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I crossed my arms. “No offense, but I’m not really in the mood for a chat.”
Hawthorne ignored that and moved farther into the room. “I haven’t had a chance to properly introduce myself.”
Remembering his disdain during the council meeting, I raised my chin. “I know who you are, and let’s not pretend you don’t know who I am. Just tell me what you want and leave.”
“As you wish.” He pulled a sword from the scabbard at his side.
I should have felt surprised or angry. Instead, I felt a healthy dose of irony and weariness. “Put the blade away, Peter Pan. You might accidentally cut yourself.”
You’d think a faery facing down a seasoned assassin might look a little anxious. Instead, Hawthorne Banathsheh had the calm countenance of a professional killer. “This is faery steel,” he said in a conversational tone. “Did you know these swords are specifically designed for decapitating vampires? That’s one of the reasons the council wanted the queen’s support so badly.”
For the first time since he drew the blade, my heart picked up a notch. He flicked the blade so it caught the light. The metal had an iridescent glow that implied it held some sort of magic.
I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet. “That’s interesting.” From the corner of my eye, I gauged the distance to my gun. “But I’d be more interested to know why you’re pulling it on me?”
He moved to the right, tracking my movements with the blade. “It’s simple, really. You’re a threat to our plans.”
“Whose plans?”
He laughed, sidestepping to the right, putting himself between me and the gun. “I’m afraid that’s classified information.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “How are you going to explain murdering me to the council?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Sabina, let’s not be naive. Your temper is well-known, as is your murderous background. Do you really think anyone here is going to question me when I tell them you attacked me? Not when they’re all counting on the queen’s support.”
He was smart, I’d give him that.
I considered just rushing him and ending this. But blades are tricky. The minute something stabby enters a fight, someone’s getting cut. Since he was the one with the sword, it didn’t take a leap to figure out who’d be bleeding. I wasn’t sure exactly how the faeries crafted their steel, but I was pretty sure it held some sort of nasty spell. I didn’t want to chance getting nicked to find out for sure.
Instead, I feinted left and rolled right. Hawthorne took the bait but recovered quickly, overcorrecting to give chase. The blade whistled through the air just above my head. I came up with my back to the table. If I could avoid Hawthorne’s parries and thrusts for a few more steps, I’d grab the gun and end this.
But with his next swing, something shiny fell free of his frilly shirt. Normally, seeing a necklace wouldn’t have distracted me, but when I saw the gold eight-pointed star pendant, I hesitated.
In that split second, moving fast as lightning, Hawthorne slashed my left arm. The wound was shallow but hurt like hellfire. I’d been right about the sword being spelled. The flesh tingled painfully for a split second before going completely numb.
I dove for the gun with my left hand. At that moment, Hawthorne’s sword slashed viciously at my arm, knocking the gun from my hand and slicing a gash down my forearm. The gun dropped to the floor and the feeling raced out of my arm.
My heart slammed into my ribs, and cold sweat covered my body. I went limp, dropping to the floor. Hawthorne’s blade slashed the air in front of my neck. I hit the floor hard and rolled. I cursed and rolled again as the faery bastard came back for another swipe. Obviously, I couldn’t just roll around the floor praying for help to arrive. Time to call on the only other weapon available to me.
Hawthorne’s boot slammed into my ribs. “Lie still and accept your fate.”
Time slowed. Hawthorne’s sword cut a slow, wide arc through the air. The energy exploded through me hard and fast. I screamed with the force of it. The faery’s eyes widened a split second before the spell blasted out of my eyes and right into his midsection. His green jacket ignited immediately. His mouth gaped mid-swing, and a gasp escaped his mouth. The sword clattered against the hardwoods.
His screams raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Flames licked Hawthorne’s body like hungry mouths, consuming him. He ran in circles, as if it was possible to escape the agony. But his movements only encouraged the fire to burn hotter, brighter.
It was one thing to watch a dummy burn. But watching the faery jerk and wail as he burned alive was truly horrifying. The scent of burnt flesh stung my nose.
I crawled to my knees, watching helplessly. My conscience kicked in, realizing what I’d done. Yes, he’d tried to kill me, but no one deserved to die like this. He finally collapsed into a mewling heap by the windows. Still, the fire burned. Pink scalp showed through the smoldering remains of his hair. His lips were burned off, leaving his mouth nothing but a mass of teeth. The grotesque facsimile of a smile made bile rise in my throat.
By this time, I’d begun to get feeling back in my arms. Without allowing myself to think too hard about what I was about to do, I picked up the gun. I limped slowly toward the windows.
I stood over the smoldering body and listened. A soft wheeze escaped his charred mouth. His lidless eyes were open, the pupils shot through with red. I crouched down and placed my ear next to his ruined face. The skeletal face groaned, making me jump. That one pathetic noise made my decision for me.
I pulled the trigger.
26
They found me sitting next to the body. The gun still in my hand and my eyes on the golden pendant.
I heard Maisie’s gasp first, followed by a male curse. Footsteps pounded across the wooden floor. I looked up slowly and then blinked.
“Adam?”
His handsome face was creased with worry as he knelt in front of me. “Sabina? Talk to me.” His hands ran over my face, checking for injuries. When he reached my arms, his eyes narrowed. The skin had closed but remained hot and angry red.
“Oh, my gods!” Maisie groaned, covering her mouth at the sight of the faery’s ruined body. “Sabina, what happened?”
“I-I don’t know. One minute I was working out, and the next thing I knew he pulled a sword on me.”
“What? Why would he do that?” Maisie said.
“I don’t know. He was too busy trying to chop my head off to explain himself. But I think I know who he was working for.” I pointed to the amulet. “And it wasn’t just the queen.”
