The Young Elites (The Young Elites, #1)(32)

I stay quiet. My hands are trembling violently in my lap, and I clutch them together harder so that no one will notice. My gaze stays fixed straight ahead at Raffaele’s performance. Does anyone else notice him? Does Raffaele? Someone help me, I think, my eye darting around the room. If I make a commotion now, Teren will be revealed—but what will stop him from dragging me back to the Inquisition Tower, or killing me on the spot? The other Daggers aren’t here to protect me, and Raffaele can’t. I’m on my own.

“Tell me,” Teren whispers. “Have the Young Elites taken you under their wing?”

Drumbeats pound in my ears. I stay frozen, unable to answer his question.

“Seeing as how you’re alive and well, I’ll assume yes.” I don’t even have to see Teren’s face to know that he’s smiling. “Are you so sure about their intentions? Do you trust your rescuers so easily?”

If I weren’t terrified, I would laugh at his words. As if I had a reason to think the Inquisitors would be any more trustworthy.

“Speak, Adelina,” Teren warns me. “I would hate to make a scene and arrest you.”

My voice startles to life. I turn my head slightly, then whisper back in a tiny, choked voice drowned out by the drums. “What do you want?” I stammer.

The beat of the drums changes. Teren whispers to me through their thundering rhythm. “I know you are new to them. You probably don’t know everything about their inner workings. But I suspect you will, and soon.” He shifts closer as the drums grow steadily more frantic. “So here’s how we can help each other out.”

Why would I want to help you? I suck in my breath in a vain attempt to calm myself, and in the dark corners of the room I can see memories of my burning day, the way Teren’s pale eyes had pulsed at me.

“Observe everything,” he whispers in my ear. “Look, listen, and remember. I know where you are now. I will check in on you from time to time. And I expect you to share what you learn with me.”

My heart keeps time with the frenzied drumbeats. I can’t breathe.

“If you do, not only will I spare your life, but I will shower you with riches. I can grant you your every desire.” He smiles. “Just think of it. You can redeem yourself, change from an abomination in the gods’ eyes to a savior.” He pauses, and his voice deepens. On the platform stage, Raffaele pulls the young female consort to him. The two twirl. He spins away from her and does the same with the male consort. “If you don’t, not only will I destroy you, but I will destroy everything you care about.”

Tides of fear and anger rise in my chest, fusing into one, filling my mind with whispers. “What do you know of what I care about?” I murmur harshly.

“Have you already forgotten your little sister? What a cold heart.”

Violetta. An icy claw grips my heart. Suddenly I’m back in my nightmare, putting my arm around my frail sister as a thunderstorm rages outside, then turning her around to find that she is not there at all.

No. He’s just trying to bait you. “What could you possibly know about my sister?” I snap.

“Plenty enough. On the morning of your burning, she came to me to beg for your life. Did you know that? Now it’s your turn to return her favor.”

He’s lying.

“You don’t have her,” I mutter.

Teren’s reply is one full of amusement. “Do you really want to play that game with me?”

My resolve quivers. She had gone to him? What if Teren is telling the truth—what if she did, and he kept her? Whispers swirl in my mind, their words incomprehensible, filling me with the buzz of terror. And I thought she had moved on, perhaps promised to marry some wealthy man. What if she’d instead been with the Inquisition for weeks?

Why would you do that for me, Violetta?

“I don’t believe you,” I whisper.

Teren doesn’t answer, and for a long moment, we just listen to the drums. Just when I think he might have left altogether, he replies, “I have your sister, whether you want to believe it or not. And I will happily torture her until you can hear her screams from the Fortunata Court’s beautiful balconies.”

He is lying. He is lying. He must be. I imagine Violetta’s terrified face, tears streaking her cheeks. I imagine blood.

“Give me time,” I finally whisper. I don’t know what else to say.

“Of course,” Teren answers soothingly. “We are on the same side. You’ll soon realize you’re fighting for the right cause.” His tone turns strangely reverential. Serious and grave. “You can help me fix this world, Adelina.”

I’m caught in the middle of a tightening web.

“Next week,” he whispers. “I want to see you at the Inquisition Tower. Bring me some information that I’ll find useful.”

“How do I know you won’t simply seize me once I arrive?”

“Stupid girl,” Teren snaps. “If I wanted you arrested, I’d do it right now. Why would I seize you when you can be my little helper?” He draws very close, his breath hot against my ear. “If I like what you tell me when you arrive at the Tower, your sister gets to be pampered and fed until the next time I see you. If you don’t come to me . . .” He pauses. I can see his subtle shrug out of the corner of my vision. “Then I don’t keep up my end of the bargain.”