to her, but there’s no avoiding it. I apply as much pressure as I can and hold her arm up to try to help with the bleeding.
“I thought you said Tilleo knew he wasn’t allowed to fuck with her anymore?” I snap at Scorpius as another pained keen from Auset sets every nerve in my body on edge.
I need to stab something. Tear into someone. Scream until my voice is gone and the rage has dulled to a low roar in my chest, but I can’t. All I can do is watch helplessly and hope with everything that she doesn’t die before Skull gets back.
“He’s fucking dead,” Scorpius snarls in answer, and he repositions his hands to keep the chakram from digging any deeper while also making sure that Auset’s intestines don’t spill out.
“Mine,” Auset gasps out. “Tilleo is mine,” she croaks more harshly, but first we need to save her, then I can go about giving her whatever it is that she wants in this world.
I drop my fangs and press my mouth to my inner wrist. Quickly, I pierce my flesh with the sharper canines, the pinch of pain a small payment for the healing I’m calling on. Blood fills my mouth, and I pull my fangs out and position my arm above her stomach. Carefully I direct the steady flow of blood to spill from me onto the circular chakram blade, and then watch as it drips down into her wounds. My blood won’t be enough to heal her completely, especially not when the damn weapon is still in her, but it can start to repair what it can, which could make some difference before the healer comes.
Skull strides out of the shadows with a lanky elderly healer in his grip. The balding fae is being carried into the room by his nape, as though the fucker was unwilling to come, or maybe Skull didn’t waste time on the invite and just grabbed him. His robes dangle around his feet, the dirty fabric swaying jerkily from Skull’s rough treatment as he shoves the healer at the table where Auset is lying.
“Fix her,” he barks, his tone filled with promises of death and agony if the healer doesn’t do exactly as commanded.
“Tilleo ordered us not to,” the healer squeaks out, and if the situation weren’t more dire, I might be impressed with the set of balls this shit must have to talk back to a member of the Order of Scorpions.
“You either start pumping her full of healing magic right this fucking second or I won’t just kill you very slowly and very painfully, I’ll track down every member of your blood, every person you’ve ever talked to or even looked at, and I’ll do the exact same thing to them,” Scorpius seethes, and all the color drains from the healer’s wrinkled face.
He looks down at Auset, his eyes softening and his hands hesitating above her as though he doesn’t know where to begin. The entire front of her tunic is soaked in scarlet, and I realize at the same time the healer does that she might have other wounds that we can’t see.
“Skull, take her arm,” I call out, and my brother is there before the command is all the way out of my mouth. “I’ll check her for wounds up here, you fix her stomach,” I tell the healer, and he nods and starts chanting as he begins to pull the bed linens Scorpius packed from the grizzly gash in her abdomen.
Scorpius holds the chakram still, and we all work in tandem as though we’re a finely tuned team. Auset’s eyes are closed, and I think she’s passed out, the blood loss and injuries all too much for her body to handle. But when I pull a dagger from my thigh and start cutting away at her tunic, silver eyes snap open, her gaze luminescent, pained, searching.
“Hey, little moonbeam,” I soothe as I cut the blood-soaked fabric from her body, careful not to jostle anything that Scorpius and the healer are working on in her stomach.
My eyes stay fixed on hers, and I wish, not for the first time, that I wasn’t wearing this fucking glamour so she could be staring into my eyes and not the black orbs that Scorpius’s power, his thura, morphs them into.
“You’re going to be okay,” I reassure her, and she nods once weakly, like she believes me.
She makes a fist with her good hand, squeezing it tight once before relaxing, and I reach out and grip her delicate palm in my larger callused grip.
“I’m going to check you for other wounds, is that okay?” I ask as I pinch a corner of her bloody tunic with my free hand.
She licks her dry, blood-caked lips and nods again. Wasting no time, I quickly peel the sticky top away from her skin and look down to search for stab wounds or more cuts. Her chest is wrapped, and I scan the crimson-stained fabric for puncture wounds or pooling blood, but I don’t see anything. Urgently, I look over her throat, trying to figure out where all of this blood is coming from, but I don’t see any seeping cuts or scratches or anything else that would account for all of it.
Auset cries out, and I jerk my head up to see that the healer and Scorpius are pulling the chakram from her stomach. I look away when a lake of blood pools in her abdomen and starts to form a river to the ground.
