Bloody Imogen. We were going to have to have a chatlater.
“We’re not involved,” I saidquickly.
“Oh, I know,” Saoirse piped. “But not everyonewill.”
Ah. I understood what she meant now. Some of the fae would believe the rumours and think I had some kind of ‘in’ with the King. That I would have knowledge or access, and they would be able to get to him through me, because that bomb would make mepliable.
So, Saoirse hadn’t been wrong when she’d warned me earlier. Not everyone in this castle could betrusted.
That includedme.
* * *
It had beena few days since I’d checked in with Clark, and I’d come up with a plan to get some information into her lap. All I needed was a few moments alone outside to find her raven. It would no doubt be searching the skies, waiting for a moment it could approachme.
Luckily, everyone was so distracted by the smoke bomb that they didn’t notice me sneaking out of my upstairs room. Saoirse had forgotten to lock it for once. She probably felt sorry for me. A tinge of guilt went through me. I was using her empathy to my advantage, which didn’t feel great...well, I’d just have to brush it aside fornow.
In my drawer, I’d been relieved to find another notebook and pen. I wasn’t able to write down anything useful, but I’d come up with a system of numbers. Numbers that should mean something to Clark. She might be confused at first, but I was certain she’d figure itout.
I pushed the door open and dashed across the cobblestone courtyard. The raven perched on the tip of the horse statue’s long snout. The paper rippled in my fingers. I was glad the bird was out here, waiting for me. It wouldn’t take long for someone to notice I’d gonemissing.
A dark shadow loomed from behind the statue. Heart constricting, I slowed to a stop, suddenly realising how very alone I was out here. My sword had been stowed away somewhere inside of the castle, out of my reach. If the fae behind the smoke bomb had followed me outhere...
When the moonlight splashed onto the lurker’s face, I gasped. Lugh stepped out of the shadows, his entire form hidden beneath a long black cloak. He strode toward me, the heavy fabric rustling against thecobblestones.
“I thought I might find you out here, yet I hoped I wouldn’t,” he said in a lowgrowl.
Unease flickered through me, but I squared my shoulders. “What’s the big deal? I’m tired of being locked up in my room, and I want some freshair.”
He narrowed his eyes as his cloak fluttered in the light wind. For a split second, I could see inside the folds. He didn’t have a spear. Thank the Morrigan. Not that I actually thought he would use it against me. Now, more than ever, I was convinced he’d been the one in thevaults.
Why had he helped me fight the Sluagh? Who the hell knew. This male was a hard one to figureout.
“You were rushing around like you have somewhere to be, not like you wanted a leisurely evening stroll,” he pointed out. “What’s that in yourhand?”
Bollocks. The note for Clark. I crumpled the ball and wound my hands around my back. “I don’t know what youmean.”
“Give that to me.” He closed the space between us and wrapped his arms around my back, digging his fingernails deep into my wrists. A flutter went through my stomach as his body pressed tight against mine. Electrifying magic shot through my veins. I gasped when he kept me close, wrenching my hand toward hiseyes.
I still had a fistful ofparchment.
“A note. To whom?” Without another word, he nipped at my hand. A tremor went through me at the feel of his mouth on my skin, and instinctively, my grip on the paper loosened. An evil grin stretched across his face, and he took the note from my fingers with histeeth.
“I thought that might work,” hemurmured.
I swallowed hard, my eyes locked on where his lips pressed against the sheet of paper, like a strangekiss.
Slowly, he stepped back and extracted the note from his mouth. All I could do was watch, eagerly drinking in his every move. There was something so...otherworldly about him. His movements were fluid and strong. Everything about him screamed power and confidence. If this male had a weakness, I certainly couldn’t see what itwas.
Other than he was an arsehole traitor, of course. Couldn’t forget aboutthat...
He frowned as his eyes tripped across the parchment. “Whatisthis? What do these numbersmean?”
I tried to bite back a smile. The blood contract might be a pain in my arse, but at least it had kept him from discovering the truth about why I washere.
“Sizes,” I chirped. “Since you had to destroy all my clothes, I wanted to go shopping in town. Unfortunately, a very controlling King caught me on myway.”
“You said you wanted fresh air.” His eyes narrowed. “And you needed to write down your own sizes in order to buy yourself someclothes?”
