“For training?” His tone made the question sound like an accusation.
“Forhoning,” I corrected. “All that raw potential shouldn’t go to waste under the guidance of parents who don’t understand what she is.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” His voice had dropped, a warning hidden in its depths. “I hear her new parents aren’t to be trifled with.”
“You know who they are?” I paused, turning to face him. That was information I hadn’t expected.
“Rumors fly like wildfire among rogues and lone wolves. And in case you’ve forgotten, that’s who I spend most of my day with.”
Interesting. My network of informants hadn’t brought me this piece of news yet. I made a mental note to rectify that oversight.
“Care to share what you’ve heard?” I asked.
“Only that they’re dangerous.” His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Hyper vigilant, too. Not the type you want to make enemies of unnecessarily.”
“Everyone is someone I can make an enemy of if it serves my needs,” I said dismissively. Still, his warning had planted a seed of curiosity. I would need to investigate further.
I looked out the window at the apple orchard that stretched across the eastern edge of the property. Jonathan had been quite proud of those trees, had nurtured them with his earth magic until they produced the sweetest fruit in three counties.
“Have the rogues raze the orchard,” I ordered.
“The apple trees?” His bushy eyebrows shot up.
“All of them. I need the space.”
“Most of the rogues aren’t what I’d call stable enough to trust with chainsaws and heavy equipment.”
“They need something to do besides training. And it will be useful. Once that area is cleared, it will provide the perfect space for the Hollowing Rite.”
“Thewhat?”
“You’ll see when the time comes.” I smiled at his confusion.
I hadn’t slipped, only tested. He knew nothing about the rite. Not surprising. Very,veryfew Dark witches knew that ritual, and I’d killed most of them.
“Just make sure it’s done by summer’s end, Foster.”
He studied me for a moment, as if trying to piece together my larger plan. He wouldn’t succeed; no one ever did. That was the beauty of my strategy, layers upon layers of misdirection.
“You’re planning an attack.”
“Obviously. But on whom? That’s the question everyone is asking themselves, isn’t it?” I allowed my lips to curve in a tiny smile of satisfaction. “The werewolves think I’m targeting the vampires. The vampires assume I’m going after the werewolves. The fae believe my sights are set on the Ice Cloud Kingdom, while the Frost Folk are convinced I’m planning to strike the Woodland Realm. Let themwonder. Let doubt and suspicion weaken their alliances and mire their defenses.”
“They’re all allied with each other. You only have a fragile truce with the vampire king.”
“Alliances can be broken. Especially when fear enters the equation. None of them will stand against me in the end.” I looked directly into his eyes. “Just like Serafina and her Cimmerian lovers.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer than most would dare before nodding once and turning to leave, the envelope tucked under his arm.
“Make sure that package reaches its destination this time,” I called after him.
He paused in the doorway, but didn’t turn around.
“Sure.”
I watched him go, wondering not for the first time where his true loyalties lay. Not with me, certainly; I wasn’t fool enough to believe that. But I doubted his allegiance to the Cimmerians ran as deep as they might hope, either. Foster Collins was a survivor, above all else. A lone wolf in more ways than one.
It didn’t matter. By the time my plans came to fruition, allegiances would be irrelevant. Power would be the only currency that mattered, and I intended to be the wealthiest woman in all the supernatural realms.
