Sometime during the night, warm arms curl around me in bed, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of my neck.
“Did you miss me?” comes a familiar rumble.
It draws me out of sleep—nice dreams for a change—and as I blink in the light of a lantern that’s been newly lit, I realize my husband is home.
“You’re back.” I turn into his arms, pressing my face against his shirt and the hollow of his throat. I don’t quite cling to him. “How was the front?”
“Busy.” He steals a kiss, and I melt into it.
Every hard inch of him drives me into the mattress, and I run my hands through his hair as I drink at his mouth.
Finally, I can breathe again.
“What are we doing today?” I murmur.
He gives me a rather pointed nudge.
“That’s only an hour’s worth of distraction,” I tell him. “After that?”
Thiago smacks my hip. “And after that we do it again.” He kisses my chin. “And again.” A kiss to my throat. “And again.”
And then he’s working his way down, his fingers brushing against the silk nightdress I no longer need to be wearing.
Chapter Seventeen
Elms Day brings with it the sound of bells.
They ring through the streets below the castle as Thiago stares down at the note that appeared on Eris’s pillow this morning. He sniffs the Sorrow rose. “The Prince of Shadows sends word. He’s found the conspirators behind this little plot and he has them in chains.” Thiago looks up at me. “Something about a triple fee for producing them alive.”
“Double,” I tell him. “It was double. Who are they?”
Thiago flips the note over. “I don’t know. He doesn’t say. He says he has them contained in holding cells in the Bone Church, and will expect payment upon delivery.”
This is what I get for using an assassin.
Untrusting soul.
“You are not going into the city,” Eris says flatly. “Not today.”
Thiago runs the letter over his lips. “They’re going to attack my city. And we don’t know if any of them work in the castle. They could be among the guards, the servants, or even the kitchen staff. What makes you think we’re safer up here?”
“What makes you think the Prince of Shadows isn’t involved?”
“Just a… feeling,” he muses.
“Finn,” she says, turning her attention to the handsome rogue.
Finn leans back in his chair. “I’m just here for my good looks and charm. Besides, I know better than to argue with him when he’s in this mood. Look at him.”
We all look at Thiago.
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“He has his brooding face on,” Finn continues. “That face says ‘someone threatened my wife and now they’re going to die.’ That face says ‘Adaia turned one of my closest friends into a bane.’ It says ‘I really, really want to punch someone.’”
I sip my tea. “It also says, ‘For fucks sake, Finn. Shut up or I’ll hang you out the window by your heels.’”
Thiago holds his hands out. “She’s not entirely wrong.”
Eris snatches the letter from Thiago’s hand and scrunches it into a ball with a passion that makes both men wince. “Fine. Let’s walk into a potential trap. Let’s march into an assassin’s quarters and offer our heads for the chopping block. We’ll take Baylor. He can unleash a little of his pent-up aggression on people who want to kill us. It will be fun.”
“This is what I like about you, Eris,” Finn says, rubbing her shoulders. “You’re always so optimistic.”
“There’s no storm,” I point out as we march into the Old Quarter, because Theron said there would be a storm. “Not even a cloud in the sky. Maybe he misread the situation?”
“Does anyone else wonder if we can trust Theron?” Finn asks. “I’m not saying I agree with Eris, but I am merely pointing out that he is head of the Assassin’s Guild, and he happened to walk into a bookstore where our princess was listening to what appears to be a conspiracy to overthrow our precious prince. Who’s to say he wasn’t there for that meeting and didn’t panic when he saw Vi?”
“Trust me,” I drawl. “I don’t think Theron knows what panic means.”
“You didn’t think of this earlier?” Eris asks, her hard gaze darting into every alley we pass. She hasn’t taken her hand off the hilt of her sword. “When I was trying to convince everyone this was a bad idea?”
“This is a good idea,” Baylor says, cracking his knuckles.
Everyone looks at him.
Even Thiago.
“Alive,” Thiago reminds him, as we cross the bridge into the Old Quarter. “We need information and—"
There’s a tremor deep underground.
I freeze, looking down. “Can you feel that?”
Thiago takes a step toward me, and the sharpness of his features assures me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Every inch of him becomes alert. “Eris?”
“Fan out,” Eris snaps, and she takes the point as Finn and Baylor both draw their swords.
“What is that?” Finn mutters.
There’s no immediate threat. No sign of impending doom.
But I can feel it spiraling out beneath me as though magic is being breathed to life in the world nearby. An immense, dangerous sort of magic.
Somewhere nearby, the earth is screaming.
A frown furrows between Thiago’s brows. “Baylor, take Vi back to the castle. I need to—”
“Not without you.” Our eyes meet, and then he gives a curt nod as if he recognizes I’m not merely going to tuck tail and run.
“Then take these.” He flips a pair of daggers into his fingers and offers me the hilts.
“Why do you get the sword?” I joke, trying to swallow my sudden nerves. My skin itches.
“Didn’t you know? Size matters to all males.”
“Yes, but as all females know, you can still feel a little prick.”
An incredulous laugh escapes him, before he starts to scan the skies. “Later. You’ll pay for that later.”
“I’m trying to concentrate here,” Finn says, making a gagging sound.
A horrible rumbling sound ruptures the world, but there’s a distance to it that makes me uncertain. So deep I can’t
