"Tremayne." She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "You look well."
Lord Tremayne slipped off his gloves, one finger at a time. He'd aged since the last time she'd seen him, but those dark eyes were just as hard, and the smile on his fleshy lips was still unattractive. "Did you truly think that I would not have the estate warded? Granted, I cannot produce a ward these days strong enough to protect it or keep my enemies out, but I can certainly conjure one that tells me when little birds are slipping about, trying to go unnoticed."
Her gaze flickered to the men stalking nearer, then back to him. "You never used to own so much finesse."
"Yes, well. I have strong friends these days. They've been teaching me how to master myself."
"So I hear. I wouldn't have thought to call them 'friends,' however... After all, didn't the former duchess steal the Relics Infernal out from beneath your nose years ago when you thought yourself allies?" Eleanor began to slowly siphon little bits of energy, drawing in her will. Her heart pounded faster. Foolish to have come here alone...
Tremayne grunted. "Let us just say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"And you want what Drake has, more than you want vengeance against Morgana."
"I want what that bastard stole from me."
"And then...?" She had to keep stalling him until she had enough power.
"Then?"
"Oh, please. Let us not pretend that you have any altruistic or forgiving qualities, Tremayne. Does the former duchess know that she must watch her back once you've defeated Drake?"
His gaze flickered to the left, which was unusual. "Nonsense. My alliance with Morgana will never be at risk."
Nobody was fooling anybody here. Eleanor raised a hand, flaming balls of energy erupting to life within her palms at a single word and searing her eyes as her mage globes formed. "Well, let us not waste time. I've learned a few things too, Tremayne."
Hurling one of them, she cast wards into place with her other, and—
An enormous wave of energy sent her tumbling, head over heels, her forehead smashing into a tree. Her sorcery flickered out, and for a moment, the world was black. Then she blinked through it, seeing a pair of men step toward her... No, it was only one, but her vision... What had just happened? Surely Tremayne wasn't strong enough to evaporate her wards like that and fling a solid burst of power at her?
"Very good, Sebastian." Tremayne sounded like a proud tutor.
Sebastian? Her skin grew cold. This was the collared one, the man who Cleo had asked her to save, a man who had just used Expression.
The man in front of her slipped his dark hood back from his face, and Eleanor's jaw dropped.
"Drake?" She was seeing things. He looked too young, though the dark hair was the same, and his eyes too, and... No, no, his skin was darker than Drake's, and there was a faint cleft in his chin. The resemblance was uncanny, it was...
And then she knew.
All those years of grieving, the pain she saw in Drake's eyes every June when the anniversary of his son’s death grew near... The blood drained out of her face. That lying bitch.
"Afraid not, Eleanor." Tremayne stepped forward and dug a boot between her ribs.
She cried out, tumbling into the leaves. Movement swung out of the corner of her vision, and she wrenched her arms up to protect her face, but the next blow didn't land. Instead Tremayne gave a muffled 'umph.'
Eleanor looked up.
"She's down," the cold, hard voice sounded nothing like Drake. The stranger who wore his youthful face had a hand pressed flat against Tremayne's chest. "You don't need to kick her."
"Oh, boy, you know nothing." That dark smile turned toward her, and the gloating look in Tremayne's face turned her stomach. "She's already dead. But first... we need to find out exactly what she thinks she's doing here and how much the Prime knows."
Chapter Nineteen
'Trust is an ambiguous matter.' – Old proverb
* * *
"Tell me about the servants again." Lucien sank into the banked seat at the restaurant. He still didn't quite know what to make of his revelation that he was possibly sharing a table with the thief, only that he needed to know more.
