I glanced at Skye and Indigo, and then grinned at Rigel.
He slightly inclined his head, acknowledging my glee.
The best thing is, I didn’t have to bust out the Paragon’s tea like I promised I would if they voted me down!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rigel
Istood next to my bed and stared at Leila.
Since I’d slipped off the bed, she’d burrowed under the mound of blankets I’d prepared for her. Only her face peeked out the side of a blanket—the rest of her was covered.
She looked ridiculous—like a hamster.
And somehow this hamster managed to drag me into politics, ruin everything I’ve worked for, turn the Night Court on its head…and make herself important to me.
I was tempted to rouse her just to hear her voice—I still hadn’t been able to pinpoint what it was about her voice that was so enticing.
But I knew she’d become an important entity to me—something I hadn’t ever thought I’d have.
Sure, Dion had been my friend since we were kids. But my relationship with Leila went deeper.
Out of everyone in the world, she’d become the one person I trusted, and the one person I believed in.
It was something I couldn’t ever recall experiencing before.
And they were still after her.
A lock of Leila’s hair slipped over her face, and her nose twitched.
I crouched down and tugged the blankets back just far enough that I could push the black lock to join the rest of her silky hair.
I had spoken the whole truth when I’d said I thought the person who set the skull monster loose in the Autumn Court and the person who sent the shadowy creatures after Leila were different people.
I was positive the one who had hired me was the same person who sent the snakes and the shadow creatures from the market, and based on the evidence and what I’d seen, I was equally positive that person had not sent the monster to the Autumn Court.
However, both attacks undeniably used the same magic. Which means they’re using the same supplier, or the one who hired me is just a front.
I sat on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip.
As if she had some special sensor for my presence, Leila crept across my pillow and grabbed onto my jacket—still sleeping soundly.
I’d wanted to tell her on at least twelve different occasions who had hired me to kill her when I first saw her. I’d tried finding ways around the geas that made me hold my silence—but writing didn’t work, neither did texting her, or even drawing pictures. I couldn’t eventhinkthe name, and my body froze up whenever I tried to give her a clue.
Which, I was starting to realize, was a greater danger than I thought.
She had no idea who was after her. And I couldn’t warn her.
I tried to tug her fingers off my coat, but she latched on, her fingers white with strain as if she knew what I was about to do, and was trying to stop me.
I was about to break another one of my “nevers” for her.
When I’d first taken on the name of the Wraith, I had vowed I’d never work without a contract—and my services would never be free. There was no one I cared enough for that I’d ever hunt, track, and kill for.
But she’d changed that.
Sliding my fingers under her palms, I managed to get her hands to release my jacket. “I won’t be gone long,” I said. “I’m just going to investigate whoever is behind the monsters.”
