Page 85 of Reaper’s Curse

I swallowed a giggle. After Lucas’s earlier comment, I was certain I was on the opposite spectrum of his type. But Valen’s backward stumble and open gape betrayed his outward confidence in the situation. Witnessing his hard-edged persona slip was a treat.

I slipped past Lucas and tapped Valen on the arm as I pushed into the hallway beyond. “Come on. Let’s go uncover some answers.”

A burning splinter flashed across my skin, causing me to flinch with a hiss. The pain and discomfort were something I had grown intimately familiar with since arriving in the citadel. Too many people overdue for collection and no successful way to do so. I’d been ignoring the assignment burns for days now.

Valen grabbed my arm before I could successfully move past and yanked back my sleeve.

“Who?” he demanded.

Lucas leaned in. “Who what?”

23

From his position in the hallway, the conversation on the other side of the door between Valen and Raven was indistinguishable.

If he could use a breeze to carry their words to him, he would be tempted. But as things stood…

He glanced over the iron bracelet Lucas had secured around his wrist.

No magic could be accessed. At least he’d verified Valen was busy and would be for an hour, probably more. Winter was less than thrilled that Raven was spending time with the royal healer, but he had to trust she’d be safe, given many of the palace staff knew of her whereabouts and with whom she spent time.

The prince strode away on silent feet, heading straight for Valen’s workshop.

Since Lucas had couped him up in a magical detox, Winter had limited information regarding events in the palace during those down days. Lucas hadn’t heard anything about the glove the prince had taken during his last visit to the workshop, so Winter didn’t know if Valen had yet noticed the item was missing or not.

The workshop door was locked, as Winter had expected. But he hadn’t dwelled in the same palace with the royal healer for a century and not managed to get his own key to every desired space.

He had swiped Valen’s key over eighty years ago and had a copy made. At the time, he’d thought it would be fun to go through all the stuff the healer kept locked up. In truth, the caper had turned out rather boring. But Winter didn’t know about the secret door and stairwell back then.

So, this time things were different.

The workroom door opened with a soft click, and Winter let himself in. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.

The many items cluttering the shelves and work surfaces looked familiar to him. He breezed past them with hardly a glance, making straight for the door at the back.

Access to the small closet was given without issue, but the hidden doorway in the back wall, the one that led to the tight stairwell and whatever awaited beyond… That refused to budge. And, as it turned out, Winter had no key for the hatch blocking his way and no magic available to unlatch the lock.

He yanked on the handle even though he knew his efforts would be hopeless. The door would not open. Gritting his teeth, he released a low growl and slammed his fist to the ungiving barrier. A faint shuffle found his ear, a noise from beyond the locked door.

He pressed his ear against the surface and called out, “Hello? I can barely hear you. Are you in need of help? Rescuing perhaps?” The image of him playing the savior tickled him in all the right places. “Are you there?”

Several scoffs and muffled thumps answered.

“Hello?” he called again.

I can hear you in there.

That, or a small herd of rats, large as dogs.

“Hello?”

An inhuman screech responded. The sound raced from the level at the bottom of the stairs, up and through the locked door.

And, as if hit by a supersonic sound wave, Winter flew backward. Slammed into the wall at his back. Then dropped on his butt to the ground.

“What in all the realm?” He rubbed the side of his head, the reverberations of the screech still sounding in his too-sensitive ears.

Monster, his mind whispered.