Keeffe’s right hand twitched, the only indication of nervousness brewing.
The two men stared at each other. Longer than I could handle.
“All right,” I huffed, throwing up my hands. “I’ll head out so you two can have a little powwow.” I shoved the gun in Lochlainn’s hand and spun on my heel, about to leave?—
“Someone poisoned our shipments,” Lochlainn said flatly.
The fact that his voice was tied to an actual answer stopped me in my tracks. I turned back.
Keeffe’s brows lifted, looking just as surprised as I did.
“Something so potent, people are fatally overdosing with just a few drops,” Lochlainn went on. “And I don’t think this is just a hit onmybusiness.” Gold eyes slammed into mine, heavy and piercing. “I think it’s much bigger than that.”
The look on his face—it gutted me in the worst way, carving anxious knots in the pit of my core. There was more, so much more, but he wouldn’t say. He looked right through me.
Just overdoses . . . just a natural disaster . . .
Thoughts of the Loveland attack rushed in like floodwater.
Was this him again—the Skell King? Was Luckland next?Fuck. Was this because of me?
Shit. It had to be. He knew I was here—knew Luckland was my safe haven . . .
I swallowed so hard it nearly took my tongue with it.
“The attack on your runner. The Dullahan. Now this . . .” My eyes burned as I buried them into the floor. “I’m so sorry.”
All those people.Dead. And for what? Because some psycho king believed I was either his wicked-incarnate heir, or an escaped prisoner . . . the byproduct of his late wife’s lies.
The Dullahan made it seem like he wanted me alive. Which should be a relief, and yet, I found that even more disturbing.
“This is my fault,” I rasped. “Because I’m here.” I could only spare a quick glance at their frowning features.
First sorrow, then pity spread across Keeffe’s face.
A warm hand found a home under my chin and raised it up. Amber met gold as my sights locked on Lochlainn.
“This isnotyour fault,” he said, voice stone cold. “Not a single one of those bodies belongs on your conscience. Ya hear me?” The words struck like iron, and my spine snapped straight in response.
He searched my face, as if trying to find an ejection button for all the guilt that was building inside me.
His hand fell away.
“Greed runs in the blood of every Lucklander—an ailment we’ve learned to manage. But in others, it’s a vile sickness. Slow to spread, festering until there’s nothing left but rot. For that Skell bastard, enough will never be enough. Not gold, not coin, not any treasure. He craves souls. To drink the lands dry.” Lochlainn’s face drew tight. “Ya may be his fixation for now . . . but one way or another, he’d come for the rest of us too.”
Keeffe exchanged a look with him, quiet and knowing. As if confirming some plan that had already been laid in place—and it was now time to move.
Deep within me, my inkling stirred. No trace of deceit. Nomask, no fabrication. I was meeting the raw, unguarded version of Lochlainn.
David and Faelad made a mistake in doubting him. He’d been one step ahead this whole time. Any facade Lochlainn put on . . . well, maybe he and Faelad weren’t so different after all. Whatever drama laid between them needed to be set aside. If he could just talk to Faelad—swap information, share what they knew—maybe we’d have a better chance of stopping the Skell King. Or at the very least, figure out his next move.
“Loveland wasn’t a natural disaster.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My mouth instinctually snapped shut.
Oops . . .
Lochlainn’s body went completely rigid—frozen.
46
