Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(102)

Crimson pools in her large eyes.

She moans like she’s about to cry, and red tears spill down her cheeks.

I gape at her, not sure what I’m seeing.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice turning into gurgles. “I just wanted to try it on.” Then she coughs.

Blood splatters my face and I stumble back, a cry of horror bursting from my lungs as she collapses.

Faelan rushes in behind me. “What happened?” He takes me by the arms, looking me over frantically. “You’re bleeding.”

I shake my head and point down at Niamh, not able to form the words. She’s writhing on the floor, choking, drowning, blood bubbling from her mouth in a frothy pink mess.

“Holy Danu,” he says, kneeling at her side as she goes still again.

In seconds the blood is everywhere, coating her face, her neck, pooling under her. He tries to lift her head, but it’s like she’s melting, her body crumpling in on itself.

I sob, covering my mouth, and fall to my knees. I squeeze my eyes shut. My stomach rises. My chest throbs. I want to scream until I go deaf so I don’t have to hear the gurgling.

More voices enter the room—James’s and Aelia’s. Someone’s shouting, and the smell of green grass fills the air. Nothing makes sense. When silence falls, I dare to open my eyes again.

Aelia, James, and Faelan are all kneeling around Niamh’s body. Or what’s left of it. Part of her skull is caved in, and her right hand and part of her right arm have melted into a gooey liquid. There are dark purple veins showing through what’s left of her skin, and her eyes are completely gone.

I keep my hands over my mouth, but I can’t hold in the groan that spills out. How can this be real?

“What was she thinking?” Aelia shakes her head, tears filling her eyes. James reaches out for something, but she smacks his hand hard, shouting, “Don’t touch it!”

“The ring’s poisoned,” Faelan says. He glances at me. “It was meant for Sage.”

“Goddess below,” Aelia breathes, her voice shaking. “Oh, Niamh. You stupid, stupid pixie.”

“What . . . what happened?” I choke out.

Aelia wipes the tears from her cheek. “She must’ve opened your tribute from the House of Morrígan.” She motions to something in the pool of liquid that was Niamh’s hand and arm. “She put it on.”

A ring sits where Niamh’s hand was. A ring with a large ruby. The stone catches the light, glinting red over the walls, like the cottage is bleeding too.

I stare at it, confused. “I don’t understand, why . . . how could a ring do this?” Niamh is dead. She’s in my living room and she’s melted, dead.

Faelan sits back, rubbing his forehead. “It looks like Sagitta Anathema.” Fear is thick in his voice, and it sets my pulse racing. “It’s poison. Undetectable and very effective.” He stands quickly and walks away, heading for the kitchen. “Kieran is an evil bastard, but I had no idea he’d go this far.” He pulls a pair of tongs from a drawer and comes back, kneels down, and uses them to pick up the ring.

“I don’t get it,” Aelia says. “He wants Sage for his House, doesn’t he?”

“Did Kieran do this?” It was meant for me . . . I was the one who was supposed to put on that ring. I should be lying there, not Niamh.

Faelan picks up the discarded bag from beside Niamh’s body and drops the ring back inside. “We can’t know for sure, but the Cast could decide to claim the property. Since it happened at the master’s personal home and it was an attack against his guest.”

“Shit,” Aelia says, standing in a rush. She waves her hand at the air, and a lamp flies across the room, crashing into the far wall. “Shitshitshit!”

Faelan ignores her and turns to James. “I need you to call my underground contact.” He looks down at the body again. “We need to get this cleaned up fast. No one outside this room, besides Marius, can hear about it. Niamh doesn’t have family, so it’ll be a while until anyone realizes she’s missing, and by then Sage’s Emergence will be over.”

My gut twists, the reality, the horror of the world I’m becoming a part of hitting me all over again.

“We can’t hide this,” Aelia says, sounding nervous now. “We need to at least tell the Cast. If this was Kieran, he should be held accountable.”

“Are you kidding me?” Faelan says, his words dripping with bitterness. “The Cast couldn’t give a shit about the life of this pixie. You were at that party; you know what they planned to do, and those were humans. Where is the Cast’s justice for that? They’ve done nothing, not even a slap on the wrist. They’re only worried about the Balance. Princess Mara has them in her pocket. And Sage is too monumental to delay the Emergence with an inquiry. They’ll just take away your father’s leadership in the House instead, pretending to do their job, saying he’s weak.”

“Why would Kieran want to kill me?” I ask, unable to accept it.

“The poison wouldn’t have killed you,” Faelan says. “Niamh is an underling, so it was . . . detrimental to her. It wouldn’t have done this to you, a demi. It would’ve poisoned your blood and made you sick for a very long time. You’d likely have wished you were dead, but you’d have been plunged into a comatose state, so you wouldn’t have been able to say a thing about it.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t get why Kieran would do this.”