Twelve: A False Dawn

Ember and Chains

Reine grunted as she shifted, the metal cuffs biting cold against her wrists. Kael lounged across from her, watching with an expression that was part amusement, part appetite. He seemed to enjoy the power in the room; Reine felt a fizzing disgust curl through her. She was still a minor. He was, by all accounts, family. The thought made bile rise in her throat.

She met his gaze with a look sharp enough to cut. If she could, she wanted to tell him to crawl into a hole and stay there. Her tails twitched under her coat; even a small movement could spark an illusion and distract him long enough to act. She forced herself to breathe slow, controlled.

"You're very pretty," Kael said, voice oily as he tipped an invisible hat.

"Thanks," Reine replied, steely. "But you're my uncle. So no."

His smile faltered, curiosity replacing arrogance. "I'm not...?"

"It's not rocket science." She leaned forward, tone cool. "Our eyes are similar. Liam was my father, your brother, wasn't he? You're a kelpie. I can smell it."

"How-" Kael stammered, then stopped. He'd never been accused of being obvious. His composure cracked for a second.

"My mom," Reine said simply, letting the comment sit there like a knife.

Kael blinked twice, nonplussed. "You never met your mother?" he asked, a sneer of disbelief in his voice.

Reine laughed then, short, hard. "No, I'm schizophrenic," she said with a smirk, flipping her head back as if the whole thing were a joke.

Kael's confusion turned to irritation as he glowered. While his attention drifted, Reine's fingers went to the chains at the base of her tails. She'd felt them the whole time, small, clinking annoyances. With slow, careful movements she worked the links until a pin slipped free. She eased the chain down her tail, making sure the metal didn't clatter.

A faint smell of burning drifted in the air, then a lick of flame flared behind her, reflected in the neon haze. Reine didn't look startled; she allowed the scent and warmth to fill her memory instead, and Kael noticed. He moved closer, drawn like a moth, fixating on the motion of her tails.

"Unlock the chains," Reine said, voice low and dangerous.

Kael's hand hovered, then reached for the keys. He fumbled them, distracted by the way the light caught her tails and the citrus-rose scent clinging to her. He clicked the lock free with a smooth, practiced motion and pushed the cuffs open.

The moment the chain fell away, Reine's illusion snapped. The small flare vanished as if someone had snuffed a candle; the room's harsh lights returned and the scent of smoke faded. Reine rose fluid and calm. Kael moved to gather the fallen metal.

Instead of letting him, Reine lashed out, her palm connecting with his cheek in a hard, precise slap. The sound echoed in the gambling hall like a gunshot.

"You listen to me," she hissed, leaning in so that only he could hear. "You do not go after me or my friends, or I kill you, then I take your uninterested girlfriend somewhere quiet where she never has to see you again."

Kael's face flushed red with fury. "Not happ-"

She struck him again, harder. The second slap was worse than the first, filled with all the anger she'd swallowed. He staggered, pulling a hand to his cheek.

"Do it," Reine snapped. "Or even worse, I keep you alive and I'll make you watch everything you care about rot." Her voice was flat as a blade.

For a long second, Kael glared. He looked at the men around him, loyal enforcers with faces like stone, then back at Reine. The corner of his mouth twisted into an ugly smile. "Fine. Since your dumb friends beat me at poker, and this was their wish, I guess it's fair... for now."

Reine clenched her jaw and let go of him with a small, satisfied click. The tension in the room shifted, his control tugged, temporarily, into neutral.

"Good. Agreement done." She turned to the exit, shoulders relaxed as if she were simply stretching.

Reine moved like someone who'd practiced leaving a room a thousand times. Her steps were measured, quiet against the worn floor. Kael watched her go, rage and something unnameable simmering behind his eyes. She paused at the threshold, glanced back once with all the contempt she could muster, and skipped, impossibly light, right out into the rain and neon night.

The guards didn't move fast enough. Maybe they trusted Kael more than they feared him. Maybe they were slow to expect a child to fight back. Either way, she slipped past, ducked between two shuttered booths, and pushed through an emergency door into the alley.

Cold rain hit her face like tiny knives. For a moment she let the water wash the taste of the room from her mouth. Her legs trembled, but she forced them steady. Reine kept moving, down alleyways, across slick cobblestones, and under the cover of a broken awning until she was a shadow again.

Behind her, Kael muttered into the press of the gambling hall. "She doesn't know what's coming," he said, more to himself than anyone else, equal parts threat and prophecy.

Reine didn't look back. The night swallowed the building whole as she ran, and the smell of citrus and cherry blossoms clung to her like a promise.