I was so oblivious and stupid. Everard’s whole life revolved around Selva, and I had told him the civil war was coming and Rellas would go to shit. He would do anything and everything to control me because I was the key to his survival. A woman who knew his rivals’ secrets. A priceless gift. He must’ve been overjoyed when I sat on that bench in the cemetery and stared at him like a lovesick fool.
We cleared the stairs and burst into the upper hallway. The kids ran to the right, past me. I lingered until I saw them disappear into Clover’s room, and then I ducked into my suite. I would lock the door and—
Solentine leaped onto my windowsill. I had left the fucking window open again. Damn it.
“Don’t move,” Solentine ordered.
A low growl came from my bedroom. The stelka emerged from under my bed, her little fangs bared.
“Guard vermin. Charming,” Solentine said.
Quiet steps came from the hallway.
He was coming. There was no escape.
Everard walked through the open door.
Nothing of Reynald remained. This was the demon from the basement. Before, even during the fights, he had dampened himself somehow. He wasn’t hiding anymore.
He walked in, and the room was his. He owned it. His presence filled it, unignorable, a sharp, immediate threat that demanded you focus on it to the exclusion of everything else. There was no predator to compare him to. He was in a class of his own.
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw a cold, calculating intelligence looking back. If I’d had any emotional capacity left, it would have scared me more than Solentine and his daggers, more than the Fatefire or the Butcher, but I was too shocked and numb. The enormity of the betrayal had knocked all the fear out of me.
The stelka dashed under the bed and stayed there.
“Are you hurt?” the Sleepless Duke asked me.
Somehow, I made my mouth work. “No.”
“A pity,” Solentine murmured.
Everard ignored him. His voice was slow and measured. “What happened to staying inside the building? Did you misunderstand? Were my instructions vague or confusing?”
How had he hidden this? How in the world did he manage to tone himself down to pretend to be Reynald?
He was waiting for me to answer.
“He was about to disappear or hurt Lute,” I said.
Everard fixed me with his stare. “Morr beads are calibrated to a specific weight. Do you know what happens when you add another human to that weight?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. The magic could’ve cut you to pieces and strewn them between that plaza and his destination.”
“Lute—”
“Is a trained killer. You’re not.”
“Can we get back to what’s important?” The head of the Shears slid his daggers back into their sheaths and sat on the windowsill.
“Nineteen days ago you left the safehouse in the morning ‘to think’ and disappeared. The two human-shaped statues you brought with you refused to tell me where you had gone.”
Solentine’s tone was even and deliberate.
“We have a partnership. I’ve committed resources and people to our shared cause. And for reasons that right now escape me, I’m personally invested in your survival and continued well-being.”
Oh he was pissed. Solentine didn’t run hot when he was mad. He got chillingly cold.
