The Book Eaters(74)
Unfortunately, Devon didn’t have any pills for that.
* * *
Christmas morning woke her with the sound of hail crashing against the house. And a car engine, revving in the drive. She stumbled out of bed and stood at the window. Matley’s car was pulling up. He got out, arguing indistinctly into a mobile phone. And then he looked up, straight from the courtyard below, pointing at her window.
Devon took a step back, alarmed for no reason she could pinpoint. Something in his expression had carried fury, in addition to his more usual loathing. Was today the day they’d come for her son?
Cai sat up in bed and said, quite calmly, “Mummy, I’m very hungry.”
She looked at him, tearing her gaze from the window. “I know, love. But we’re out of Redemption, so you’ll have to wait a little bit. Won’t be long, Matley said there’d surely be a shipment today.”
Frustratingly, the most recent order of Redemption had been inexplicably delayed by a fortnight, and the last pill from her previous order had been used up yesterday.
“Hungry now.” Those axinite eyes gleamed dark, his skin paler than normal. The proboscis tongue unfurled slowly from his mouth, then rolled back up.
Devon swallowed. She’d never found her child revolting, not in the slightest—until that moment. A hint of what other book eaters saw in him, and her own reaction shamed her.
“Be patient,” she told him, and hoped she sounded cheery. “Anytime now, and Matley will bring you something to eat.” She’d never called the man your father, ever.
Cai stared at her with far more intensity than any three-year-old should have. His irises darkened to black, pupils and whites seeming to shrink.
Devon began to dress, tossing aside her nightshift for a long linen dress, struggling with the laces as she always did. She had just finished braiding up her hair when someone banged on the door. Probably someone bringing the much-needed Redemption delivery.
“Just a minute!” She went to let them in.
On the other side stood Matley Easterbrook, flanked by Earplug and Tallboy. All three of them carried blackjacks.
“I came to say Merry Christmas, princess.” Her husband strode in, followed closely by the two men. “Or maybe I should say good-bye, since this is your last day here.”
Cai said, pouting and sulky, “Snack? Snack now?”
“What?” She backed away from the three men, keeping her son behind her. “The knights aren’t due till the New Year—”
“There’s been a change of plan.” Matley surged toward her. “The Ravenscars are gone, kaput, finished. No more Redemption.”
“Snack,” Cai repeated, with increased grumpiness. “Mummy. Mummy, I’m hungry!” He sulked at Matley, who ignored him. “Where snack?”
“Gone?” she said, incredulous. “How the hell can an entire Family manor just disappear? What happened to them?”
Tallboy laughed. Earplug smirked.
Matley glared at them till they fell silent, then turned back to her. “Look, it doesn’t matter, right? Not women’s business, you wouldn’t understand,” he added, and she realized from the sharp, embarrassed tone that Matley himself didn’t know. “The point is, there won’t be any Redemption coming, ever again.”
“No more Redemption?” she echoed, horrified. “But—”
“Shut up and listen,” he said. “The knights are in chaos, probably disbanding. Nobody needs or wants your brat anymore, and I sure as hell can’t feed him, so it’s over. Go quietly back to Fairweather Manor, and I won’t make you watch while I put this thing down.”
Put this thing down. Her lovely, laughing, lonely boy. Like a sick dog. He wouldn’t even get to be a dragon: that last, tiny, horrific scrap of but at least he’ll be alive, and cared for and they couldn’t let her have even that.
“Stay away from him.” Fury drowned out her fear. “If you won’t take care of him, then I will, but I will not let you kill him!”
Matley hit her with the blackjack.
Devon staggered sideways. He hit her again and she knocked back against the fireplace, catching a granite corner against the side of her head. White heat shot through her skull.
The other two men walked over and all three of them formed a tight triangle, peering down at her sprawled form and bleeding head.
Devon tried to roll over. Earplug stepped on her shoulder, pinning her flat to the floor.
“Hungry, hungry, hungry!” Cai sounded on the verge of a tantrum, tiny hands curled into tiny fists.
“Stop messing about and tie her up already.” Matley bent and picked up a startled Cai by the nape of the neck. “I’ll deal with the dragon.”
Wrong; they were wrong. These men called her son a dragon but she was the only dragon in this room. The fire from her injured skull was nothing compared to the heat that ignited in her chest. Cai wailed and she breathed rage.
“Don’t move, aye?” Earplug leaned in close. “You—”
Devon unsheathed her bookteeth and lunged for his throat.
Blood bathed her tongue, sickly and bitter, not sweet like ink. His flesh was a wet, soft, living thing, not the warm dryness of leather or paper; the bones of his neck rolled like marbles in her mouth. Twenty-six years’ worth of boiling anger was singing in her veins and, jaw locked tight, Devon wrenched.