Chapter 7

Evangeline

THE STAIRWAY AND uneven walls faded from Evangeline’s existence, morphing into another room where rock and stone floors still enclosed her. The cool dampness of it seeped into her bare arms; she wore only a short-sleeved blue top, untucked into tailored pants with fine beading along the cuffs. Both were soft against her skin as she followed a familiar-looking face.

“I discovered this beauty not too long after we stormed the castle,” Jaden said, his black shoulder-length hair pulled into a tight bun. Green eyes set into a tanned, handsome face met hers as he pulled something from the wall.

Evangeline recognized the dark bottle he held, and then looked around at others just like it, resting in row after row, spanning a few heads taller than herself. Her lips pulled into a smile. “Your greatest discovery yet. This has to be the best aged wine in all the land.”

“I say we celebrate our findings—and our victory.”

She let Jaden pull her along up the spiral stairwell next to the cellar. Blue, yellow, and white mosaic tiles decorated each step as they made their way to the top. A door greeted them at the end of the hallway, a part of the castle Evangeline hadn’t seen yet.

Multiple rugs, each with a unique pattern, littered the floor between couches that hung low. Maroon and gold designs fashioned the walls, and hanging lamps trimmed with dangling beads dimly lit the space—which was unusually small and cozy compared to the rest of the castle.

“A private room for our private celebration. How quaint.” Evangeline raised a brow at Jaden, who had let go of her hand to present her a small bow.

“It looks like the Council had used this room for wine tastings. Judging by the decor, they wanted to pretend they were far, far away from Peredia.” He placed the bottle on the knee-length table that sat between the sofas and procured two wineglasses from the shelves fixated to the wall. “And now it is ours.”

Jaden poured them both a glass, and Evangeline took it, raising it for a toast before taking a sip.

“Too bad we don’t have any guests to share it with.” Evangeline swirled the red contents, its liquid burning all the way down her throat, along with a hint of remorse and something close to guilt. The sacrifices it took to claw her way to the top of this world . . . were they worth it?

Jaden raised his glass, oblivious to her thoughts. “Soon, we will. The entire world will recognize us for who we are, and when they feel the echo of our power, they will come.”

Evangeline sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs. She peered up at the man she had laid down her life for and loved with a burning passion that she held for no other. And as if a veil had been lifted for the first time, she suddenly looked at him more closely. Differently. Had the man she’d grown up with—fallen in love with—changed?

Or was it she who had changed?

Evangeline came to, her head resting on the floor. She brought a hand up to her temple, where a dull throb remained. At least she had made it up the stairs. She didn’t know if she could handle falling down another flight today.

She gripped the wall, hefting herself to her feet. Her surroundings looked eerily similar. At the end of the hallway a door greeted her, the same one from her hallucination.

The taste of blood didn’t linger in her mouth, not like it had in the past when she’d experienced these hallucinations, dreams, or, as Avana had said, memories.

Memories of what? And from when?

Her nails scraped along the jagged edges of the wall, her brows shoved together. Not only did she have to deal with being a human facing a horde of Nytes, but she was also fighting against herself. Her own growing sickness, increased hallucinations, loss of appetite, and changing body.

Shaking off the pain that thrummed in her head along with her previous scrapes, bruises, and aches, she stretched toward the door. Her cheek still burned, and she was sure her face was a mess. If what was behind that door was the same room as the one she had seen, she could, at the very least, take those wine glasses, shatter them, and use the stems as makeshift knives.

Better than nothing.

She crouched beside the door, taking a breather. Gods, she so badly wanted to lie down and rest. Adrenaline had gotten her this far, but her energy was dwindling. She’d love nothing more than to close her eyes and not have to worry about anything for a while. But right now, she couldn’t afford that luxury—not with Lani’s life on the line.

Steadying her breath, she closed her eyes and listened. Far away shuffling reverberated off the rock walls, whether from guards or the humans moving about in the cages, she didn’t know. A low hum echoed across the rocky underground, but she couldn’t decipher what it was. It could’ve been her own mind, still humming in pain, for all she knew. She pressed her ear against the wood frame to get a better sense of anyone on the other side. No footsteps, or the mumblings of another person. Nothing that hinted at a Nyte waiting to kill her.

Her fingers grazed the knob of the door, her heart thundering. This could very well be the end of the road for her, but she had to do something.

The door was quieter than expected as she slid it open. The maroon-and-gold patterned walls didn’t surprise her, but the state of them did. The wallpaper hung off them in curled chunks, like worms she would sweep away in Lani’s room. Her boots padded across pockets of carpet sprawled across the concrete floor. No rugs. A single overhead chandelier illuminated a pair of sofas—one of them occupied.

Evangeline froze.

Fortunately, the Aerian looked to be sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His wings stayed tucked to his sides, the pink, red, and purple feathers looking softer than the dull sofa they rested on. He didn’t look to be a guard, donning a black coat instead of plated armor, and upon closer inspection, she recognized him as the same Aerian who had been in the room with Lani. While that Rathan had forced her friend to the floor, this man had woven a needle into that Nyte’s flesh, inking him like those guards. Except, she didn’t see a single marking on this Aerian.

Her skin prickled with bumps, her teeth slamming against one another. She wanted to make him pay, to suffer like all those humans rotting away in those cells. Her eyes shifted from his sleeping form to the half empty bottle next to him. She wetted her lips as if she could still taste the wine from that memory.

The bottle was uncorked, with no glass beside it. But to her luck, a shelf of glasses sat on the other side of the room. Red cloths now covered the wood shelves she’d seen in her memory and looked to have a hefty layer of dust, but it held several glasses all the same.

She knew what she had to do.

Her knees stayed bent as she shifted her weight to make no sound as she crept across the room. Every snore, every shift of his body, made her pause, waiting for a few stammering heartbeats before continuing.

Glass in hand, she now hovered over the sleeping Aerian. His nose was slanted, his lips as thin as the silver chain necklaces hanging between the unbuttoned coat that hung down past his waist. Her nostrils flared as she pictured Lani whimpering in pain while this Nyte stood there and accepted it. As if it were any other day. She couldn’t take away the suffering this Aerian had caused countless humans, but she could avenge them. She could make sure this Aerian felt the same pain.

Her finger curled around the stem of the wine glass. She would only have a fraction of time to smash it against the concrete floor before angling the broken stem at this Aerian’s throat. Or, on second thought . . .

Crash!

The glass smashed into smithereens at the same time the Aerian jolted straight up—and stilled. Evangeline applied just enough pressure against the tender crevice between his thigh and groin.

“Make one move and I’ll shove this glass so deep you’ll never be able to piss again,” she said, mustering as much venom as she could into her voice. She felt alive, like every joint in her body was wound tight and prepped to fling into motion at any second. Her gaze fixated on the man’s brown ones, his face oddly plain for an Aerian possessing wings with all the colors of a sunset.

“What . . . what’s going on?” His words sounded heavy, and his lips were stained red, like the ladies of the Aerian court.

“My friend, Delani Thompson, she was in the room with you and that Rathan before the king came. I want you to tell me where she is. Give me a spitting poor answer and I’ll cut you to pieces.” She pressed harder, and the man squirmed, eyes widening as his drunken stupor faded.

“Now, calm down. You got this all wrong—”

 “Not the answer I’m looking for.” She prodded the tip of the glass stem deeper.

“Okay, okay! Stop! I’ll tell you, please, just . . . please stop?” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. Evangeline wondered how many humans had cried for mercy and if he had ever shown them any. She didn’t let the pressure up.

“Start talking.”

“Look, I’m not the enemy, though it may look like it—” Her hand moved, and he spit out, “She was taken to the isolated holding cells! I don’t know why. That was just the orders we were given. I was told to look after her wounds, to make sure she didn’t die. I’m a healer.”

“Didn’t look like you were healing anybody the last time I checked.”

“If you let me explain—”

Her makeshift glass needle cut his words off as she shifted her palm. “Where are these holding cells?”

“It’s pointless! She’ll be locked up, and only Officer Vane has the keys. You wouldn’t be able to get her out anyway!”

Nausea crept up her throat at the thought of Vane. But of course, it was his note that had brought her here. She had known she was potentially going to face him. “I’ll be the judge of that. I won’t ask again, where are the blasted holding cells?”

He shook his head but complied. “They’re down these stairs and across the hall, adjacent to the main dungeon. It’ll be a room with a metal door. You’ll know it when you see four claw marks gouged into its frame—don’t ask how they got there, you don’t want to know.”

She did want to know, especially if it was where Lani was, but more importantly . . . “You better not be lying.”

“I’m not!” His face darkened. “Despite what you think, I want to help you. I want to help all these blasted humans.”

“Sure you do. And while my knife is pressed against your crotch, I’m sure you’d promise to behead the king and save all the humans of Peredia while you’re at it.”

“Look, you seem capable of handling yourself”—he glanced up and down her person—“and even if you don’t believe me now, if you ever change your mind, I think you’d be a great addition to our cause.”

Evangeline frowned. Well, this was unexpected. Her plan of shoving her makeshift knife through this man, watching him holler and bleed out right before she stabbed his neck withered away. What if by some chance this Aerian was telling the truth? After all, she’d risked her life on a rumor about Nytes who smuggled humans out of Peredia in the nearby town, Helgard, when she’d first trekked beyond the city walls.

But even if she were foolish enough to consider the possibility that he may be telling the truth, she wasn’t stupid enough to remove the knife altogether. “And just how do you plan to save these humans? There must be hundreds here, and even more in the rest of the castle. You don’t seriously expect me to believe you could save everyone.”

His brows knitted together, a pained expression crossing his features. “No . . . of course not. Many lives have been taken, and many more will follow. But I vow to save as many as I can. There are many of us, hidden throughout the castle, and more in the city. I can’t tell you what we have planned. There’s not enough time.”

“Maybe, but if you mean to help us humans, you can start by saving my friend Lani.” It was dangerous, trusting this Nyte even a bit, but going alone across unknown territory was also an enormous risk.

“I can’t.” He glanced at the bottle of wine, his face twisting into a grimace. “I have to go back and continue the king’s work. To gain leverage—and information.”

Evangeline now wondered if he had been drinking to ease the guilt he felt. For continuing the suffering, even if it meant it was all for a bigger cause—supposedly.

She sighed and removed the makeshift knife, sliding the glass pick into the band of her waist. “As much as I would love to save everyone here, it’s a lost cause. The king and the Peredian army are unstoppable. Even if managed to get these people out of here, more would take their place.” The only way to put an end would be to chop off the head of the operation. To kill King Calais. And there was no way she’d be capable of doing that.

The Aerian stood and backed away from her, as if she may try to stab him despite her words. “But we still have to try. If you ever change your mind, look for the cut of an ear, four marks of freckles that linger beneath the eye, or a scar above the mouth. Those marks will show who is for our cause.” She noted he had none of these marks. Then again, she assumed some members would need to be discreet. If everyone was identifiable, they would be sniffed out and killed.

She shrugged and half-turned toward the door, still keeping an eye on him. “Maybe. I won’t promise anything.”

“The name’s Petri, by the way.”

“Evangeline. Though, if you’ve been in the castle long enough, I’m sure you knew that.”

He nodded. “I hope you find your friend, Evangeline, and may the Gods watch over you. You’re going to need it.”