The Damned (The Beautiful #2)(81)

She turns to me, her face stern and unforgiving. Carved from granite. “I would ask one last time that our lady’s daughter accompany us back to the Summer Court of the Vale. If you care at all about her safety”—she glowers at me and at Arjun—“tell her to heed this advice.” The entire time she speaks, she avoids looking at Celine.

I’m certain Celine is well aware of this.

Laughter flies from Arjun’s lips. “You’ve truly mastered that expression,” he says to Yuri. “You could burn the feathers off a nighthawk with nothing more than the force of your glare. My mother would be proud.”

Yuri frowns. “At least one of us can say we’ve made the general proud.” Her waist-length braid of straight black hair swings over one shoulder. “If General Riya were here to see you working in service to blood drinkers . . .” There is no malice in her tone. Simply cold truth.

“Thankfully I forswore the desire to make my mother proud years ago,” Arjun says with a grin. “Would you believe I chose to work for Nicodemus Saint Germain just to see if her head would explode?” He pauses, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Or perhaps for nothing more than the sheer joy I knew it would bring her.”

“Nicodemus Saint Germain’s assassin murdered your mother’s best friend,” Yuri says.

“Don’t fret,” Arjun retorts. “Shin Jaehyuk isn’t exactly my favorite vampire at present.”

Yuri sucks in her cheeks as if she’s swallowed a lemon. Then she angles her unyielding gaze at me. “I hope you’re not as foolish as he is, leech.” Her lips twitch, her disgust plain. “Our lady’s daughter turns to you for more than guidance. She trusts what you have to say. Tell her to remain in the Vale, where it is safe.”

Celine steps between us, her brows gathered low on her forehead. “I’m still here, Yuri.”

“I know,” Yuri says without blinking. “I also know I will not succeed in persuading you; therefore, it is not a worthwhile use of my time.” She shifts back toward me. “What say you, leech?”

I say nothing in response. Instead I look at Celine. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know how decisions are made in the Vale, Yuri,” Celine says, “but I gather it was not easy for you to attain such a lofty position. And I believe neither you nor my mother appreciate being told what to do by any man, friend or foe.”

Yuri’s lips twitch again.

“I will do as I please, and neither you nor these gentlemen will make such decisions for me,” Celine finishes.

Yuri harrumphs. Stabs the staff of her spear through the fragrant soil at her feet.

“At least in the Wyld,” I say, “I will see the monsters that come our way and know they are monsters.” A part of me thinks such a pointed statement will kindle Yuri’s ire.

But she seems to appreciate candor.

“You have no idea of what you speak.” Yuri’s tone is grim. “The monsters of the Wyld attack without provocation. They do not need a reason or a purpose to rip you to shreds.”

Unease radiates down my spine. I want more than anything to do as Yuri asks and demand that Celine remain in the Sylvan Vale, under the protection of her mother.

I am still not the man I want to be. I can only hope I am better today than I was yesterday.

“Thank you for the warning,” I say to Yuri.

“Be it on your head, then, vampire,” Yuri replies. She reaches into her cloak and removes two longer daggers and a short dirk. All three blades are clearly fashioned of solid silver, their matching sheaths bejeweled with rubies. She turns to her second in command, who produces a weapon much like a crossbow, but shorter, its quarrels blunt, their tips gleaming silver as well.

“We were told you are a bit of a marksman,” Yuri says to me. “A revolver will draw too much attention in the Wyld. Such a bombastic, uncivilized sort of weapon. It reveals your position after the first shot. The lack of subtlety is so like a vampire.” She sneers. “This crossbow will fire ten quarrels in succession before it needs to be reloaded. I suppose your much-lauded aim will be of use with at least one of them.” She snaps her fingers, and three of the Grey Cloaks nearest to her remove their hooded garments and pass one to Arjun, one to Celine, and one to me.

“Since you clearly lack all sense of reason, you might as well take these, though they won’t save you from your own stupidity,” Yuri says. “Also you’ll need gloves, leech. These weapons were designed to work against you, not for you.” She pitches a pair of soft leather gloves my way. “A final word of warning,” she finishes. “Tread lightly wherever you go. Speak only when necessary, and never stay too long in one place. If you find yourself ambushed, protect Celine. If you don’t, your lives will be forfeit.” She sniffs. “And the Lady of the Vale likes to take her time when she exacts punishment.”

I almost smile. In another time and place, I would like Yuri. She reminds me of Odette.

A grin ghosts across my lips. They would hate each other.

Yuri gestures toward the other Grey Cloaks, who form a line on their side of the bridge and watch as Celine, Arjun, and I cross.

The cold descends on us slowly, just like the darkness of an encroaching dusk. Halfway across the bridge, clouds of air form around Celine’s and Arjun’s mouths with each exhale. There is a shift in the wind, like the changing of the seasons. Even the smell turns to one of frost and mint and something else, unlike anything I’ve ever encountered on the mortal plane. Light sprinkles of snow begin to fall, our boots crunching through the frozen stillness. The only other sound is that of the skeletal trees, icicles tinkling together like wintry wind chimes.