Chapter Eleven

E vienne had barely slept, her mind fixated on puzzling out what had happened between her and Orion. She had had trysts before, ones that burned as hot and started just as quickly, but those had always just been lust. What she had done with Orion last night had made her feel in a way that was acutely uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to be that close to anyone again. Her willingness to love had ruined her the last time she let a partner in.

She enjoyed spending time with Orion—and she was obviously attracted to him—but he was only here for a month. She knew, logically, that nothing could really come of it. That’s why she had jumped into it without any real hesitation last night. She found herself wanting to be open with him, despite how hard it felt. The way he had finished at just the taste of her, it had been so vulnerable. She didn’t think he could have fabricated that. His interest in her, at least sexually, was genuine, and she wanted more. Normally she would balk at the idea of anything long-term, but now she found herself disappointed that it wasn’t a possibility with him. That disappointment terrified her.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she slammed into someone as she rounded a corner on her way to the library for tea with Cecelia. She really had to start watching where she was going; twice in one week was bad even for her. Before she could recover, her mind was suddenly flooded with images; an old man with white hair was speaking to her. No—someone else—but she was seeing through their eyes.

“I suppose go if you must,” the richly dressed old man almost grunted the words.

“I believe it is important for us to represent Beitar at this celebration; we have remained isolated too long,” Solon’s voice answered.

“Do as you see fit, Lord Solon. I give you my leave,” the old man answered lazily.

She realized that the other man she was seeing had a crown upon his head; he must be Beitar’s King. It had been surprising to her that Solon and Orion had been allowed to come at all given Beitar’s policy of isolation, but she was even more confused now having seen their King’s nonchalant attitude. Evienne drifted back into her own mind, only to find herself staring up into Solon’s handsome face.

“Oh, Solon, I’m so sorry for my clumsiness. You must forgive me, my mind was elsewhere,” Evienne said as she righted herself.

“No need to apologize. I only hope you are unhurt?” Solon asked, concern written on his face.

“Perfectly fine, if a bit embarrassed,” Evienne answered with a nervous chuckle.

“Very well. May I escort you to wherever it is you are headed?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t trouble you. I am off to see my friend Cecelia, one of the librarians.”

“Ah, to the library then. I wish you a pleasant visit with your friend, and I will see you later this afternoon for the garden party, yes?” Solon’s smile lit up his face, ever the gentleman.

“Yes, I will see you then. Apologies again, Solon.” Evienne took off walking briskly toward the library, attempting to get a handle on her thoughts.

Incidents like this had happened before, almost always by accident. She never told anyone about her mishaps. She had been tempted to tell her mentor, Hestia, a retired Sangviere, but decided it wasn’t worth sharing. Her episodes were almost certainly some form of magic, but it was unheard of for an Ichornian to have anything other than the blood magic that was their natural gift.In fact, she had never heard of anyone in Domhan na Rùin having this sort of magic.

Unknown and unwieldy magic wasn’t something that was accepted in Ichorna; they had worked too long and too hard to seem less threatening to the rest of the world. She was afraid that telling anyone about this ability could have serious consequences, especially since it was something she couldn’t control.

Strange things had happened over the years, and the memories danced through her mind as she made her way toward the library. A vision of a moment in time when Evienne had physical contact with a person, or sometimes when she simply focused her attention on someone for too long. It had happened enough times for her to realize that these were people’s memories she was seeing, moments of their lives she was stealing glimpses of. They always ended up being important somehow; it was like her magic knew she needed those seconds from the people around her.

The most troubling incident by far had taken place when Evienne was twenty years old. She and Cecelia had been out to one of the taverns in the city and had too much wine. They were young and unfamiliar with all of the dangers the world held for young women in a big city.

Evienne had gone to pay their bill, and Cecelia had wandered outside into the night air to wait. When Evienne stepped outside, however, she did not see her friend. She only heard Cecelia’s scream from an alley nearby. Evienne rushed over, horrified at the sight of her friend pinned against the alley wall.

A man loomed over her, grinning to himself. Evienne could see evidence of his intentions outlined in his pants. Cecelia was almost unconscious as the man held her throat in his massive hand. He began to unfasten his belt, and that was enough to snap Evienne into action.

All of her Sangviere training left her mind in her rage, but she felt the zing of a different power rushing through her veins as she stared at the man. She screamed her fury as she closed her fists, and the man’s grip on Cecelia faltered. Cecelia fell to the ground unconscious, and the man turned his horrified gaze to Evienne.

She watched as wrinkles appeared across his skin, his posture hunching, his eyes clouding. He screamed, and his teeth were yellow and brittle. The unknown power continued to flow from Evienne, and the attacker disintegrated into dust on the wind as Evienne watched.

Cecelia never suspected what happened that night, but Evienne knew she had stolen every moment of that vile man’s life. She had never felt guilty for what happened, only confused and overwhelmed by the power she had wielded.

Evienne was usually able to suppress thoughts of these strange occurrences, but they lingered in her mind now.

When the door to Cecelia’s study came into view, she was surprised to find it shut. She knocked and called out, “Cece, it’s me. I thought we could chat for a while?” No answer. It wasn’t like Cecelia to be away from her study at this time of day, but she supposed her friend must be taking time away from work. Evienne hoped she was visiting with Jac.

With a sigh, Evienne turned away and decided to spend her free time buried in a good book instead. She headed for the section of the library that housed all of the folktales from across Domhan na Rùin, determined to relax for a while before the events picked back up that afternoon.