Made From Death (The Darkest Queens Series Book 1), page 13
"Do not take your shirt off."
"Why, it's only fair?" She reached down, pinching the bottom of her shirt between her fingers. She had a wide banded black bra top, just a plain boring thing she'd stolen, under her shirt. So it wasn't as if she was going to be as naked as he was. Plus, watching him squirm was bringing her far too much delight. "Listen, it'll be fine. I won't touch you. You won't touch me. Our clothes will be dry by morning. And that's that! That's all it is! We don't even like each other." She wasn’t sure why she added the last bit.
"Fine, but let me grab you a blanket."
"Would that make you feel better?" she asked, well aware of her condescending tone.
"Yes, it would," he huffed.
His grandmother continued to snore away as Shelby grabbed a thick green quilt. He held it up between them while Ace undressed even going as far as peeling off her pants and socks. She took her time laying them out around the fireplace. She even checked to make sure Shelby wasn't peeking; for some reason she was kind of hoping he would, but of course, when she stood on her tiptoes and pulled the blanket down to wrap around her, not only with his head turned to the side but his eyes were pressed closed.
"I'm covered in my blanket dress," she said. The warmth of the fire next to her made her feel like she was being washed in a warm bath. Now that she was wrapped up in the dry blanket she could feel it finally working to fight the chill that had settled into her bones. Shuffling over to the couch, Ace crawled up on it and rested her head on the armrest.
Shelby looked at her clothes for a minute before he went to unbuckle his pants. He caught her staring. Again.
"Turn away," he demanded.
"You're awfully modest.”
"Yeah sure," he agreed. When he’d successfully gotten down to just his undershorts he began layering blankets into a pallet on the floor, mumbling to himself.
Ace looked down at him as he settled with a blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. He looked like a child and that made her laugh a little bit too. "Shelby?"
“Hmm?” he hummed.
"If your mom's not dead then where is she?"
He cleared his throat. “Most of our women are trapped in Glatton. There is a magic that won't allow them to leave nor will it let anyone inside. I'm pretty sure she's there."
"And does she have magic?"
He looked up at her. “We really should get some rest."
“I'm not gonna be able to sleep and I'll just keep talking until I get answers so you might as well tell me."
Shelby dragged a hand down his face. "She has magic. We just tell people that the women don't have magic to protect them. That's how we've kept them from being enslaved. Though they are in a different kind of prison."
“They can’t get themselves out?” Her eyelids felt heavy, but not as heavy as the questions that weighed on her chest like a brick.
"No, their magic isn’t enough to break them out. That requires a lot of blood. Warlock blood."
Ace was quiet for a minute, long enough for Shelby to close his eyes. "I think we should go to the party tomorrow." His eyes flew open.
"Excuse me?"
"I think we should go to the next event. Only this time I think we should gather more information on the queen because obviously I wasn't very well prepared. And then we can make a plan for the next event and we can make an attempt to take her life. No. I don't even like to talk like that. Let's be more positive. We're going to kill the queen."
"And you are so sure?"
"Well, I'm not sure of anything, but what's the worst that could happen? I die? Like your grandma said, been there, done that."
Shelby let out a loud breath. "You are a very interesting creature."
"I'm not sure if you mean that in a nice way or not."
"And I have no interest in clarifying," Shelby said. "Is that enough questions for tonight?"
"Not hardly." But she was done asking questions, she just enjoyed teasing Shelby. Exhaustion from the day was wearing her down and tugging her toward her dreams. As Ace started to close her eyes all she could do was picture Sienna’s face as Ace ran from the ballroom. That eye contact.
There had been a glimmer of recognition, for the slightest second Queen Sienna had felt remorse. Or looked as though she did. Ace highly doubted it. These four queens, they were heartless. And Ace wanted to show them exactly what betrayal felt like. She wanted them to hurt the way she had been hurt. She wanted balance and she wanted peace. Even if Shelby suddenly decided not to help her, Ace would find a way to take down the queens.
No matter how bloody.
No matter how conflicted she felt.
Ace
This was bad. This was very bad. One day without us and look where she's at.
Farther than she was yesterday.
The man knows. He knows.
I know he knows!
Ace groaned as she cracked her eyes open. Above her was the spider web covered ceiling that belonged to Shelby's grandmother. The witch! That's right. Her thoughts came to her sluggishly between the rumblings of the gods themselves. She turned her head and looked down at the floor where Shelby had been last night.
The floor was empty. The blankets gone.
Great. She's awake! Good morning sunshine, how can you live with yourself knowing you've messed up so royally? Greshta practically sang.
Give her a moment to wake up. Ease her into it. Fareesh, the god of health, scolded the goddess of power.
She hasn't messed anything up, Sylik said, probably more to get under Greshta's skin than to make Ace feel better. Was she supposed to be in a stranger's cabin with a warlock she basically stole from the queen? No. Not at all.
The man knows, Greshta snapped back.
I did a lot of meddling to help the warlock see the good in that plan, Ramdon’s dark voice confirmed.
Knowing that Ramdon had played his part to get Shelby to help her, made Ace’s stomach knot up. She’d been foolish to think it had been entirely by his own will. Well…his will and that butcher knife.
The queen knows. Greshta tried to emphasize.
The queen knows. Three words that made Ace want to roll to the edge of the couch and vomit all over these clean floors. What does the queen know? How does she know? Fabric bunched in her fisted hands.
Ace lay perfectly still, letting her eyes unfocus as she lay there and tried to listen. Concentrating on anything other than her endless mistakes was proving more difficult by the second.
The queen recognized you. Your only saving grace was that she is certain there is no way it could be true. She thinks she might be going crazy, Greshta confirmed. What made you think linking up with one of the queen's pets was a good idea? The two of you caused the biggest scene since King Rome was killed and his sons were kicked out of the borders of Pasia.
Ramdon laughed, the noise sounding almost like thunder inside Ace’s head, but he didn't say a thing.
He would think this was funny.
What exactly was she supposed to do? They hadn't given her much of a plan. If Ace had done what they wanted there would have been a real attempt at the queen's life last night. Ace—for her own conscience, not that the queens bother to listen to theirs—needed to feel the same sort of wrath the gods did before she killed the queens. Not to mention the then empty throne.
No thank you. It was overwhelming to even think about.
So Ace was taking it slow. To say the least. The queens would get what was coming to them but on Ace's timeline. She'd lived on everyone else's timeline, but now Ace had no connections to the living world, not really, so she got away with a lot more. As much as the gods acted as if she had no control, they'd even said it themselves that in the land of the living she had her own free will.
Ace you can't ignore us. You got your quiet day, Greshta pushed.
Mostly quiet, Bedesh said, his voice a soft whisper that still somehow made Ace think he was smiling. Bedesh thought Ace was lucky that some god had taken pity on her and broke their pact of silence.
"Oh, shut up!" She sat up on the couch, slapping her palm against her forehead repeatedly.
Shelby looked up from where he sat at the kitchen table, a journal held open before him. "What?"
"Not you." She pointed to her head. "Them."
"Them?" He sat up a little straighter, no doubt thinking the girl had officially lost her mind.
Ace gave the room a once over looking for his grandma and finding the cranky old woman nowhere in sight. She swallowed down the weird bubble of nervousness that thought gave her.
"The gods," she explained. "Where is your grandma?"
"Out. She needed to tend to her garden. I didn't stop her…are the gods talking to you? Right now?"
"More like all of the time. They never shut up."
That's actually pretty rude of you to say, Sylik snorted.
If she'd been alone in her apartment, she would have flipped her middle finger up toward the sky. Shelby would probably hate that.
"What are you doing?" She pulled the blanket off, fresh air meeting her exposed skin.
Shelby's eyes fell to her chest before his cheeks heated and he looked back down at his book. He hooked a finger under what looked like a blank page before he cleared his throat. "Grimoire." He gave a good cough. "I'm making your grimoire."
So, he didn't choose to stay. The first person she let in and he was choosing to give her a grimoire and run. She supposed that made sense since she had helped make him one of the most wanted people in Maipeg. She’d run from her too.
"Oh good!" Ace stood from the couch, making her way to the fireplace. With the sun already up and the day heating outside the fire had died out and had not been rekindled. Maipeg was like that, hot by day with an overbearing sun, then chilled enough at night to require some sort of jacket.
Her tank top was folded on the mantle, no longer laid out as it once had been. Pinching the thin material in her hands she lifted the shirt and gave it a once over. The black looked blacker. There wasn't any dirt or holes made from the material snagging on trees. Wait—was this her tank top?
She brought the material up to her nose catching a strong scent of lavender. That certainly hadn't smelled like anything other than body odor and sweat yesterday.
"Uh, is this mine?" She held it up to her body, covering her bra as she turned to face Shelby.
"Yes. Grandma said she couldn't allow her guests to have dirty laundry so she went ahead and cleaned it. I tried to tell her to leave the holes because they seemed to match your overall ‘crawled-from-the-grave look’ but she insisted."
Well, at least her look was accurate.
"That was nice of her. Could she zap my pants clean too?"
Shelby stared down at the book. Is that all it took to make a grimoire? He shook his head, still avoiding looking her way as she slipped her head into the tank top, sniffed the fabric a couple of times, and slipped into her pants. Smoothing her hands through her hair she tried to untangle the knot that had formed at the back of her head from sleeping on her back before she pulled out the chair in front of Shelby and sat herself down.
"The next event is this afternoon."
"I know." He kept staring down at the empty book.
"We should leave soon."
"Here is a funny idea." He finally glanced up and locked his hazel eyes on Ace. "What if I give you a couple spells and you go alone? I think one close encounter with death this week was enough for me."
"You're going," Ace said at the same time his grandma said, "I don't much like the girl but you can't make her go alone."
Perhaps she and his grandma had more in common than Ace and Shelby.
The old woman was silent as a fox. The front door was closed behind her and she held a large basket in front of her piled high with vegetables. Her steps remained quiet as she strolled up to the table where Shelby and Ace sat. She leveled her grandson with one and he stared back at her, expressionless.
"You got into this mess together now you'll get out of this mess together. If she's the key to somehow freeing all those poor enslaved men then protect her. Do you hear me, Shelby Stroud?"
With as tall as Shelby was and how short his grandmother was, she stood there looking him directly in the eye. She didn't need to crouch or stand on her tiptoes.
“I am helping her, Grandma. I'm getting her a grimoire. She's not going to be without magic."
“I need you to put some really good spells in there for me,” Ace reminded him. “Like I need something that could give me a weapon at a moment’s notice. Or some of that really crazy dark stuff. Like I say someone's name the wrong way and all of a sudden they start bleeding out their eyes and go blind. Now that sounds useful.”
His grandmother still scowled as she turned her gaze from the warlock to Ace. "Do not tell my grandson to be working with dark magic. Dark magic will only darken his soul. And I fear working for the queen has done that enough.”
“If you're worried about anyone it should probably be her.”
Even though Ace knew that it was childish of her she stuck her tongue out at Shelby.
"Don't put all your energy into making those spells,” his grandma warned him. “You'll need your energy for this evening.”
Shelby sat back in his chair propping an arm on the back. "If I don't get this grimoire done then I'm stuck with her. I need to find her some other poor soul to torture or complete this book." Ace nodded along because he was correct, she would continue to hover around him until one or both of those things happened.
"Shelby, whether you like it or not, you two have already chosen each other. "
“I didn't exactly choose him. More like we just keep bumping into each other," Ace tried to clarify. Not that she needed to defend Shelby.
“Then the gods put you two together."
I did not put you two together. Mina? Greshta called out to the goddess of love.
That particular goddess had never been very involved in Ace’s life seeing as she was trying to avoid people altogether. So she didn't ever hear from Mina unless it was for her to help two strangers meet in the market or something. It was more fun than anything because more often than not Ace chose to stick out her foot or she would bump into them almost violently to shove them into the arms of the person they were meant to meet. Mina remained quiet.
"Oh, I don't think the gods had much to do with this one." Ace waved her hand trying to dismiss the very idea.
"Then you know little of the gods," his grandma hissed.
If only she knew.
"I’m going, okay? I will go tonight but I'm still going to get this grimoire done and then she and I are splitting up." He smoothed out the empty pages of the journal.
“And what are you going to do, Shelby?" the old woman settled her hands on her hips.
“Huh?”
Ace smiled, settling into her seat. Oh, this is getting good, she thought. She swore Shelby’s ears tinted crimson.
“Are you going to stay here with me in this cabin? Forever? This life is not for you. You will get bored and you will seek company. One too many people already know about this cabin." She looked in the direction of Ace for that last part.
"I could go to the witches. I can try to free them."
His grandmother laughed. Like really laughed. She grabbed the back of his chair and tilted back, her head pointing up toward the sky as she cackled, her whole body shaking with the noise. "You will do no such thing! What are you going to do? Are you going to spill all of your life's blood on the land and hope that it is enough. It is not. I can guarantee that. It’s suicide!"
Shelby let out half a breath and pressed his palms to the book. "Can we talk about this later? I just need to concentrate."
"Concentrate, concentrate…” She mocked him. “That is how I know you were not raised by the witches. You should not need to concentrate."
Ace chewed on her lip enjoying the free show she was getting and watched as Shelby tipped his chin down, peering at his grandma from under his eyelashes. His grandmother only smirked, held the basket a little tighter before she plucked a vegetable from the basket and extended her arm toward Ace.
"Cucumber?”
“Oh, no, thank you."
“Take the cucumber." The grandmother shoved the cucumber into Ace’s hand before she turned and headed into the kitchen.
"Are these magically grown?" Ace asked.
His grandma laughed. "They’re grown with my blood, sweat, and tears. Some would call that magic, others would not."
She looked down at the cucumber and examined it. In the small bit of quiet Shelby's palms began to glow. The blue hue of his magic shone against the paper and cast across the table. Ace tried to ignore it as the man worked. The longer she stared at the table the brighter an image became in her mind. She could taste the potent sour that filled the air every time magic was used or a spell was cast. She tried to concentrate on the picture and the image that was in her head started to form into something long and then pointed, something…metal. A sword?
Her brows knitted as she tried to understand what the gods were trying to tell her. But the gods—all of them—had their own distinct voice and tone. Ace could also always sense who was speaking to her. Well, this time she didn't recognize exactly what this was or who it was from. As the image grew clearer and clearer, her eyes snapped up to Shelby.
The blue glow slowly faded from his hands, as he took a deep breath and looked up at her. "What? Why are you always looking at me with some absurd expression? Can I help you? More than I already am?"
"Did you…was that… "
"Spit it out, girl!" the grandma shouted from the counter.
"Was that spell for a sword?"
"You said you wanted spells with access to weapons."
"No, no, no. Was this a long sword? Were you picturing the metal gleaming in the sun, and the handle made from twisted iron with a black gem on the hilt?" Shelby's mouth parted but he didn't respond. "How are you in my head? How did I know? How did I see the spell?"
"I don't know. Could you see the spell I did when we were in the cave?"
"The girl knows about the cave? Why don't you just tell her all of our secrets, Shelby?!"
