“We need to locate Serpent,” he said. “That takes priority.”
Saint nodded once. “I’ll head to the caves.”
“No. Let Drake and Reaper handle that for now. Someone needs to man the tavern. Whoever is behind this might want us scattered. But send a runner to dig up everything they can on John Fitz. Quietly. If someone knows Calliope’s background, it should be him.”
“If there are traps . . .”
Maxen met his brother’s gaze. “Then we’ll be the ones to spring them.”
Saint gave a rare smile—sharp and humorless. “Very well.”
He turned to go, but Maxen called after him. “If Rollings or Peregrine so much as twitches wrong, I want to know.”
Saint tipped his cap then vanished down the street.
Maxen turned the paper over in his hand before crumbling it in his fist.
Exposed. . .
In their world, that single sentence might get a person killed. Damn Rollings. He’d tried hard to convince them she had no part in his shady dealings. Then, who, exactly was John Fitz? More than a solicitor? More to Calliope? He’d seen enough cryptic messages in his life to know this one wasn’t a bluff. Rollings wanted Fitz to act. And act fast.
So Calliope could run?
So she could hide?
If he were a better man, he’d allow it. He was not.
He smoothed the letter and folded it again, sliding damning missive into his inner pocket. His hands were steady, though every muscle in his body quivered with the urge to strike first and ask questions never.
She might be his enemy yet.
God help them both if that were the case. But then, better men had fallen to less.
Chapter Ten
Calliope faced arather disturbing dilemma.
Two, if she counted the door she stood before.
Fury’s. The word loomed above her in bold, slashing strokes, as though the very paint had been laid down with a snarl. Stars, it was only a door, only a building, and yet the word alone had been enough to stir up dilemma one—the Maxen-shaped one.
The mess in her shop had been cleared, floors scrubbed clean, and the new door practically glowed in its newness. But that wasn’t the dilemma. The dilemma wasn’t even rational. It was that...
Urhg.
She had no reason to stay next door.
No excuse to stick to Maxen Fury’s side. Which meant, of course, she would be alone tonight. Upstairs. In the dark. In the same place she’d been when a stranger had broken in. Since using his bed again was out of the question, she told herself she would be fine. The intruder had been caught. There were new locks now, reinforced windows,andshe still had Prince.
But there was one thought she hadn’t dared let herself think until now.
What if the person behind the intruderwasDuvessa?
The moment she allowed the question to surface, the possibility latched on. Cold. Relentless. Petrifying. She hadn’t run all this wayonly for her past to follow. Quite frankly, if she were being absolutely honest with herself, she didn’t believe she’d gained enough of a foothold, enough confidence, to stand her ground against her stepmother.
Which in itself was rather disappointing.
And then had come the summons. Delivered by a boy no older than twelve, a folded note with no signature.
