Dimitar glows with evil satisfaction and holds out his large hand. Lucas steps forward, his hand securing around mine. His voice lowers. “It’s easier this way.” And tries to pry my hand off his.
But I can’t let go. All I can see is him lying on my front step years ago with a gash from shoulder to thigh. Three slashes, like something large tried to gut him for daring to pay off his debts. My heart pounds, my vision tunneling. If he does this, I’ll never see him again. Dimitar will never allow him to slip away a second time.
Lucas rips his wrist free and steps away. Valen plants a hand on his chest and shoves the magician violently back. Lucas stumbles, his eyes flaring. I can practically hearMartyring idiotwhispered in the crackle of magic from Valen’s hand.
Valen snaps, “I can pay the debt. There’s no reason for indenturing.”
Annoyance flickers in Dimitar’s yellow eyes. “Bauer or not, I’ll take offense if you continue to get involved in a matter that doesn’t concern you. Walk out the door and send my regards to your father.”
Valen doesn’t move, irritation radiating off him. But this isn’t about the money for Dimitar. It’s about control. I would bet my shop on it. Dimitar wants Lucas back because he’s the only one who’s ever managed to escape the Guild alive. His pride cannot permit the insult.
But I have a plan. One so crazy that it has to work, that our desperation willmakework. I have no choice. I will not give up Lucas and I will not let Dimitar get away with what he’s done to Jinx. My gaze slides over to the ghoul holding the iron box, then Ivan standing stoically beside them, and back to hover over Dimitar.
Revenge burns through my blood as I step beside Valen. “What about a different deal?” I smile slowly. “One with me?”
Lucas spits an enraged hiss. “What the fuck are you doing?” And it only manages to pique Dimitar’s interest.
The Amur’s eyes glimmer, dilating like a cat gazing upon a meal. His gaze follows my body and disgust makes me shiver.“I’m sure there are many things we can agree to, my sweet enchantress.”
I resist gagging. Lucas is on edge beside me and I know he’s about to lose his ever-loving mind, which is exactly why Dimitar did it. I keep my composure. “I think you’ll find my offer hard to resist.”
His purr is a deception, a trap for a lesser woman. “I’m sure.” He saunters forward. Power from his token ripples with each movement, his human form straining to remain. His fangs glint even longer. “Tell me.”
I take a steadying breath and meet him halfway, perfectly evading Lucas’ swiping hand. Valen’s gaze snaps to me, but the only hint of his tension is his jaw flexing. I’m mere inches from the deadliest magician token in the country and I give the man who mastered it a slow once-over. “What if I can offer you something worth much more than money?”
He huffs a laugh and my spine crawls. “You do think highly of yourself.” His hand lifts and his thumb strokes my jaw. Awareness of a deadly claw below the surface tightens my body and he adds, “Though you are much nicer to look at with your hair like this.”
Lucas snarls and surges, but Valen catches him. Dimitar’s gaze flicks to them and sadistic glee glints. Valen hisses something harshly to Lucas, probably telling him to shut the fuck up or he’s going to force Dimitar’s hand.
I struggle to keep my face relaxed when Dimitar runs his blunt fingers through my hair and watches the coppery strands slip free like water. He catches the ends and brings them forward to enjoy my scent. He smirks when an enraged low sound tears through Lucas’ throat.
I smile. “Oh, you’ll love this.” I free my hair from his fingers. “I have something that will bring the ArchweaverandVincentius Bauer to their knees to get their hands on.”
That gets his real attention. Those yellow eyes snap away from enjoying Lucas’ writhing. He scans me in a slow, calculating way.
I tilt my head back, smugness making me bold. “In case you weren’t aware, civil war has broken out within the weavers: Atticus versus Vincentius. One will win and have control over the Astrum Order. Bothneedthis thing I have.”
I offer a prayer that this works and continue, “My grimoire, which holds the key to a little deadly problem they’re facing. And I’m willing to trade it for your cooperation and release of my familiar.” I wave offhandedly. “And, of course, clearing all this nasty talk of money. A clean slate after this exchange, including the upcoming tithe.”
The only tell is the stillness that follows my statement. Like a tiger that’s spotted its prey. Dimitar’s gaze sweeps me once more. “How interesting. Your grimoire is something I’d be interested in trading for. But the exchange is not balanced. I’ll take the money that Valentin Bauer is offering as well as the grimoire and let Lucas go free.”
“Oh no, no, no. Dimitar, please!” I smile too wide, my eyes flashing. “This is what I do. Don’t think I don’tknowwhat this grimoire is worth. I’m offering you something that two of the most powerful weavers will sell their souls for. The leverage you’d have over the Order is immeasurable.”
Dimitar takes a slow breath, his eyes narrowing. He steps closer until our chests nearly brush. My head has to crank back to maintain eye contact. His voice has a hint of a growl to it that raises my hair. “And what makes you so sure of its worth?”
“Because within it is the only record of the curse plaguing the Archweaver, something that will infect Vincentius if he seizes control of the Order. Something they need if they have any hope of breaking it.”
His eyes flare, confirming that he knew my father wanted something of mine, but not what or why. “And what makes you so sure?”
My voice dips to a seductive drawl. “Because I’m the one who cursed them. What do you say?” I hold out my hand, magic humming in my palm. “Do we have a deal?”
Dimitar laughs and it’s a deep, unnerving sound. I prepare to dive back if he lunges forward to rip out my throat. He beams at me, stepping back. “You got yourself a deal.” And his hot palm closes around mine in a crushing grip. His magic stings me and mine flares in response. Little tendrils of electricity crackle up his arm. “Fetch me this grimoire.”
Valen’s gaze burns into the back of my skull. He knows what I do: that I must have the grimoire to tease the parasitic curse from my soul. Otherwise, my soul will be ripped from me when someone else reverses it.
I smile innocently. “Of course. It’s in my vault.” I nod towards the curtain. “In the basement.”
Dimitar’s eyes narrow, his hand tightening around mine. He smells a trap, but its nature is still a mystery. I keep my smile unwavering, but my eyes dance and a giggle threatens to bubble up. Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I feel heady.
