You could almost forgive the others for thinking that everyone was okay. It was one man, and a glorified accountant at that. But that’s only if you don’t know who Adrian Heller really is—the self-proclaimed Kingmaker, and one of the most dangerous bastards I’ve ever had the fortune to know.
Without another word—but definitely another sigh—he reaches behind him and pulls out his Tomcat.
It’s instant. Knowing what a crackshot he is, it’s no surprise that he aims precisely before the herd mentality of the men gathered in the room can explode into a stampede. Gunshots explode, instead, as he puts a bullet in the chest of the two men surrounding my sides, holding me down.
Each of them jerks violently before collapsing; one on top of me, the other slumping to the floor. Knowing Adrian, they were killshots, or as good as, and he re-aims the gun before he puts a bullet into Matthew Greene’s skull.
My pocketknife falls to the floor a second before his body does.
As I shove one of the dying men off of me—it’s Clark, I recognize, a well-known bruiser with a shit reputation at the Court, so no loss there—Adrian addresses the five frozen men who acts as though they believe they’re his next target and, if they move, he’ll shoot again.
“Get out,” he says in a voice so cold, even I almost have chills. “You better hope that I don’t remember who was in this room and thought it was a good idea to kill the King on their own. Regicide? Really? In this economy?” He gestures with his gun toward the open door. “I saidnow.”
They scramble for the door before he can change his mind. Adrian watches them go, and I know damn well he’s cataloging each of their features, matching it up with some lurid detail in the ledges that he keeps, and decided who will be having an unfortunate accident next—or paying handsomely to the Order’s treasury for their attempted coup.
I straighten up. Adrian locks the door behind them with the unhurried air of an Owed member who knows that he won’t lose a wink of sleep—or any bit of his standing—after casually murdering three high-ranked members of the Order.
Wiping the blood spatter from my cheeks, my hands, my shirt, I watch as he assures himself that Matthew, Clark, and one of the old guard I can’t name at the moment are dead. When he does, she scoops up my pocketknife, handing it to me.
He arches an eyebrow. “You were going to let them cut you with your own knife?”
I shrug. “I was going to let them kill me.”
My poor cousin. He takes one look at me, sees the honesty in my face, and closes his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fucking hell, man. We gotta get you some help.”
Probably, but if I can’t have Lucy, I’m not too worried about it. Though, now that the suicidal urge has faded enough for me to feel a little bad for just laying there, waiting to die, I figure I should probably give her more than a couple hours of being missing before I give up entirely.
So, completely disregarding what I had almost done, I wave at the corpses and draw his attention to whatAdrianhas done.
“You know, the rest of the old guard is gonna be pissed. Their numbers are already dwindling. Now there’s three left. Don’t you think they might retaliate against you?”
“I’m not worried. I have a blood oath.”
“Yeah,” I point out. “With Loni.”
Adrian scoffs. “You forget, Dallas. We’re cousins. We’ve had a blood oath since we were born.”
I open my mouth. Close it.
He’s got a point there. Actually, he hasmorethan a point. A blood oath… in the Order, according the charter, if you swear an oath, pledge it in blood, sign it, and have it notarized by the King, it protects you from any and all repercussions in Harmony Heights as long as you’re using it to avenge or protect the person you’ve sworn to Claim.
Adrian has one with Loni. He signed it when he was eighteen, convincing Jack to notarize it, and used that to get out of any prospective trouble when he shot down Desmond after he tried to force Loni to marry him.
If I… if I have one with Lucy, then I can do whatever it takes to protect her. To save her. ToClaimher.
But, first, I have to find her. And with my cousin doing what he does best… cleaning up after the disasters I can’t stop making ever since I’ve become King… I decide that I will do every damn thing I can to stay alive long enough to at least convince her to give me athirdchance.
After that? I don’t know.
I… I don’t know.
At least, though, I’lltry.
TWENTY-TWO
KILLER
LUCY
