The Wizard’s lips broke into a sinister smile, teeth sharp and glistening. “Got a sense of humor, this one, don’t she.”
Hands as strong as iron locked around my biceps again. Declan and Nemuik.
Huffing air out my nose, I gritted out, “Nothing about this is funny.”
“Then why ye crackin’ jokes?” Darkness swirled beneath his wispy lashes as he pinned me with a knowing look.
My stomach flipped. He knew something was wrong. He just wanted me to cooperate in front of all his loyal subjects.
I wasn’t going to let this go.
“You’re a smart man.” I wrestled against the grip of the dwarves at my sides, not missing that every hand and claw in the chamber slid to their sheathed weapons. “And as leader of such a well-oiled syndicate, I’d be shocked if you didn’t keep tabs on every member, on every contract that gets signed here.”
A hiss slithered in the air, raking over my skin. I could have sworn it trickled from one of the mouths of the serpents on the arms of his chair, but that was impossible. They were ornamental, like gargoyles sculpted onto a steeple.
“Especially ones that call for blood.” My jaw was so tight I barely managed to get the rest out. “Especially if it meant sending hundreds of your Stalkers on an ambush. Or maybe you just turn a cheek when the hush money is right.”
The Wizard sat back in his throne, loosely draping his elbow over the armrest, the snakes unmoving but poised to strike. With the blood rushing in my ears, I’d probably just been hearing things. He sucked his teeth, as if something was stuck between his molars.
“Throw ’er in the pit.”
The dwarves dragged me across the room, towards one of the more secluded tunnels.
“Wait! Let go of me!” I bucked against their grasp. “WAIT!”
The chamber shook with the force of my shout. Nemuik and Declan lay in a heap, bug-eyed, mouths gaping. Source charged my blood, the air, my breaths. Condensation beaded the smooth face of the stone, vibrating with power. My power.
I drew in a ragged breath. I couldn’t let them see what this was—an accident. That would be deadlier; it’d reveal the crack in my armor.
So, I did nothing to soften the snarl on my face or the glare in my eyes, even if the hushed creak of bows and the whisk of spears whispered through the room.
Even if they were all aimed at my chest.
Water flowed in thin rivulets from the walls to the floor, pooling beneath the soles of my feet.
“That’s right.” The Wizard’s eye stayed glued to my hands, as if they were a pair of rare, fatal weapons that might rip him apart if he tore his gaze away. “Yer that Angel of Water.”
A wave of subdued realization fell over the room. I kept my expression bored.
“Tough contract, that one.” A chunky ring glistened in the light as he twirled the braided end of his beard. “Almost didn’t ’ave te Stalkers take it when that Grater Demon approached me wit it.”
“How considerate of you.” I pursed my lips.
“I heard ye escaped her clutches, ye stealthy little ting.” He released a wiry gray strand of hair from around his finger. “Ryder and Leif wanted to pursue ye after.” My heart stumbled, the words hitting an aching part of me. “I declined their request. By syndicate standards, their work was done. Not our business what ’appens to ye after. How’s that for yer morals?”
Tears stung my eyes. I clenched my jaw, holding them back. Foolish. I was so foolish to think Ryder only betrayed me because he’d been bound by blood and honor. But the Wizard said it himself: Ryder had delivered me to his client, Finis—he’d completed that job thoroughly—and yet he was still hunting me.
I just couldn’t figure out why.
“But now that yer standin’ right ’ere…” Veins popped out of his weathered skin, that quiet hiss from earlier slithering in the space between us again. “It’d be easy to pop ye in a sack and deliver ye to Chthonia meself. I’m sure tere’d be a very large reward. A very large reward indeed…”
My breaths rattled in my lungs as Nemuik and Declan shifted closer.
“Whatever it is,” I quickly lied, “I can offer more.”
“Te devil pays well.”
I stiffened. I don’t think it really hit me who was haunting me, hunting me, until he said that. The Night Stalkers were just a tool, loyal only to each other and the ones that hired them—it was hell itself that put the bounty on my head.
