House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(30)

I freeze. “You’re quite certain?” If that happens, and the Mata and the Council of Lords agree, Jannik will have no more rights than a sphynx or a unicorn. He will officially be an animal. I try swallow but my mouth has gone dry. The Houses organize great hunting parties to go into the desert after the sphynxes, they make coats from their fur and buttons from their teeth and they mount their heads on walls.

What then would they do to the vampires - use their skin to bind books, bead dresses with their sharp teeth? MallenIve is a barbarous city, the people here would find it amusing to make lyres from the vampire’s bones and string them with their dark hair.

My eyes start to burn, I always cry when I am frightened. “They can’t do that,” I say. “The freed Houses will fight it, surely.”

Carien answers me with empty eyes, as if she has no idea what I’m talking about. “It’s time we joined the men for drinks.” She walks past me, her crimson dress a dull gleam against the dark glass.



*



We leave the Eline house quiet. Jannik is deep in thought.

“Did he make the changes you wanted?” I point to the leather case at his feet.

“Hmm? Oh.” He looks blankly at the case. “Some of them.”

“Did he– did he say anything to you about a meeting with House Mata this week?”

Jannik frowns. “No. Why would he discuss his personal affairs with me?”

Why indeed. “Perhaps because they concern you.”

“And just how would a meeting between Mata and Eline have anything to do with me?”

“Carien told me that House Eline are going to push for the vampires to have the same status as sphynxes.” I cannot bring myself to look at him as I say the words. He doesn’t respond, and finally I raise my head. “Jannik, did you hear me?”

He stares out the window in silence.

“They are going to take away what little you have left. And it won’t just be House Eline – House Mata will be sure to agree, and there will be others supporting the move. Jannik – they’re going to make you into an animal.”

And like that, with just those words, I see Jannik defeated. He slumps back and covers his face with his hands. “Shit.” The word is muffled. He drags his hands down his face and stares at me. “You’re quite sure she wasn’t lying?”

Of course I can’t be sure, but I think she was paying me for my little moment of honesty. I think it was a gesture of her friendship. “I trust her word on this.”

“Shit.” He raps for the driver to stop.

The nillies clatter their hooves against the stones, and the carriage jerks and stills. A moment later, the door opens and the driver peers in. “Sir?”

“Make a stop at House Guyin before seeing the lady home.”

When the door has closed again and we are wrapped in our privacy I manage to unclench my fingers and my jaw. “Why?”

“House Guyin?” He doesn’t look at me. “I need to speak to Isidro.”

The damnable Isidro, with his perfect face and otherworldly beauty. “And what good will he do?” I manage. “Will he gather all the whores of MallenIve to march on the Mata palace?”

Jannik finally looks properly at me. “Do you think this law will matter only to me? That I will be the only one affected by it – that you,” and he spits the word at me, “will be the only who hurts?”

“I don’t–”

“Or rather, not hurts – what was I thinking – that your status will be ruined.”

“Shut up.”

He stills, but his mouth is curled in a snarl.

“You do not know me at all,” I tell him. The carriage follows the curves of a sweeping road, takes another turn, and finally draws to a halt. Outside the thick glass I can make out the drab pale face of the Guyin buildings. “You know nothing of what I think or feel.”

The night air is sweltering, and it’s hard to breathe. I feel like I’m drowning.

Jannik steps down from the carriage. “Because you do not let me. It’s not the hound’s place to know its master’s mind, only his laws.” He turns and walks away before I can think of a single thing to say back to him.

Inside I am breaking apart. If it’s true that Jannik does not know me, then the far greater truth is that I barely know the smallest thing about myself. I have been too long denying my wants.

We had a conversation once, both of us in his room, when we were just beginning our friendship. We were talking of children, and he laughed at me when I said I wanted a whole brood of them. “Like a litter of dogs,” he’d said. But he hadn’t been mocking me, I’d amused him.

Everything about him reminded me of what I had left behind, and I think I hated him a little for that. Hated that I had run and he hadn’t. I slept next to him that night and woke before he did, and I’d watched him. He was clever and he was a contradiction; well-bred and yet lower than dirt, but in sleep none of that mattered. I could look at him and see not a collection of my own prejudices but a boy with hair like spilled ink, a poet and a game piece.

I think I came to a realization that morning, but I didn’t want to face it then. How strange now to find myself in love with my husband. After everything we have been to each other, I did not think there was space in our hearts for this.