At least there wasn’t anything wrong with my body. I had never been brave enough to see a doctor about that night. Scion doctors were cold and unforgiving on such matters.

Something occurred to me. “If voyant minds are like oil”—I weighed my words—“what are your minds like?”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure he was going to reply. Finally, in a thick, velvet undertone, he said one word.

“Fire.”

That single word sent a tremor through my skin. I thought of what oil and fire did together: exploded.

No. I couldn’t think about him like that. He wasn’t human. Whether or not he understood me was irrelevant. He was still my keeper. He was still a Rephaite. He was everything he’d been at the beginning.

Warden turned to face me. “Paige,” he said, “there was another memory. Before you passed out.”

“What memory?”

“Blood. A great deal of it.”

I shook my head, too tired to think about it. “Probably when my clairvoyance came out. The poltergeist had a lot of blood in her memories.”

“No. I have seen that memory. There was far more blood in this one. All around you, choking you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And I didn’t. I really didn’t.

Warden regarded me for a while.

“Sleep a little longer,” he finally said. “When you wake up tomorrow, put your mind to better things.”

“Like what?”

“Like escaping from this city. When the time comes, you must be ready.”

“So you’re going to help me.” When he didn’t answer, I lost my patience. “I’ve shown you everything of mine—my life, my memories. I still have no idea what your motives are. What do you want?”

“While Nashira has us both under her thumb, it is best that you know as little as possible. That way, if she interrogates you again, you can safely say that you have no knowledge of the matter.”

“What ‘matter’?”

“You are very persistent.”

“Why do you think I’m still alive?”

“Because you are inured to danger.” He clasped his hands on his knees. “I cannot tell you about my motives, but I will tell you a little about the red flower, if you wish.”

The offer took me by surprise. “Go on.”

“Do you know the story of Adonis?”

“They don’t teach the classics in Scion schools.”

“Of course. Forgive me.”

“Wait.” I thought of Jax’s stolen books. Jax loved mythology. He called it deliciously illicit. “Was he a god?”

“The beloved of Aphrodite. He was a youthful, beautiful, mortal hunter. Aphrodite was so taken with his beauty, she preferred his company even to that of the other gods. Legend tells that her paramour, the war god Ares, grew so jealous of the pair that he turned himself into a boar and slaughtered Adonis. He died in Aphrodite’s arms, and his blood stained the earth.