Page 120 of The Faceless Queen

“Come closer,” I teased. “I heard you were looking for me. Heard you’ve been looking for a long, long time.”

“What?” he asked. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Stay close to me,” he ordered his men.

I took another step, and then, thinking of the way Erys’s wings glowed, I added a glow to my skin, lighting myself up in the dark. After all, if I was going to scare them with my appearance, they had to see me.

Jaron’s eyes widened at once, and all six men with him, soldiers I’d seen in the tourney fighting for House Bathiner, froze. I recognized their faces from the jousts and balls and took them in one by one.

But my focus remained on Jaron.

“Alyra.” He sneered, his lip curling.

I laughed. “Is that all you have to say to me? After all the time spent looking for me? Looking in all the wrong places.” I licked my lips. “How does your bottom lip feel? The scar tissue you carry? Still hurt?”

His nostrils flared. “I fucking knew it,” he said, taking a step forward. “You are demonos. Azete.”

I stretched my arms over my head and took a long, deep breath. “I am,” I purred.

“Jaron,” one of his men whined. His name was Stephen. He was around our age, no older than his late twenties, but already he was completely bald. He stared back at me with rat-like eyes.

“Shut up,” Jaron hissed.

“Yes,” I said. “Shut up,” I mimicked his voice perfectly. Then I narrowed my brows, my hands on my hips. “You’re interrupting our reunion, Stephen.”

Stephen paled, stepping back.

“What do you want?” Jaron asked.

“What do I want?” I mocked. “I don’t know.” I tapped my chin. “But I think I want justice for Cecelia.”

“Justice? For what? Paying a whore to do her fucking job?”

“For raping her,” I shouted. And that was it. Something unleashed inside me. I rose onto my toes, and fangs protruded from my lips. My fingers extended into claws, and I floated into the air.

“Fuck!” One soldier ran. And then another followed, both who’d lost early in the tourney.

“Get the fuck down,” Jaron yelled. “Stop it!”

“Come on, Jaron, you know you like it,” I teased, and then I flung myself at him.

He screamed, his entire body smelling of fear. It was pouring from him, rushing out of every pore. I felt like I’d been plunged into cool waters on a hot day, like I’d woken from a long, restful sleep, like the first full-body stretch I took before a night of dancing. I was feeding, swallowing, devouring, taking more and more. I was more alert, more energized than I’d been in days. Since I’d spent the night with Brennan. But I was nowhere near full.

My body collided with his, and he fell backward, smacking his head on the ground as I dug my claws into his neck, keeping him down, my legs straddling his chest.

“I will kill you,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

He laughed, the sound nervous and forced. “But not tonight?”

Another man got up and ran, one I’d danced with at the engagement ball. Then only three remained. Stephen and two more men who had just pissed themselves. Erick and Donovan. All House Bathiner, all spending their time between melees at the Bathiner pavilion. And all three were feeding the Azete.

I hissed at them, sharpening my teeth to fangs, drinking even more before turning my ire back on Jaron, who was still beneath me.

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe I just want you to feel some … anticipation.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No. You aren’t going to kill me.” He shook his head. “You would have by now. You were just as capable of tracking me. But you didn’t. Why? Why wait? You have me at your mercy. Do you need more time?” he hissed. “Or maybe … are you off to save someone? Someone else named Jaron?”

The feeling of his energy began to slow. He knew. He knew who I was, knew I was going after Brennan. Knew I didn’t have time to kill him.

But I had time to hurt him. With one thought, I enlarged my fist and punched him in the face.