Page 96 of Dhampira

I swallowed my questions. It was better to let Rasimir steer the conversation—and to say as little as possible in response.

Rasimir brought us to a halt at the base of the fountain. Mist rose from the bowl and cooled my skin. The merman’s stone eyes stared at the sky. His pursed lips sent water sparkling above his head in a graceful arc. Tattoos spread over his stone shoulders and chest. I’d seen the pattern before, right after Lorcan hauled the bleeding merman onto the riverbank for me to kill.

Water welled at the corner of one of the merman’s eyes. Slowly it tracked down his cheek and over his square jaw. His eyelid twitched.

I forgot how to breathe. By some miracle of the gods, I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t move, my attention locked on the statue’s face. Another tiny river slid down the merman’s cheek.

Not water from the fountain. A tear.

His eyelid twitched again. Because he was real—or had been. He was stone, but a thinking, flesh-and-blood being was trapped inside the statue. The horror that gripped me in the grove outside the Everless returned. Maybe the merman was like the hobflies, trapped in service they hadn’t chosen and couldn’t escape.

You have the power to change things, Lorcan’s voice said in my memory.

“I didn’t get a chance to speak to you this morning,” Rasimir said. “I was curious how you fared after last evening’s werewolf attack. Taking on new power can be an overwhelming experience.”

I concentrated on keeping my expression neutral. The fountain splashed next to us, which hopefully muffled the sound of my racing heart. “I suffered no ill effects.”

Interest flickered in his eyes. “How long did the wolf’s power stay with you?”

He didn’t know about Vander siphoning me. He couldn’t. The flowers were dead when Vander arrived and then he’d pulled me into a ward Rasimir couldn’t see. Rasimir didn’t know, and he wouldn’t learn of it.

As long as I gave nothing away.

“A few hours,” I said. “Although it’s difficult to say. I was weary after the ball, so I went to bed. When I woke, the power was gone.”

For one chilling second, Rasimir’s face was a mask of twisted, red-hot rage, his fangs bared in a jaw that descended halfway down his chest. Then I blinked, and his features were smooth and normal once more. My heart climbed into my throat, which went dry as a bone.

“Next time,” he said, “you’ll remain awake so you can monitor how dead blood affects you.”

Sweat trickled down my back. “Yes, Father.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “So obedient.” He chuckled. “You didn’t inherit that trait from Lilawen. I’m sure Lorcan will appreciate this easy compliance.”

An ache spread through my cheeks and jaw as I maintained my agreeable expression. The longer I held the position, the more unnatural it felt. Lorcan was right. I needed a mirror.

“How do you find him?” Rasimir asked. “And I’ll have the truth, Corinthe, not what you think I want to hear.”

The bead of sweat reached the small of my back. Lorcan and I hadn’t discussed how to handle our “betrothal” in public. Did Rasimir want me to be happy about it? Enamored with my intended? The ballroom flashed in my mind. Rasimir had frowned on his throne in the seconds after Lorcan kissed me.

“I barely know him,” I said. “It’s hard to have an opinion.”

Rasimir waved a careless hand. “That’s hardly unusual in royal marriages.” A thoughtful look entered his eyes. “It’s the norm in witch pairings as well. The covens arrange unions based on the parties’ gifts. Witches wed for power, not love.” He looked at the fountain, the thoughtfulness in his gaze deepening. “I’m not sure they’re capable of that particular emotion.”

He spoke of my mother. A different kind of horror crept through me. Cruel Rasimir was bad enough. I wasn’t sure I knew how to handle sentimental Rasimir.

“Then again,” he murmured, “perhaps it’s just women who fail in that regard. You think you have their love and then they leave like a thief in the night.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, every part of me bristling. He used hobflies as candles. His people hauled shipments of living supplies into the courtyard at his behest, and yet he bemoaned my mother leaving him. Maybe she hadn’t fled to keep me from falling into his clutches. Maybe she’d left because she feared he’d eventually turn on her, too. Also, he was annoying.

An awkward silence stretched. More sweat tickled my back. Rasimir appeared lost in thought, his vacant stare on the fall of the water. Lorcan had called him unstable. Somehow, that was more terrifying than plain evil. Evil was calculated. It had purpose, even when its purpose was inflicting pain and destruction.

Madness was different. Rasimir was a terrifying combination of both, his encroaching madness fueled by evil intent and a well of power. Lorcan and Vander had been unable to stop him. The Resistance of witches and werewolves hadn’t done it, either.

Which left me. I couldn’t squeak out the simplest vor. I could barely drain power, and only when I was starving or fighting for my life. Worse, most of the Noctans I’d encountered seemed to want me dead.

Rasimir turned to me. For a moment, his eyes were flat and cold. Then he smiled.

“You and Lorcan will make a fine couple. His magic is unique. The union of our two houses will lead Nocta into a prosperous new era.”