She smirks, her voice dropping until it's practically inaudible in the hushed murmurs that make up the atmosphere of this library. "Should I be shaking in my boots,telum?"
Well, then. The changeling obviously got too chatty with her.
I sit and fix her with my Nether-perfected thousand-yard stare. "You have two minutes to plead for your life. Call me that out loud again, and you'll be down to one."
Crypt's unseen presence moves closer to me, but I ignore it.
Harlow's brows bounce up. "Shit, they were right. Youcanbe scary when you're not pretending to be a little bitch. Smart move, by the way, blending in with the asscasters here. Wolf in sheep's clothing and all that."
"Don't pretend to care about your little support group. Your changeling put Monica in danger."
Harlow's face darkens, and she leans forward. "I didn't hire that fucking changeling. My parents did and told it to take my appearance while I was away for a day. And it only picked Monica because she approached it thinking it was me. She was an easy target—but in case you were wondering,Iwas the one who found her naked in a courtyard and got her to safety. So don't accuse me of not fucking caring because I?—"
"Spare me the altruistic posturing. Why did it take Kenzie?"
"My dad probably did that out of spite," she grumbles, folding her arms as she leans back again. She drops her voice down to barely a whisper again. "My parents have beef with Kenzie's parents, the Bairds. See, my parents and hers are both involved in this anti-legacy movement. Only, mine think legacies need to go back to you-know-where."
I arch a brow. "Your family are Remitters? That makes them idiots."
"You're telling me," she grumbles before scratching at her nose piercing. "Look. I know you probably want to kill me?—"
"Correction. You have thirty-nine seconds before I slit your throat without anyone noticing and leave you to rot." I slip a small knife from my sleeve and spin it on the table like I'm bored.
Harlow looks uncertain, for once, and then sighs. "The changeling told me what you are, and it's not hard to guess why you're here. But ask yourself, why haven't I told anyone else?"
"Blackmail, obviously."
"No. I want to seethem—" She nods vaguely toward Engela Zuma, still keeping her voice barely audible. "Dead. Gone. And I doubt there's anyone who can do that except you. So, if you want a reason to keep me alive, how about using me as an ally?"
I twirl the knife around my fingers as I examine her, considering that. She was obviously involved in the anti-legacy fearmongering before the Immortal Quintet got here. She comes from a twisted family background where they are woefully mistaken in thinking the Nether is the best place for legacies.
All of that is shit I don't want involved with.
But maybe I'll keep her alive for just a bit longer. If it was really her parents who hired the changeling and not her, then I guess I'll just have to kill them later to avenge Kenzie's memory loss.
"Bring me liquid bronze before midnight, and I'll consider you an ally."
She huffs, resting a hand on the table. "Liquid bronze? That shit's hard to find or make. Doesn't your blood fae prodigy boyfriend have some?"
I stab the knife into the table right between her index and middle finger, nicking the interdigital webbing on purpose. It makes her hiss in pain.
"So what if he does? That's not what I asked."
He doesn't. I know because I already asked him about it, but that's not the point here.
"Gods! Fine. I'll find some, you hard-ass," Harlow mutters, standing from the table and tucking her bleeding hand into one pocket. Then she smirks bitterly. "By the way, my family's been whispering about you showing up in the mortal world for as long as I can remember. I just hope you don't disappoint."
I smile sweetly. "I just hope you don't find any liquid bronze because I've missed playing with my adamantine dagger."
Harlow's eyes widen slightly, and she hurries out of the library. Crypt materializes beside me a moment later, one elbow resting on the table while he gazes at me dreamily.
"Have I mentioned I adore you? I could watch you bare your claws all day."
I tuck away the little knife and sigh. "I'm worried I've gone soft. I should probably just kill Harlow before she snitches. Was it a mistake to let her go?"
"She could've snitched up until now and didn't," the Nightmare Prince points out, shrugging one shoulder. "But if she does, we can torture her together."
He looks so excited at the prospect that I grin back at him.
