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A minute passed, and I had nothing.

“Well, then.” His fingers dropped to the fastening of his jeans. “I’ll go to the castle at dawn.” He grimaced as he peeled his jeans down over his lean thighs. “You know what the worst part is?”

“That you’re putting yourself in danger and I’m going to be doing nothing but sitting here and waiting?”

Naked now, August climbed onto the bed and straddled me. “No. That part’s fine.”

“What then?”

His lips twitched. “I won’t look good in that robe.”

“If they accept you.”

“They will,” he said with all the brash confidence I expected of him. “I’ll play them like a fiddle.”

“Like a what?”

“A fiddle. A violin.” He rolled his eyes. “We should have brought that encyclopedia with us. You could’ve educated yourself while I’m gone.” He went to climb off me, but I grabbed his hips and held him there. “I’m not seducing you,” he said. “You’ve had a shitty day.” He grimaced. “Not shitty. That doesn’t cover it.”

“I thought you were good with words,” I teased.

“Usually. Just… not around you.”

That confession made me smile. “What if I want to be seduced?”

He leaned forward, planting his elbows on either side of my head and staring into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

I reached for him, fusing my mouth to his and only answering the question when I came up for air. “Very sure.”

I needed this, something that wasn’t biters, death, infection, or destruction. And if I really couldn’t dissuade August from his plan, he’d be gone tomorrow. Who knew when I’d see him again. I refused to think if, but that didn’t stop the possibility from lurking in the back of my head.

Chapter Twenty-five

August

The morning began with Keaton and me having the same conversation we’d had the night before. It stalled at the same point too, Keaton unable to come up with a viable alternative that didn’t involve taking potshots at William Anderson with his crossbow, and then trying to outrun the men who’d come for revenge.

I’d left him everything of value I had, including my watch. That had been easy to part with. The horseshoe chain was much harder. I didn’t want to risk it being taken, and from what I’d seen, the Seekers weren’t big on personal possessions.

There’d been no tearful goodbye. In fact, it had barely been one at all, just my quiet assurance that he could trust me to do what needed to be done, and his quiet nod in return.

Now here I was, making my way up the cliff to the castle, eyes and ears open in case they had any defense measures in place. So far, there were none, but I was only halfway up. The proper test would be at the door.

I glanced back toward the beach. Could they have seen us with Madeleine the other day? The stake was visible, but from this distance, the three of us would have looked no bigger than ants.

Still no attack as the steps dwindled, until I stood before the massive wooden door, all limbs intact. So far, so good.

“Showtime,” I whispered as I knocked.

The door creaked open in under a minute, someone clearly stationed behind it.

The man who filled the doorway—and I mean filled—was tall and broad. His scowl said he didn’t appreciate visitors and would much rather not have to deal with them. His robe was so large I wondered how many normal-sized robes could be made from it. Two, maybe three.

“Hello there, friend,” I said, ignoring the glare. “And how are you this fine morning?”

“What d’ya want?”

Getting people to do what you wanted was mostly about choices—usually two. The right choice moved you forward, the wrong one, back. String enough right choices together and you achieved your goal. Enough bad forced you to retreat.