“If you hurt me, Casimir will come looking for you,” I warned, forcing my voice to sound commanding. Zhara’s gaze was icily penetrating, but I continued, “I… belong to the Darkseer, and attacking me will only incur his wrath.”
“I don’t believe you,” she hissed.
“See for yourself!” I cried, and in my desperation, I yanked up my dress to expose the tattoo on my thigh, just visible in the slanted light from the foyer. Casimir. “He will kill you if you harm me.”
Zhara bared her teeth in a feral growl. Suddenly the edge of a blade was pressed against my throat. I gasped at the feel of the cold metal against my skin.
She crooned, “He may very well try, but I do not fear the Darkseer, girl.”
Shit.
“Okay,” I said, thinking wildly. “What about theBook of Erebos?”
She froze, the pressure of the blade slackening slightly as her eyes widened.
I hurried on. “If you have any hope of getting answers from theBook of Erebos, you will leave me unharmed.” I panted against her. “I’m the only one the Vrag Kigna will speak to.”
“Liar,” she crooned, glaring into my face, teeth bared. The glint of her sharp canines was visible in the dim light. “Why should I care about the Book?” she hissed.
“Because,” I croaked against the pressure of the blade against my vocal cords, “you need the Book to—” But I didn’t know what they needed theBook of Erebosfor. So I guessed: “—To complete your blood ritual.”
Her pout creased a line in her blood-red lipstick. “You know what I think, girl?”
Her lips were so close I could feel her hot breath on my skin as she hissed in my ear.
“I think that a party is no fun without a little bloodshed.”
I winced as the blade pressed tighter against my jugular. I could feel beads of blood trickle wetly down my throat and onto my dress from the pressure of the blade on my skin. My breaths came in short rasps. I knew I had to take control of the situation before she slit my throat. Zhara’s nails dug into my right wrist like talons, and my own dagger, strapped to my thigh, was out of reach.
Sweat joined the blood trickling down my neck as Zhara rasped, “I think you’re a bold little liar who never learned to hold her tongue. And I think it’s past time someone cut it out.”
Panic gripped me like a vice, and I couldn’t stop the flow of tears from streaming down my cheeks. She was going to cut out my tongue. She was going to maim me, leave me choking on my own blood like an animal?—
She growled in frustration, lowering her blade. “But just in case you’re right about the Darkseer’s wrath…” she said. “I won’t kill you.”
I gasped in relief at the absence of the blade. She was going to let me go.
“However, perhaps it’s safest to leave no trace of my hand in this.”
She conjured a goblet of blood-red wine from thin air and grasped a fistful of hair in one hand, yanking my head back and forcing the cup to my lips with the other.
My scream became a drowning gurgle as she poured the contents of the goblet down my throat. I choked, clawing at the hand that grasped my hair hard enough to make my eyes water, but she held fast, keeping my mouth hinged open.
With enough force to fracture bone, Zhara swung her fist into my jaw with blunt force. I fell to the floor, spluttering and coughing even as I scrambled backward, my palms slipping on the spilled wine.
Zhara loomed over me, the triumph in her expression all too clear.
The damage was done. I’d swallowed enough to be poisoned.
19
Find Casimir. Find Casimir.
That was the only thought that clanged through my mind as I staggered down the staircase and into the sweltering foyer, weaving among throngs of dancers as my vision went blurry at the edges.
Already, I could feel the wine working its slow poison into my bloodstream; the heat and unsteadiness dragging me under. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling, and I wanted more than anything to let go.
Bryce stared at me as I stumbled past her, but I hardly noticed as the room exploded into a kaleidoscope of color.