House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(37)

Jannik puts his hand on my arm, an absent-minded gesture. Heat rushes from his palm through my skin, and a shiver of magic flows with it.

I keep still as a lizard on a rock, hoping he does not notice what he’s done. This, this is what the Houses want, and Gris be damned but I want it too.

“Could she – that’s – is it possible?” Jannik asks Isidro, who is looking more and more distressed. His fingers curl and uncurl, and a faint sheen of sweat dews his skin.

Before Isidro can answer, the door to the parlour slams open and Harun stalks into the room. He’s rumpled, his hair is unbrushed and he’s dirty. Even his coat is dull with neglect. “You’re worried about something,” he says, ignoring Jannik and myself as completely as if we were merely part of his undusted furniture.

It takes me a moment to realize what he means, until I remember Dash and Jannik, and the way they were on the verge of thinking each other’s thoughts; how Jannik could feel Dash’s terror, and his pain. The bond, of course. Jannik and Dash hadn’t even had a real bond, whereas Isidro and Harun have had years to grow this thing between them. I shudder delicately. Horrifying, the thought of being trapped feeling another person’s every mood. How do they lie, even gently and to save each other?

“Perhaps.” Isidro inclines his head.

“Not perhaps. Do you think I couldn’t possibly feel this? It’s not as if I miss anything else.” Harun punctuates his final words with a passing glare at Jannik, who pulls his hand from my arm as if he’s been stung.

The connection of his magic breaks abruptly. “Harun.” Jannik stands and takes several steps away from where I’m seated. “We’re sorry to trouble you this evening, but if what Felicita is saying is true, then we may have a greater problem to face than we had originally feared–”

“You are far from welcome in my house,” Harun says.

Jannik doesn’t respond.

“Lady Pelim,” Harun snaps. “A word in private.” But he won’t even look at me, just stares at these two betrayers as if he’s daring them to do something right in front of him, and confirm what he already knows.

The two vampires exchange glances, and I sigh. I don’t need Harun’s anger on top of my own. Let the vampires do as they please. He should do what I do and learn to slip all his emotions under layers and layers of nothingness until they are barely there at all. Or perhaps that is a skill only women are taught. I stand, flicking my skirt as I do. “If you must, sir.”

Harun holds open the door and waits for me to exit before he follows. His presence behind is looming, foreboding and I feel like I’m being stalked by a feral dog that could turn on me at any moment. That cold dry snake is back in my belly, coiling and uncurling. I feel ill.

We make our way to the formal lounge at the very front of the house. “I still have premonitions, you know,” he says after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. House Guyin was a House full of Saints, and their precious lost heir was one too. He shouldn’t still be.

“Without scriv? I had no idea that was possible.”

Harun snorts and goes to pour himself a drink. “They’re not real futures,” he says. “Just bad dreams, warnings.”

“Were we to take every bad dream as a prophecy then what use would we have for Saints?” I murmur.

He scowls. “They’re about Isidro.”

“And because of this you need to talk privately with me? Surely I am the wrong person to be addressing with your fears?”

“And Jannik.” He can barely say the name.

I draw myself straighter, keep my breathing even.

“Something’s going to happen, because of them – to them.” He fists one hand in his curling hair. “I don’t know.”

“Isidro’s spoken to you about the Lord’s Council,” I say.



He nods.

“There’s your disaster. But it won’t happen, both our Houses will vote against the motion, and it will not be passed.” I bolster my uncertainty.

Harun keeps glaring at me. “Felicita. Who’s the representative of House Pelim in MallenIve?”

Oh. “It would be Jannik.”

“Who happens to be a f*cking bat and therefore cannot vote in the Lord’s Council. Especially over a matter that would condemn him to the status of an animal. Again – who is House Pelim’s representative?”

“It seems the duty will fall to me.” I have never taken part in MallenIve’s council – an assemblage of High Houses who decide the fate of the city’s people. In Pelimburg the oligarchy is effectively three Houses, but here in MallenIve, they follow House Mata’s lead, who is in turn tempered by his peers. A complicated system and one prone to corruption.

And laziness. More than half the lords don’t bother to show for the councils, and when they do, they sleep or make mercenary deals through the proceedings.

“I will be there,” I say. “You can be certain of that. Nothing will happen to them.”

There’s more, of course. Harun forces his next words out, and even I can hear how they tear at his layers of House armour. “Good. Until – until then, you are to keep your – him – away from us – from Isidro.” As if that will somehow snap through the knots they’ve tied.