I keep inching closer and closer.
I see the flicker of surprise, but he’s too shrewd to give anything up willingly. It’s why he got to where he is, and why I have the syringe discreetly tucked behind my palm.
He shakes his head. “You’re batshit, fella. And I will give you one last warning.” He holds the knife aloft and I take my moment to strike. Back when we were Knights together, he took a bullet to his left knee, it tore the ligaments to shreds, and nobody ever fully recovers from an injury like that. I crouch low and barrel into it, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as he drops to the ground. He swipes the knife through the air at me, but I dodge it easily and snap his arm in half, causing the blade to fall to the ground.
Before he can take a swing at me with his good arm, I stick the needle into his neck and inject the entire contents into him. He grabs at the fresh entry wound. “What the fuck did you just give me?”
I stamp on his good kneecap, crushing that one too. “Snake venom.”
That’s a lie. I just injected him with what’s colloquially known as truth serum. My Japanese chemists have been working on this one for a while, and it’s better than any other on the market, but it still takes an annoying two to three minutes to take effect. If Fraser realizes what it is, he’ll pop that little cyanide capsule all Bishops and Rooks have hidden in one of their upper molars, and I won’t get anything from him.
I crouch down and pick up his knife, turning it over in my hand, buying some time. “Who the fuck are you?” he growls.
“I already told you. I’m a messenger for the King. Now tellme what you know about the girl?” I need to save my questions about who the King is for when the serum takes hold. For now, I’ll keep up my pretense that we’re on the same side, even if he isn’t entirely buying it.
He grunts, a sound full of pain and frustration, but he can handle a lot more pain than a couple of busted knees. “Same as everyone knows. She was bought by some weird billionaire recluse.”
I grind my jaw. So they don’t know who I am? Of course, Fraser could be lying.
It’s been two minutes and the serum should be working now. He’ll bite on his capsule as soon as I ask him who the King is, and then I only have one to two minutes before he dies. I hope that’s enough.
I remove my mask. “Who is the King?”
He blinks rapidly and his eyes blow wide as he recognizes me. It’s always the scars that do it. They never saw my face after, but they all heard the horror stories of the road tearing through the skin on my right side. The Brotherhood sent one of their fiercest Knights, Diego Madden, after me when I left. He failed, but he did scar me for life.
As I suspected, Fraser dislodges his capsule and bites into it. I grab his jaw, but’s he’s already swallowed the lethal dose of cyanide.
“Killian Wolfe?” he snarls.
“That’s me.”
“You’re dead.”
“You know people keep telling me that, but I don’t feel dead. Who is the King?”
He clamps his lips together, fighting the serum. Then his body starts convulsing. Fucker! I bet he hasn’t eaten dinner yet, and cyanide works faster on an empty stomach. I knew this was always going to be the problem when dealing with a Rook andit burns my insides up with frustration that I might have waited eighteen long years to find one of these bastards and still walk away with nothing. I can’t let that happen.
I kick him in the face, shattering his jaw and splitting open his lips and gums. “Who is the King, Fraser?”
He grins at me, the blood pouring from his mouth. Smeared around his lips, it gives him the appearance of some kind of Halloween clown. Then his eyes roll back in his head. Piece of shit is going to die before I get any truth out of him.Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I straddle him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him so hard his teeth rattle. “Who is he? Where do I find the King?”
He laughs until blood bubbles up in his throat. “You’re looking in the wrong place, Killian.” He chokes.
“What the fuck do you mean?”
His grin widens, psychotic and unhinged. “The Queen is the most powerful piece in the game.” His words are stuttered and broken, but I hear him perfectly, and they hit me right in the chest. I’ve heard those words before.
She said the exact same thing to me.
Fraser convulses again and then his head lolls to the side. He’s already gone, but his words are still here with us. Was he speaking the truth, and I should be looking for a Queen instead of a King? Or were they the ramblings of a man who was about to take his last breath in service to the Brotherhood, designed to throw me off?
Regardless, the similarity to what Imogen said to me only a week or so ago is too startling to ignore. And there’s a cold heavy feeling of dread already settling in the pit of my stomach. Have I been totally blinded by her all this time? Has she been playing me, or are they using her to get to me? Either way, I need to get home as fast as possible.
Chapter 54
Lincoln
