His gaze leveled on her afterward, and it confirmed what she’d been certain of. It was the same sort of death as those previous. And she’d no doubt he planned for her to fix it. His eyes slid from her to Corvin. A discreet nod was all the man at her side offered. Then Silas grabbed Mistress Farrentail by her feathered head and pierced her neck in turn.
Everyone screamed.
Even Lux cried out.
She drew her dagger from where she’d buried it in her bodice, ripping the tied cloth from its end. And the society was moving. Lux could pick out each member from the unnatural shine of their eyes.
“It has come to our attention,” said Corvin, his voice rising above the din, “traitors have infiltrated this celebration. Traitors who have been systematically murdering Mothlock’s goodinvestors for the purpose of sabotaging our sacred purpose.” He held up a feather smaller than even the yellow one hidden within Lux’s hair.
It twirled between his fingers. “A unique choice, the redwren. But hardly one we wouldn’t discover. The society’s mastery islimitless, after all.”
Several more screams were drawn as Silas dispatched another. Lux’s breaths grew shallow.The plan—
“Corvin,” she hissed from the brink of panic. “You cannot—”
“Shh,” he soothed. Reaching around her head, he plucked the feather from her scalp. Lux sucked a pained breath, and he said, “Do you think I’m blind to deceit? You may have become accustomed to idiocy in Ghadra, but I am not your demented mayor. I am the Overlord of Mothlock. I read, Necromancer.I readeverything.”
His hand returned to her neck, squeezing tight, and Lux only managed to swipe once with her dagger before Corvin’s fingers encircled her wrist in a crushing grip. She cried out.
The screams around her were louder.
“From sleepless nights and dire days, I call upon your fears.”
Lux balked at Corvin’s sudden incantation; she thrashed in his hold. The plate clattered. Her serving of lifeblood tipped and spilt. The liquid found no grooves in the oiled surface and pooled like the loveliest silver paint.
Corvin only bent nearer like she’d done nothing at all. His lips brushed her neck. “Unbury your nightmares. Unmask what comes. Chaos divine, let this torture unwind.”
The apparition returned from the void. Dripping. Insidious. Baring its teeth. It crouched upon the table. Flame-ridden candelabras licked at its unreal skin.
Lux couldfeelhis smile.
“Do not let her go.”
Chapter forty-eight
Corvinscreamed.Shehadnever heard him scream before tonight.
When the knife pulled free from his side, he slouched, his hands pressing to the wound. Then he fell to his knees.
Shaw drew back Corvin’s head, poised to strike again and end his life, when he hesitated. His eyes found hers. And before Lux could grant or deny the permission he clearly sought, he cried out.
The blade retracted from Corvin’s throat when Shaw’s opposite hand flung to his shoulder. To the star-shaped bit of glinting metal embedded in his jacket. He bared his teeth and yanked it free.
“Shaw!Duck.”
A second flew through the air and burrowed into the wood behind him. Shaw ran to her. Lux grasped his arm when he reached, his longer stride propelling her up the staircase—
“He will die soon. We can feel it.”
The apparition scuttled along the banister—a moldering mimic of her. And Lux had no sooner shoved herself away from it when Kent moved into view at the topmost stair.
“The Harvest will not be postponed,” he said, a heartbeat before he dodged Shaw’s violent swing.
The collector’s large fist met Shaw’s temple in a sickening crack Lux felt in her soul. He slumped to a heap on the steps and did not move again. “No!” she shrieked, but as she lunged, Kent’s hand enclosed around her throat, hauling her backward.
“I know you did it,” he hissed, when she was pressed against him and unable to move. “I know you revived her. Where has she gone?”
“I don’t—” Her lungs squeezed, unable to draw breath. Lux dug her nails into his arm, but found it was not tight against her neck. Panic. She was panicking.
