“Three days after you disappeared, I got a note. At the time, I thought it was from you. It made it clear you weren’t coming back.”
Her hand left him and her voice grew faint, a note of begging twirling around her words. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry I put you through that.”
Esh pushed away from the window, not looking at her as he set for the bedroom. “How’s that closure working for you?”
Chapter Ten
‡
The first fights were starting, and Nalah wasn’t there to watch Esh.
It had been by mutual, unspoken decision, come to as they’d worked around the apartment with awkward jerks and split-second stops so to not touch each other. For the first time, her presence would be more hindrance than help, and Esh couldn’t lose in these first rounds. Beyond the toll it would take on his reputation, it was only after today’s fights that the real festivities would begin, where Nalah would have access to Beylor’s home and Tiffany would start wearing the brag-worthy pieces of her collection.
Once again, she was with the other women, a surprising number of whom weren’t going to watch their men.
Tiffany snorted. “Why would they? It’s boring. I only go on the last day because it’s expected.”
They were alone for the moment, Tiffany wanting girl time with Nalah. Nalah picked up the drink Tiffany had brought for her, the smell of alcohol strong even this early in the morning. “I love watching Esh fight.”
Tiffany near purred before she took a big gulp from her own glass. “I’d definitely make an exception if I was cheering him. But if that’s the way it is, why aren’t you there today?”
“He told me not to bother, the real fights don’t begin until round two anyway.”
“He’s right. Most of the guests don’t go until second round either. I asked Bey why he doesn’t cut it in half, but he said day one is good for the bloodlust crowd and he makes a fair amount in bets.”
Tiffany rattled off the explanation like it was no big deal. Why hadn’t Nalah realized in asking Esh to fight, she was asking him to put himself in the way of people who wanted not just to fight, but to kill him? Or that he might have to kill in order to keep himself protected? He was a fighter, and she had no doubt he’d kill if he had to, but that wasn’t his nature. It was one of the reasons he was so careful in choosing his own fights, to prevent that. How could she have been that stupid?
Because Esh always kept you away from the worst. You might talk big, but you still have this almost romantic version of the fights. Fucking traitorous inner voice, making her feel smaller than she had last night and so young. She’d always felt old, starting even before her mom died when she was seven. But these last few days, she felt young and stripped, facing all her poor decisions and coming away shamed.
A chill wind of magic blew through, a hint of power, subtle, amorphous. Nalah pulled herself from her thoughts, looking around in what she hoped was a nonchalant fashion to find the source.
Through the room came a being more porcelain doll than flesh-and-blood woman. Her silvery-white hair was pinned up in the front but the near knee-length mass flowed down her back in perfect curls, falling over shoulders bared by her red corseted gown, her skin almost the same color as her hair. Refined features, a little rosebud mouth, an aristocratic, pouty slant to her cheekbones and jaw, and her eyes…
Pure midnight black, save a pinprick of white in the center. They didn’t reflect the surrounding light; they absorbed it, turning all to darkness within them.
Tiffany shivered and Nalah fought to prevent herself from joining in. The newcomer was touched with the same magic the albino had been. Whatever evil was present here, she was part of it. The magic was building at the base of her head, pounding into her shields like waves rolling into breakers.
The woman didn’t look around, but Nalah had the gut deep certainty she was being studied. No one spoke or moved until the woman left the room.
Conversation began after several minutes, low and halting, as if everyone were waiting to see if the doll-woman came back. Nalah leaned over and spoke to Tiffany in similar low tones. “Who is that?”
“Everyone calls her The Pale Lady.” Tiffany spoke the name with reverential terror, and Nalah could hear the capitalization of the words. “Bey says he doesn’t know why she’s here, that she’s never come to any of the Tours before. I don’t think he’s happy she’s here, but he never says anything out loud.”
She wasn’t vampire. The magic was close, but not quite.
More worrying was the fact that this was her first Tour. Even as Esh put forward the theory last night that maybe the dark magic was here to satiate bloodlust with the Tour, she could tell by his tone he was doubtful about it. But with Tiffany’s info, doubtful became not applicable, and that meant this Pale Lady was after the magic ring.