“Pricked your finger.”
“Luvic.”
“Mari.”
“Tell me.”
“Nope. By the way,”—he looked down at my lighter—“why are we setting my house on fire?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I swear?—”
Luvic laughed. “Right there. The line between your eyebrows. You’re up to no good. Tell me.”
I waited to see if there was compulsion attached to the pinprick. There wasn’t. I didn’t feel the need to tell him anything; I only felt the need to kick him. He seemed more like himself, the jackaltooth hidden.
“I’ll tell you as soon as you tell me why you killed Celia and Ragnor.”
His hold on me loosened, but when I shifted, his grip tightened. He shrugged. “Because they had to die.”
He waited, clearly expecting me to answer his question now. Tit for tat.
Except it didn’t make sense, what he’d said. Luvic loved his sister. He loved his brother. He would do anything for them. He would die himself before hurting them.
But I couldn’t say any of that. I couldn’t tell him I remembered our friendship, and I couldn’t tell him I knew he loved his siblings.
I shook my head. “There’s something wrong with you.”
His eyes glinted. “There are many things wrong with me. Who’s going to light the match—you or me? Your friends are getting impatient.”
I glanced toward the window. Would Griff fly up and find me and Luvic? Would Justice try to kill Luvic if he saw me pinned to the wall, Luvic’s forearm over my throat?
Cold sweat dripped down my forehead, dropping off my chin and falling onto Luvic’s sleeve. I took a breath, smelling the sweet, fresh scent of the rose pinned to his coat.
Was he still Luvic?
Or was he something different?
A white rose now a rotten husk.
Or was he, like me, playing a dangerous game that required trust even when all signs pointed in the opposite direction?
“Do you remember when you told me you liked me?” I asked, watching him closely.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
“And did you truly like me?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“And do you still?”
“Without reservation.”
I paused. “Why? Am I going to save your life?”
He laughed. It was his rich, melodious Bard laugh. “No, Mari. You’re going to make my life hell.”
I made a decision. One born from years of friendship. A friendship he remembered and thought I’d forgotten.
