Abolisher [Drothiker #2]

25.

Azryle awoke to a dagger at his throat.

It was as if life had been jostled into him. When he gasped awake, his blood was pounding, his head was spinning. His mind rushed—cold sweat laminated his forehead. It took moments for his sight to adjust.

Delaya Fairdust stood over him.

Typically, he would've easily skimmed out from her hold, but pain coursed through him. He couldn't move, his body a heavy weight. He couldn't move—

"Where is the stone," Delaya demanded. "I swear I will slit your throat right here."

Azryle didn't know where he was, but the window behind the woman was open, dawn's light streaming it. She'd sneaked in.

"Coward." Azryle remained calm, even as his heart was a drumming bell. "You didn't play by the plan. You never came for Vendrik. What," he crooned, "did you piss yourself when you saw Felset?"

Her eyes flashed before she slammed the dagger's pommel into his temple. Azryle's vision darkened, faintness rushed through him. If only he could move—

"I will not repeat myself, Prince."

"Then don't." He let his head rest on the pillow. "I tire of hearing your horrid voice."

The dagger's blade pressed in his throat. "Is this really the end you want? I won't be so generous, ripper." Her weapon moved to his cheek—right where his zegruks began beneath his cheekbone. "I wonder how you will scream when I peel the markings off."

Azryle kept his face impassive. "Good luck. Do your worst."

"Oh, I will."

He shut his eyes when the dagger bit into his skin hard enough to draw blood. He wouldn't scream, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction—

The bedroom's door creaked open. The lights turned on. Azryle dared lift his lids.

Fairdust wasn't leaning over him anymore. She'd turned to face the door. Where Syrene stood, lightning buzzing at her fingers, whirring in her eyes, death on her face. Azryle stilled.

"Here's a tip for the next time you try to climb a building," she drawled, bringing up her fingers to eye the bright threats of lightning. "Try to avoid the windows."

Delaya snarled. That dagger lifted from Azryle's cheek, and went zooming for Syrene. His instincts edged. But Syrene simply caught the dagger in her hand. "Tch," she tutted. Her gaze slid to Azryle. Azure eyes met those of silver. "So aggressive, your friend."

He physically felt the absence when those eyes left.

"This has nothing to do with you," Delaya hissed.

"Oh, of course not." She crossed her arms. "Except, of course, you do happen to be in my apartment, and disturbing my guests." She yawned. "Along with my sleep."

Delaya began chuckling. She shook her head, as if an invisible wight had whispered a joke in her ear. "Syrene Alpenstride." Syrene stiffened at that. "Always a smug."

"One of my countless traits, yes." There was no humor on her face anymore. Instead, a deep furrow had dug between her brows. "Am I supposed to be returning the sentiment?"

"You are not." Delaya's grinned. "But in the coming days, you sure will be thinking about me." Then—

A flash of bright light.

Azryle's body, free of whatever bounds Fairdust had shackled him in, moved, Syrene stepped forward to catch the woman, but a crow was already soaring out of the open window.