by K. A. Linde
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I know, but I’ve never told anyone else about my visions, and the one person who found out was just murdered. I don’t want that to happen to you too.”
Fordham stood and put his hands on her shoulders, gentle this time. “That’s not going to happen to me. I’m glad you told me.”
“It’s good to have it off my chest actually.”
“Likewise,” he admitted. “Everyone back home knows about my curse. It’s common knowledge, but here, I finally feel…”
“Free?”
“Precisely.”
“Me too.”
He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to do about this.”
“I don’t either.”
She stared up into his eyes, knowing that was a lie. All she wanted was to kiss him again, to feel his perfect lips on hers. Yet she could see that he was being honest. That he believed he would hurt her if they continued forward. She didn’t know what to do about that. Her heart ached, just thinking about it.
“We’ll figure it out,” she told him.
He nodded.
“What a touching moment,” a voice said from the other side of the gazebo.
Kerrigan and Fordham wrenched away from each other and turned to face the woman. She was dressed in head to toe black with her shock of white hair visible but her face hidden by a black mask.
“You!” Kerrigan yelled at the assassin.
She drew her magic to her and shifted into a defensive stance. She could sense Fordham do so next to her.
“Now, now,” the woman said, holding up her hand. “I’m not here to fight. Would I have announced myself if I were?”
“What do you want?” Fordham snarled.
“I’m here to deliver a message.”
“From whom? Basem?” Kerrigan asked.
“As a matter of fact,” the woman said with a sinister smile. “Basem would like you to meet him in Row Park by Irena Fountain in a half hour, or your little friends will die.”
All the color drained from Kerrigan’s face. “What did you do to them?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything. I’m just the messenger, but Basem isn’t likely to back down. So, chop-chop. Clock is ticking. Oh, and you should go alone if you know what’s good for you.”
And then the little assassin traipsed away into the dark.
42
The Hostages
Kerrigan walked into the park alone.
She had a minute to spare when she reached Irena Fountain. The enormous fountain was made entirely of a white rock from the heart of the Vert Mountains far up north. A carving of Irena, the first dragon rider, stood atop the structure with dragon heads at her feet, spewing water into the concentric pools beneath her. The fountain stood on the cusp of the lake at the center of Row Park. And waiting just in front of it was Basem Nix himself.
With her head held high, she approached the fountain, counting off the number of goons he’d brought with him while telling her to come alone. Two at the fountain, holding Darby and Hadrian. But not Clover… was that a good thing or a very bad thing? She counted six along the waterline. Two were trailing her from the entrance to the park. And one more against the tree line. A dozen in total, including Basem. No sign of the assassin.
“Well, well, well,” Basem drawled, “look what the cat dragged in.”
She stopped before him, standing casually in the dress that was far from made for fighting. Gave off the distinct impression of being young and innocent. Not a threat. Of course, Basem already knew she was a threat. That was why he’d kept trying to kill her.
“Hello, Basem. We’ve been tiptoeing around each other the last couple of weeks. It’s time we’re finally introduced properly.”
Basem laughed, a wet coughing sound that grated on her nerves. “You think you deserve to be properly introduced to me, leatha?”
She showed no outward sign of revulsion. “Ah, just as clever as always with your comebacks. Still upset that I beat you?” she asked sweetly.
The two men behind her stilled. She could sense confusion ripple through the crowd of Basem’s men.
“That is hardly what happened,” he said through gritted teeth. “And now, you’ll pay… with your life.”
“We’ll see,” Kerrigan said evenly, forcing a smile. “You seem very bad at killing me.”
“Isa was a mistake. I admit that. She’s accomplished, but it was too impersonal.”
“Ah, want to do it yourself this time?”
“With pleasure.” He grinned, revealing a row of uneven teeth.
She had dubbed him Bruiser when fighting him in the ring all those weeks ago, and it still held truth. He might be in a gentleman’s coat with a distinguished top hat, but he would never be one of the Fae elite that he craved. Not when he still had the stench of the Dregs all over him.
“How did you find out about the party?”
Basem’s cheeks heated at the question. “None of your business.”
Kerrigan realized what must have happened, what she hadn’t even considered in all of their scheming. “They turned you away at the door.”
Basem bared his teeth. “Enough talking. Turn yourself over, and I’ll release your friends.”
She had underestimated him. And just how snobbish her father was. Of course he had turned Basem away. He wouldn’t consort with the likes of him. Now, her friends’ lives were in jeopardy.
“How do I know that you’re going to hold to your word?” Kerrigan asked. “That you’ll release them?”
“I have no issue with them,” Basem said dismissively. “They’re full Fae. They’re citizens of a tribe. One is even part of a royal family.”
Darby huffed, “As if I’m going to speak so highly of you after my kidnapping.”
“This isn’t about you,” Basem said with a blaze of fury. “This is about the leatha bitch. I can’t suffer you to live. You half-Fae and humans infesting the streets, breeding like rabbits. It’s disgusting. You’re taking up all the resources. If it weren’t for you lot, Kinkadia would be pure.”
“And you’d still be on the bottom,” Kerrigan spat at him.
She had heard this same rhetoric before time and time again. As if it were the humans’ and half-Faes’ fault that some Fae were poor and going without. There were so many more humans in poverty that the comparison was laughable at best. Unintelligent and damaging were more like it.
“You’re all criminal lowlives who don’t deserve the space in our city.”
“Hilarious, coming from you,” Hadrian muttered.
Kerrigan grinned at Basem. “Pot, meet kettle.”
“You’re surrounded,” Basem snarled over their jokes. “We have your friends. Turn yourself over to me, and I will release them. This is between me and you, leatha.”
“Fine,” Kerrigan said with a sigh. “Fine. I know when I’m beat.”
Hadrian and Darby looked at her with fear in their eyes.
“Kerrigan, no,” Darby cried.
Hadrian shook his head. “You can’t do this.”
“It’s done,” she said with all the confidence she could muster. “He’s right anyway. You two are better than me. This is… how it has to be.”
They tried to talk over her, but she began to walk toward Basem. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she tried to still her breathing. She needed to keep herself under control if she was going to survive what came next. Darby and Hadrian had to be safely removed from the picture. That was what was most important.
“Where’s your little House of Shadows boyfriend?” Basem taunted. “Decided he couldn’t stand a leatha anymore?”
Kerrigan gritted her teeth. “He decided not to help.”
“Just what you deserve.”
She was nearly to Basem now, where he stood by the edge of the fountain. “Release them,” she commanded.
Basem sneered at her, but he nodded his head at his two men, and they released the two prisoners and shoved them forward
into the circle of Basem’s ruffians. They took only two stumbling steps forward when a swirl of black smoke circled their feet. One of Basem’s men cried out as the smoke intensified, coalescing into something solid. Then, suddenly, Darby and Hadrian disappeared, and standing in their place… was Prince Fordham Ollivier.
Encircled by a ring of darkness, he looked every ounce the prince that he was. Despite the absurd powder-blue suit, he was magnificent… and terrifying. His eyes glowed silvery as the smoke dissipated, and he rose to his considerable height.
“Now, Kerrigan?” he asked with all the calculated calm that she had come to rely on.
And as Basem made a grab for her, she blasted him in the face with a torrent of air. She leaped away from Basem and into Fordham’s ring of darkness. They stood back to back, their hands raised, their magic tight to them, prepared for the attack that was surely coming.
“Any chance you can use that shadow trick on us, too?” she asked hopefully.
Fordham said nothing, and it was answer enough.
When they planned this rescue mission, Fordham had finally confided in her about his powers. That they allowed him to bend the darkness between places. It was an incredibly dangerous and difficult ability. It ran in his family, but only his father was able to do it with any regularity and not wipe himself out completely. The magic required was so enormous that Fordham hadn’t even been sure he would be able to do it today, but they’d both agreed it was worth the risk.
“Great,” she muttered. “Twelve against two.”
“I’ll take those odds,” Fordham said.
Basem chuckled his rattling laugh and then produced a small amber orb out of his pocket. It was bigger than the thing she’d shattered in the alley the first time they’d met. Suddenly that meeting made so much more sense. He’d held her long enough with the stone, but it hadn’t been strong enough that night. She doubted he’d be that stupid again.
“I don’t think you’ll survive very long, prince. And I thought we would have become allies. Your people were the greatest human and half-breed haters in the world. You hated them so much that they exiled your entire population, and you still slaughter anyone who comes onto your grounds.”
“It is clear we are not allies,” Fordham said evenly.
“No, I could never be allies with a leatha lover like you.”
“Is that from your stash of magical artifacts from Elsiande?” Kerrigan challenged.
Basem grinned. “You have done your homework.”
“That’s what you used on me that first night we met.”
“Indeed. This is a bit of an upgrade. Would you like to see what it does?”
By the smile on his face and the cheery way he’d asked that, she did not want to know. Not if the objects were as valuable as Ellerby had made them seem. They must be able to do some pretty powerful magic.
“Fordham,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Kerrigan reached deep into her well, prepared to fling her magic wide and make a run for it. But then a disturbance came from the northern part of the park, and a figure walked forward in a red button-up and black slacks.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dozan said, his smooth voice like silk in the heated tension.
“Dozan Rook,” Basem sneered. “What are you doing out of the Wastes?”
“Protecting my investment.”
Kerrigan recoiled at the statement, even as she knew that Dozan was here to help her. He stepped out of the shadows and into the light. With him were a half-dozen other men and women that he employed. Kerrigan had seen most of them around the Wastes over the last year, but she wasn’t entirely sure what they all could do. Just that they were powerful, and everyone steered clear of them at all costs. Dozan was known for collecting and owning people who were special. She’d never had any interest in being one of them.
“You know, I’ve left you where you are because you keep control of the Wastes,” Basem told him. “But I don’t have to let you stay in power there. I’d be happy to burn down the entire Dregs to get rid of shit like you.”
Dozan quirked a dangerous half-smile. “I would truly like to see you try, Basem.” Dozan glanced away from Basem dismissively. His eyes met Kerrigan’s. She could see their last argument playing over on repeat. How she had yelled at him, and he had still shown up here for her. “Come, Kerrigan.”
“You think I’m letting her out of here? You’re crazy.” Basem took a step forward. “We could still take you.”
“Doubtful,” Dozan said flatly. “Now, we will be gone.”
Basem drew power from his amber orb. “You ready to find out, D?”
Dozan eyed him critically and then slipped his hands into his pockets. “How about I make a proposition? You two solve this where it started. Settle this dispute in the ring. No rules. Anything goes. Fight to the death. The winner gets fifty thousand marks.”
Kerrigan choked. Fifty thousand marks was a king’s ransom. How in the gods’ name was he even going to be able to pony that up to the winner?
“Fifty?” Basem asked greedily. “And I get to kill her anyway?”
“That’s right,” Dozan said.
“Done. I’m in.”
“How about the night before the final tournament task? Kerrigan?”
She looked to Dozan and wondered what he was playing at. He wouldn’t let her die in his Dragon Ring. She was his investment after all, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t fight for him again. Not after the lies he’d told. Though she knew it was either fight Basem here or fight him on her terms.
“You don’t have to do this,” Fordham said at her side.
Yes, she did.
She nodded stoically. “Count me in.”
43
The Guest
Kerrigan and Fordham followed Dozan out of the park, leaving Basem and his cronies far behind. No one said a word until Kerrigan saw Clover waiting against the wall on the outside of the park, smoking loch.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Clover muttered. She stamped out her smoke and rush-hugged Kerrigan. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
Kerrigan chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“Where are Darbs and Hadrian? Are they okay?” Clover asked, concerned.
“They’re back at the party. They’re fine,” Kerrigan told her. “We got them out.” Not that she cared to explain exactly how Fordham had gotten them out. “What the hell happened with you guys? How did Basem even get Darby and Hadrian?”
“The assassin chick,” Clover said with a sigh. “She didn’t seem to want me. She grabbed Darby and Hadrian and knocked me out. I came to with a killer headache and ran to get Dozan.”
“Ugh, Isa,” Kerrigan said, tasting the name that Basem had given her for the assassin. “She told you where they were being taken?”
Clover nodded.
“Either she thought you were insignificant or she’s not working directly with Basem.”
“She kidnapped Darby and Hadrian!”
“I know. She can do his bidding but not agree with what he’s doing.” Kerrigan shook her head. “Isa could have killed Fordham and me at the party, but she just delivered a message and vanished.”
“She appears to be on her own side,” Fordham agreed.
“Well, whatever side she’s on, at least I had enough information to tell Dozan where to find you.”
“And you came,” Kerrigan said, facing Dozan.
“You’re surprised?” he asked cockily.
“It’s unlike you.”
“In fact, it seems I am constantly saving your life.” His eyes were warm as he teased her. “You should not be surprised to know that I don’t want you dead.”
Kerrigan squirmed at the intensity of that look. Clover coughed behind her, and Kerrigan carefully didn’t look at Fordham. The two had already gotten into it, and she had no desire to repeat that.
“And you get your fight,” she said.
Dozan’s diabolical grin said it all. “That is
a bonus.”
She scoffed, “As if that wasn’t the entire purpose.”
“No one backs out on a deal with me, princess.”
Fordham stiffened at the pet name.
“I am not a princess,” she furiously repeated to Dozan. “Stop calling me that.”
“But you are so easy to rile.”
Kerrigan huffed and turned from him. “Whatever, Dozan. I guess we’ll see the outcome to all of this in six days. But you’d better give me the fifty thousand marks when I win.”
“I intend to make much more than fifty thousand marks, Red,” he said, brushing a lock of her brown-dyed hair out of her face and winking.
She shrugged him off. “Of course you do, you leech.”
He just laughed. “Clover, are you coming?”
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Give Darbs and Hadrian my best?”
Kerrigan nodded and pulled her into another hug. “Be safe.”
“You too.”
By the time they checked in on Darby and Hadrian, made sure they got home safe, and returned to the mountain, Kerrigan was beyond exhausted. Fordham didn’t look much better. In fact, his face was ashy, and he kept almost tripping over his own feet.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly as they climbed back into the side entrance they’d escaped through earlier that evening.
“The black smoke uses up a lot of my magic when I jump by myself. It took more to retrieve Darby and Hadrian.”
“I’m sorry I asked you to do that.”
“I offered,” he reminded her.
She laughed. “Then, I’m sorry that you had to offer. Life would have been easier for you without getting to know me, I think.”
“But a hell of a lot more boring.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Thanks. You look like you could use some sleep. Maybe we should skip practice tomorrow.”
“No,” he said automatically. “We need to train harder than ever if you’re going to go up against Nix in the Dragon Ring. We’ll need a plan of attack. I’ll be able to train tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said as they came to the crossroads where he would return to the competitors’ area.