This Savage Song (Monsters of Verity #1)(45)

She’d never really understood the phrase.

Now she did.

The only thing she didn’t get were the marks. Leo had them, too, short bands of crosses circling his wrists.

One for every day without a slip, that’s what Freddie had said. Which obviously wasn’t the whole truth, but it couldn’t be a lie, either. Monsters didn’t lie.

“Our Kate, always a dreamer.”

She jumped, and saw Sloan standing in the doorway, a wicked smile smeared across his sickly face. She didn’t know how long he’d been standing there—or how long she’d been sitting, for that matter, staring at the frozen image of Leo amid the wreckage and thinking about Freddie. She tapped out of the updrive, and set the tablet aside.

“What is it?” she asked.

He drew a pointed nail absently down the wooden door frame, eliciting a screech. Kate resisted the urge to touch the nick he’d made on her cheek. “Your father won’t be home tonight.”

Her grip tightened on the chair. “Oh?” The thought of being left alone with the Malchai gave her chills, but she knew better than to let it show. If Sloan knew how uncomfortable he made her, he would only torment her more. “Nothing too serious, I assume?”

“Nothing he can’t handle,” said Sloan.

She watched him go, hesitated, then grabbed her phone and surged after him.

“Hey,” she called, following the Malchai out into the penthouse. But he wasn’t there. “Sloan?” Nothing. Then a cold breath against her neck.

“Yes, Kate?” said a voice near her bad ear. She didn’t jump, but turned, stepping carefully back out of his reach. She focused on the branded H instead of his red eyes, reminding herself that he belonged to her father. To her.

“I want to ask you something.”

Sloan’s dead lips pursed in distaste. “I would rather you didn’t,” he said evenly.

“What do you know about Sunai?”

The Malchai stilled. A shadow flickered across the planes of his face before they went smooth again. He tilted his head, considering her. But he couldn’t lie. “They are as different from us,” he said, “as we are from the Corsai.” His nose crinkled when he spoke of the shadow beasts. “They can appear human, but it is not their true form.”

Kate frowned. There had been no files, no footage of the monsters in another shape. What did a Sunai look like, behind its skin?

“Is it true they feed on souls?”

“They feed on life force.”

“How do you kill one?”

“You don’t,” said Sloan simply. “The Sunai appear to be indestructible.”

“There’s no such thing as indestructible,” said Kate. “Everything has a weakness.”

“I suppose,” he acquiesced, “but if they have a weakness, it does not show.”

“Is that why the other monsters fear them?”

“It is not a matter of fear,” snarled Sloan. “We avoid them because we cannot feed on them. Just as they cannot feed on us.”

“But you can be killed.” His red eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, so she went on. “How many are there?”

The Malchai sighed, clearly tiring of the interrogation. “As far as we know, there are three.”

Only child?

Youngest.

“The first, Leo, is known to all,” said Sloan. “He fancies himself judge, jury, and executioner.”

“Have you met him?” asked Kate.

Sloan’s expression darkened. “Our paths have crossed.” He unbuttoned his collar, pulled the shirt aside to reveal sickly blue-white skin raked with scars, as if someone had try to claw their way through the bone shield of his chest.

“Looks like he won,” said Kate.

“Perhaps.” A rictus grin spread across Sloan’s face as he touched a single, sharp nail to the place above his eye. “But I left my mark.”

She had seen a recent photo of Leo, seen the narrow scar that cut through his left brow like a piece chipped from a statue, the only blemish on a flawless face.

“And the other two?”

“The second Sunai made the Barren.” Kate’s eyes widened. She’d seen the dead space at the center of the city, heard about the catastrophe, the hundreds of lives lost, but she’d assumed it was the result of a force, a massive weapon, not of a single monster. “She is bound to her tower by the truce.

“The third,” continued Sloan, “is a mystery.”

Not to me, thought Kate, clutching the phone.

She could see the truce was failing, knew it was only a matter of time before it broke. The monsters were restless, and her father’s attention was drifting again to the Seam. The Sunai had always been Flynn’s best weapon. If they could be hunted down, if they could be killed, even captured, South City wouldn’t stand a chance.

Sloan was still watching her. “You are very curious tonight, little Katherine.”

She met his gaze. “The more you know,” she said casually, grabbing a drink before retreating to her room. Once inside, she locked the door, and considered the phone.

She could give her father this, the identity of the third Sunai . . . or she could give him something better. She could give him Freddie Gallagher.

Show him that she was a Harker to the core.