“Oh, they were found, and I do know what you can do,” Vexx says. “But my plans were made so much easier because I also know your weakness, Un Drallag. The one thing you would sacrifice all of Tiressia for, strange as it is. You paint me and the prince as evil when, in truth, you are no better. At least we fight for more than one person. You would burn everything and everyone for Raina Bloodgood, wouldn’t you?”
Vexx’s cruel smile morphs into a grin that sparks fear inside me. A grin that says he’s been hard at work preparing for this very night—with Raina on his mind.
Heart hammering, I take a step toward him, the room beginning to crackle with my power. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I will torture you from here to eternity, so brutally that you will beg me to carve out your heart with my hands because that would be a kinder end. Don’t think I won’t commit to the task. I know how to persist.”
“Oh, I know you do,” he says, taking a casual sip of his liquor. “But I’m not going to touch her at all. I know who is, though. I hope you said your goodbyes properly.”
I lift my hand and draw bolts of blue power into my fingers. “You get one chance to correct the very poor decision to goad me.”
Vexx stands and meets my eyes, far braver than he has any right to be. “If you kill me, you lose your only chance of learning what happened to your beloved witch.” He reaches up and pets the raven’s wing, the black bird staring at me with cold, beady, watchful eyes. “Because thanks to my little friend, Crux, I’m the only one in this building who knows where she is right now, and I’ve a plan for where she’s going. If she lives through the night.” He lifts his glass. “Go on. Call to her. See if you can. Try to communicate with that mark you burned into her so selfishly. The prince notified me about that, by the way. You shared your power with that little wench, which could be quite handy if—” he holds up his finger “—she’s learned how to use it, and you’re accessible to her, which you are not tonight. Meaning she’s vulnerable, especially in the hands of a sorcerer assassin.”
I do try to reach her, internally admonishing myself for closing the bond, my breaths coming faster. I send a heartfelt plea through the rune, along our connection, asking her to please talk to me. Please.
There’s no answer.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and rage burns inside me, hot as the lightning I can command. I want to destroy Vexx. I want to feel his bones crush beneath the squeeze of my power. I’ve never hungered for the warmth of a man’s blood on my hands more than now. Never craved the feel of cold death as it consumes another’s life more than in this moment. But Vexx’s threat awakens me, makes me imagine a hundred ways I could kill him and still not be satisfied.
“Alexus,” Rhonin says, drawing my name out like a question, wanting to know what to do.
I raise my arm and whirl my hand in a wide arc, gathering all the power in the room into a blue eddy, before I fling it at the door, plastering the entry with a web of electricity I would like to see Rooke’s men try to come through.
With that same momentum, I sling ropes of power toward Rooke and Vexx, manacling their hands and ankles, and drag them from their chairs across the room.
The raven—Crux—squawks and flies straight for me, wings flapping wildly, but I pull a Raina Bloodgood and grab that bastard mid-air. I slam it against the wall where it thuds to the floor.
I stalk to Vexx and straddle him, bending down to fist a clump of his gray hair. “I don’t have to kill you. But I can make you wish you were dead. So if I were you, I’d start talking. Tell me where Raina is. Now.”
He laughs again. This time, it grows into a cackle, to a howling guffaw. Then it just dies, his eyes wild, his face cold. “She’s in trouble, that’s where she is. And this time, you can’t save her.”
35
RAINA
“I’m back, Gavril.”
Finn motions for Hel and me to enter his room at the Bitter Barrel. The man—Gavril—sits hunched in a chair, his feet boldly close to the fire as if to warm them as he chews a piece of bread.
Hel and I cross the threshold and stand in the center of the cramped, run-down space in our fine gowns. Muffled laughter and music from the tavern reverberate through the floor as I look over the room. Mari has certainly been here. I recognize items from Starworth Tor. A blue and white vase of flowers sitting on a small table near the balcony door, a stack of old books on the desk, a nice woven blanket folded on the bed, and a basket of grooming supplies. At least she’s taking care of him.
Gavril lifts his head and studies me with sparkling blue eyes before he shifts a glance at Hel. He doesn’t look as old as I expected, maybe only a few years older than Alexus—in frozen years. Early to mid-thirties.
I take quick inventory. He’s covered in a stained brown cloak and tattered, drab clothes, making him appear slovenly. But his black hair, though tousled, looks like it’s been trimmed recently, and his beard is shaved back to a short clip. When I skim a glance over his hands, they don’t match what I imagined either. They’re clean and strong, his fingernails neat.
There’s an incongruence that makes me wary, the picture of this man not quite coming together, though I seem to be the only one who notices. I take the small chair across from him, willing to hear what he has to say. Finn pulls up a stool beside me, and Hel sits at the foot of her brother’s bed, close to Gavril.
“This is who you wanted me to speak to?” The man’s words are shortened and sharpened by an accent that doesn’t sound like anyone from the Northlands.
“Not actually,” Finn says. “He wasn’t available. But these two are more knowledgeable than me about the matters that need to be discussed.”
Gavril stares at me, his gaze boring into mine before he flicks a glance and a finger at my thigh. “You wear a blade. Take it off.” He turns to Hel. “You too.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Hel says at the same time I instinctively sign, “Not a fucking chance.”
He arches a brow at me. “You don’t speak?”
“I speak just fine,” I sign again. “You just cannot read me.”
Hel translates with a little fire in her voice, and Gavril smiles, but his attention remains on me. “I read you better than you think. You want to know where General Vexx is.”
