Knight’s brow furrowed. “Both?”
“Calliope,” Maxen ground out, “and the blackguard who plannedthis.”
Reaper let out a short, harsh laugh. “Your trap turned into a trap?”
“I think,” Maxen said, meeting his brother’s stare head-on, “someone went to a lot of trouble to show we are not untouchable.”
Dagger’s eyes narrowed. “Then they don’t know you very well.”
“Well,” Reaper drawled with a sneer. “I hate to point this out, but we are not untouchable. And we were taken down shamefully easily.”
Knight nodded.
“We were betrayed,” Saint said.
Yes, and that should never have happened. Betrayal was unacceptable. Loyalty was above all else. Tom had to know that he’d be outed the moment their enemy struck. Which meant he was either extremely desperate, or their enemy was more convincing than they thought, or Tom had been loyal from the start, but never to them.
A little rat.
A little spy.
And he’d been in their house.
But his mind circled back to the irrefutable truth—she had been taken on his watch. His. That was a failure he could neither forgive nor forget.
“Reaper, Drake,” Maxen said. “You follow the tracks with me. Knight, Saint, find the boy. Dagger, they might have a decoy.”
“If they have, I’ll be happy to deal with them.” Dagger’s lips lifted like a hound scenting blood.
Saint strode over to swing onto the back of Knight’s horse, nodding Maxen to his own. “Don’t lose him too.”
Reaper whistled. “Poking the bear already.”
Maxen glared at his brothers. However, some of the tension left his body, replaced by determination. He strode over to the horse and swung into the saddle, the movement sending a fresh pulse of pain through his skull. He ignored it and fixed his eyes on the narrowing strip of road ahead.
“Let’s move,” he ordered.
Mud flew under pounding hooves, the wind biting at his face, the world reduced to one single thought. He would find her. Every yard he covered was one less between him and the woman who’d slipped—no, been ripped—out of his reach.
They would pay for taking her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Awareness returned inhazy flashes.
The first thing Calliope registered was smell. Old mold, at least she thought that’s what it was, and something damp rotting somewhere. Second was the pain.Never jump from a moving carriage again, Calliope!Though, she ached less than she thought she would. Small mercies. Only then did she notice the sound of breathing. Most decidedly not hers. Or perhaps it was. At that point, anything was possible.
Her eyes flickered open.
The room was dark, light filtering only through narrow cracks between planks nailed across the windows, and for a moment, panic slammed into memories from the past and flashed through her head like nightmares.
Was she back in the attic?
Had Duvessa and her uncle found her?
How was that possible? She’d changed her name. She’d been so careful.
Calm down, Calliope.
