I’m not sure I like this swaggering version of Zefyra as much as I liked the kinder, gentler girl from the Chained Sisters. Then again, that was when she was a human. After her lover’s gruesome death, and getting turned into a vampire by Taskmistress Cordea, I can’t blame her for becoming this darker, grittier version of herself. I imagine, after Ethera, she had nothing to live for in her mind. So vampirism was the logical next step.
I suppose the same transformation can be said of me,I muse, watching Zefyra’s throat bob as she finishes her first mug and gets brought another.Not the vampire-turning part, but the personality shift. The way I treated Aelin; the numerous people I’ve killed in my quest for a better world. I’ve certainly become darker and more ruthless in my time with Skar, Vall, and Garro.
As it stands, I have no idea if I’ll be seen on the right side of history once this is all done. Or if I’ll just be another monster in annals full of them.
“So, Zef,” I say once she begins to sip her second mug and most of the interfolk listeners have wandered off to their respective tables. “You say you’ve networked. That you can getus a meeting with Overliege Liolen Sesk.Andthat you can help us find the Chained Sisters.”
“One is easier than the other, Sister,” she replies. “One, I merely point on a map. The other might take some . . . diplomacy.”
Yes. Liolen Sesk, though interfolk, is still one of the remaining Ministers. A monstrously powerful one judging by their leadership of the Commerce Ward where we now sit hidden in this abandoned tavern. It also means they’re ruthless, to have risen to the rank they’ve risen to.
I click my tongue and fold my hands together on the tabletop. “We’re not big for dallying. After everything that’s happened so far, we’re in a bit of a rush.”
She chuckles and sets her ale down. “I imagine so. Tell me what you need.”
I glance at my men—Vall and Lukain to the left of me, Skar and Garro to the right. Zefyra sits across from me, and Palacia sticks close to her shoulder, as if curious about the pretty, scarred vampiress.
“It sounds like we need to split up,” I say. “Get two things done at once.”
The resistance is immediate. Vallan lets out a grunt, Skar scoffs, and Garroway shakes his head furiously, saying, “No, no, this is a strategic nightmare, little honey badger.”
I blink and stare at Lukain. The only one who hasn’t responded. “Master?”
He frowns at me. His lean face is starting to darken with days-old stubble. “Whatever you decide, little grimmer, is the course of action I’ll take.”
His words dull my other mates’ opposition to the idea. By the looks on their faces, averting their gazes, they seem perturbed and guilty the newest member of our group is the one standing by me the hardest.
I suspected Lukain’s response to be something like that, of course. After the night we had, how could he answer any other way?Small games to get what I want in the grand scheme.I hide my gloating smirk behind my hand, tapping my chin as if I’m deep in thought.
Skartovius says, “Fine, the dhampir is right. I go with you, however.”
I shake my head. “No, love. Both groups need a leader. You need to be one of them.”
My aim is to speak to his self-importance to get what I need and, of course, to dig the knife in a little deeper, so he knows I’m still unhappy with him and there are no easy ways to get out of the shit-house he’s found himself in.
I point at Skar and twiddle my finger down the line of mates. My finger stops at Lukain, passes him to Vallan . . . and then returns to Lukain. “Skartovius, you will go with your brother.”
Playing dumb, Lukain says, “Which one?”
“Hisactualbrother. You, of course.”
Lukain frowns.
Skartovius stiffens in his seat. His gold-flecked eyes burrow under my skin, his gaze intense and filled with wrath. “That’s untenable, little temptress.”
“Why?”
“Because the fucker hates me.”
Pindrop silence—
And then loud voices of hostility from Garroway and Lukain and even Vallan, all sounding their disapproval of Skar’s complaint. They join the raucous conversation the interfolk are having around us.
As my bratty gloating at the upheaval I’ve caused reaches new heights, I recall Helget’s parting words.“Get your men in line, Sephania.”
My haughty smirk dies a quiet death. Frowning, I sigh and reach for a mug of ale that’s empty, sadly.I suppose getting them riled up is going against that notion.
My fist rattles the table and everyone stops talking to glance at me. “Lukain and Skartovius will meet Overliege Liolen with Zefyra,” I say with finality. “You’re a vampire lord and a nobleblood, Skar. The overliege will speak with you easier than they would me.”