Quinn drains his goblet and slams it on the table behind us. “You had a reason for your anger.”
Without acknowledging Quinn’s remark, I keep my gaze trained on Rapunzel. She is radiant in Dax’s arms—even when her feet tangle around themselves and she stumbles. For someone with such natural grace, our lady is inept at dancing. It’s humorous to watch, and I catch myself outright laughing when Dax has to save her from herself many times.
“My anger was misguided,” I admit with a shrug.
“Obviously all is forgiven,” Quinn drawls.
“Obviously.”
Quinn turns his back on the hall to refill his goblet. He presses one hand on the table, bracing himself, and angles his head to look at me. His black eyes remind me of an old, forgotten grave. “I worry about her, Wren. I don’t like worrying about anyone. It feels… I don’t fucking like it. And I sure as fuck don’t want her at court alone.”
His tension mirrors my own. Last thing I want is Rapunzel alone and vulnerable, but as much as I hate to admit it, her plan is sound. She’s the one person who can get inside Newkirk without rousing suspicion. Once within the castle, she has the best chance of finding us a way in as well. Even if it’s just Quinn. That’s enough to kill John and end that bastard’s barbaric reign.
“John is an ass.” But unfortunately, the man is no fool. “He’ll want her compliant. If, for nothing else, the optics of it when he presents her at court. And hewillmake a grand show of presenting his long-lost daughter to his courtiers. He’ll have to, Quinn. Too many people know he’s tearing Rygard apart, searching for her. He can’t risk harming even one hair on her lovely head.”
My reasoning eases some of that tension in Quinn’s shoulders. He knows I’m right. My father may have been John’s closest friend, but Quinn’s family—the Redgraves—were one step down from royalty. He was practically raised at Newkirk. If anyone knows John, he does. He understands John, although mad, is a controlled rage. He’s ruthless, not reckless. As long as Rapunzel…behaves…she’ll be safe.
But not indefinitely.
Eventually, he’ll demand the use of her hair.
The plan is to kill him long before that happens.
Quinn spins back around to watch Rapunzel as she dances her way closer to us. A sneer curls his upper lip. “Too much can go wrong.”
I wholeheartedly agree. And if there was any other way to get one of us inside Newkirk, I’d remove Rapunzel from this plan. But we’ve gone at this from all angles, and she can do what we can’t. Quinn is, understandably, thinking with his heart and not his mind. With his younger sister, Eleanor, John’s wife, I can’t imagine her misery—and the added burden on Quinn’s shoulders.
“We need to trust her, Quinn. As much as I hate this, she’s the only one who can get us inside that fucking fortress.”
Without taking his gaze off Rapunzel and Dax, Quinn clenches his jaw. His nod is slow, angry. “My sister… How much of her did that prick destroy?”
I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “If she’s anything like you, John took nothing from her. Not one goddamn thing.”
Quinn slides his black gaze my way, and in their dark depths I read his intentions like a book.
Vengeance.
Torment.
Murder.
“His death must be slow. Painful.” His words are low and menacing. “I want him to hurt so badly, he’ll take that pain with him to Hell.”
“What you need to do is spend this time planning where you’re going to display the bastard’s heart after you rip it out of his chest.”
Because one of the ‘gifts’ that came with Quinn’s curse is the power to send a soul to Hell by…removing…their heart with his bare hands. True, it saps his strength and leaves him weak and vulnerable for days, but with someone like John, it’s well worth the sacrifice.
Right then, Rapunzel strolls over, pulling Dax behind her. “What are you both conspiring about?”
Although it takes great effort, I resist the urge to kiss her pretty mouth. “Conspiring? Us? Nothing, my love.”
She drops Dax’s hand and wags a finger at me. “I know when you’re up to something, Wren Kincaid.”
“Do you?” I lift a single brow. “And how’s that?”
“You’re breathing,” she quips with averyunladylike—but extremely adorable—snort.
Dax jerks his head at Emma. “You’ve been around that one too long.”
