Page 16 of The Bonds of Indigo

“All of the ones I knew of are dead.”

“That’s extremely unlikely.” I don’t believe her for a fucking second. “How about you tell me the name of the last one you knew?”

“Don’t know it…”

“Then you didn’t know them.”

“But I did.”

I release a laugh that’s not built out of humor. “Fucking liar. Stating you know someone, but don’t know their name is⁠—”

“I understand my kind is a dying race, but don’t you know the one key thing about us?”

Through gritted teeth, I say slowly, “Enlighten me.”

“We don’t speak our names aloud.” I glance down at a piece of paper on the table. “Our names are sealed into our palms at birth, and we are unable to utter them with our voice. If a Witch wishes to write it down and give it to someone, that is their right.”

“That’s fucking stupid.” My irritation is written heavily in my tone.

“Says you.”

“Says everyone with a brain. Why wouldn’t you…” I trail off.

Of course. To keep themselves hidden. Honestly, that’s pretty smart.

“What’s the significance of knowing your name?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

She adjusts herself, probably to get more comfortable. Her feet slide across the floor, and I lean slightly to look down. Her legs are spread wide under the table, the gown she’s wearing pulled tight around her.

“Why you’re looking for Yldarwright in the first place.”

“It’s not relevant for you to know that.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, and then leans forward. As her chest hits the table, she bends just enough to bring our faces a few inches from one another. When she’s this close, I can see a light coming through on the other side of her eyelids. Her veins are illuminated with a subtle hue of a color I can’t quite pinpoint; maybe… purple?

“No one looks for us with good intentions. Even if I knew where one was, I wouldn’t tell you. My kind has suffered enough.”

My nose twitches.

I’m a pretty chill person—few things get under my skin. She isn’t quite there, but this could set me back. I know Alaric wouldn’t have sent me here as a joke. He isn’t a funny guy like that. Which means this really is the only Yldarwright he knew about. So, she’s going to talk. Right here, right now. I’m getting to Lucifer one way or another, for at the very least, some damn closure.

I slowly shift my leg, settling my foot back onto the ground, and stand. “You aren’t really in a position to be this defiant.”

“I’m not being defiant. You asked a question, I answered it. I don’t know of one ali⁠—”

Her words cut off as my hand seizes her throat. I’m careful not to break her neck, but I’m nowhere near gentle. The action completely cuts off her oxygen and when she coughs, spit flies as she bares her pearly white teeth.

Interesting. She isn’t given anything but a mattress, has to stand, and by the feeling of her under my grip, can’t be given much food. Yet, her hygiene is a priority; brushed hair, clean mouth, and she smells of soap.

“Then you’ll give me your name, that way I can at least use it to find another one of your kind!”

Her body twitches, but to my surprise, she doesn’t try to pull away. Her eyes remain shut, though I can see them shifting behind her lids.

“Gonna need a pen, I guess,” I croon.