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“Please.” She wrapped her fingers around her shredded throat, trying to apply enough pressure to slow the flow. “It was Venissa. Not my fault.”

The shield around Laura suddenly compressed as if Rik crushed a tin can in his meaty palm. She let out a helpless little whimper and then slipped to the floor. Dead. All the bones in her body broken in random places, making her look like a crumpled puppet with its strings cut.

I shifted back to my human form, closing the gunshot wound so at least I didn’t leave a tell-tale blood trail. I slipped forward carefully and picked up a discarded blade. Three queens remained in their chairs, but I didn’t know which one was Venissa.

:Deep red hair, almost burgundy,: Daire said. I focused on the queen who’d been sitting beside Deidre. :That’s her.:

Khalid played the decoy this time, letting out a sharp, surprisingly loud yip that made the queens flinch. While I circled around toward Venissa.

Gina rose and joined Kevin in front of the queens. “A credible accusation has been made, Venissa.”

“Clearly a false accusation made out of desperation.” Venissa’s voice remained calm and even, though she clutched the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles were white. “I’m still here. I haven’t tried to leave.”

Gina smiled, and I almost felt sorry for the queen. She might only be human, but she carried all the pride of serving House Isador for generations, in addition to our queen’s blood. “Then why did you kill Laura before she could betray you?”

“As in Rome,” Regina said in a dreamy, sing-song voice.

Venissa’s face drained of color, her head slowly turning to see who’d spoken.

Still seated at the conference table, Regina stared at the queens, shivering and pale as if she saw something terrible. “Break the mirrors. Not the black ones. Another brick in the wall.”

I sensed the flow of magic arcing toward her, the same weave of crushing power Venissa had used to kill the other queen. I threw myself into her so hard the chair tipped over backwards, carrying us both to the floor. While my blade found its mark in her heart.

Regina let out a fragile whimper, and I feared she might have taken a partial blow. Kevin ran to her, pulling her to her feet. She clung to him, though she stared at the floor. At Venissa’s dead body.

At me on top of her.

I shifted backward, testing my theory, and Regina’s gaze followed me. Though she blinked, shaking her head slightly, and then looked around in confusion. Horror twisted her face at the carnage. I stood and silently stepped back to the other two queens, and this time, Regina didn’t track my movement.

“I have no idea what happened.” The two surviving queens clutched each other, but they stayed in their seats. “I have no knowledge of their plots.”

“Me either.” The other queen wept. “I’ll swear on my blood if you need proof.”

Gina softened her smile to something more kind than brutal shark coldness. “Why don’t you begin by telling me everything you know about Venissa, Laura, and Deidre. Especially any relationships they may have had with House Valois.”

55

EZRA

:Fuck-ass knight,: I muttered, glaring at the unmarked door that gave access to a narrow staircase. :I don’t even carry a weapon.:

:Neither do I,: Daire said, impossibly cheerful in this hellhole.

:The least he could’ve done was give us one of the other knights. Or Itztli. His blade is short but damn, nobody’s gonna fuck around with him.:

:If Guillaume really thought we’d have trouble, he would’ve come himself. You know how he is.:

:Honorable.: I snorted. :Templar knight, riding to battle. Yeah, you’re right. We should be fine.:

Guillaume let out a whisper of a sigh in the bond, which for the even-tempered knight, was probably equivalent to a growl of annoyance. :I sent you there because it’s the furthest away from where you encountered Tanza, and it also provides a quick exit if you need a breather.:

Oh. Fuck. Other than Rik, the knight probably knew—and understood—more than anyone what I’d endured down here. I let out a gruff, :Thank you.:

:You’re fucking welcome.:

I scrubbed sweaty palms on my jeans. Even though we were on the opposite side of the building from the demon child’s terror playground, this whole fucking place gave me the heebie-jeebies. I tugged at the neck of my shirt. Restless. Itchy in my own skin.

Being back in the city didn’t help. Nothing but concrete and steel for miles in all directions. Teeming with fucking humanity.