The man is waiting for me to continue. He’s expecting me to engage in conversation, to show excitement for his time and attention.
“What’s your name?” he eventually asks.
I bite back a smirk. He’s making a good research subject. I need to learn the mannerisms of the Greeds, and this man is making an excellent test dummy. He’s clearly interested in me, and he doesn’t seem suspicious—all good signs.
“I—”
My voice dies out as loud horns blare throughout the market. There are several of them, all coming from the direction of Mammon’s estate. I spin around, watching as the front gates creak open. A carriage is making its way down the paved path, heading into the city.
I was so caught up in this stranger that I didn’t notice its approach. Is Mammon inside?
Anger bubbles up, but the tonic prevents my power from flaring.
“That’s my cue,” the man mumbles.
He brushes past me, heading toward the opening gates. What’s he doing? I grind my teeth as the guards nearest him dip their chins, showing respect, and let him through.What the fuck?
The carriage stops. I wait, my heart pounding, as the man climbs inside.
This is not ideal. I’m trying to remain inconspicuous, at least until I’ve settled here. I was intending to avoid all nobility andmembers of the royal family, or those close to them. They’re too close to Mammon, and they draw too much attention.
I could tell the man was wealthy, but I never imagined that a demon with so little power would have this much connection to the royal family. At most, I assumed he would know somebody who knows somebody who knows Mammon.
The carriage door slams shut and the vehicle resumes its movement through the gates. The roads in the capital are narrow, but people make room for the carriage. I’m one of them, but I don’t get a good look inside the curtain-covered windows as it travels past me.
The carriage rounds a corner and is out of my sight within seconds, and the gates are pulled shut.
I take a minute to catch my bearings. It’s not often that I’m left speechless, and this was one of those rare moments.
Chapter Eight
CASSIA
THAT MAN WON’T leave my mind.
He possessed so little power. He was weak, and I can’t fathom what he does or who he is to have access to the royal family. Greeds don’t value physical strength as much as Wraths, but we’re all demons. Power is everything to demons. It doesn’t matter what kingdom you were raised in.
I force myself to take a calming breath before I burn through the black sludge dulling my power. I have more than I need, but it tastes like shit and knocks me on my ass. I want to limit how often I dose myself.
I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands as I pace the length of my room—all seven steps of it. It’s small, so much smaller than the bedrooms I’m familiar with. I thought I was downsizing and living a life of normalcy when I rented my apartment in Wrath, but I now realize the error in my thinking.
Thisroom is small, barely large enough to fit a twin-sized bed, a chest of drawers, and a small desk. I’m in the inn that the strange man recommended. I originally wasn’t going to stay here, mainly because I wanted to put distance between me and him, but it’s the only place that overlooks Mammon’s estate.
That’s an incredible advantage, and I’m desperate enough to take it. I need to keep a close eye on her.
I sigh, walking the two steps to the desk and plopping into the uncomfortable wooden chair. There’s no cushion, which generally wouldn’t bother me. This weakened state of mine experiences back pain, though. It’s infuriating.
The desk is directly below a window, and I flick aside the sheer, white curtains to clear up my view of the royal estate. It’s so big, and it makes my childhood home look like a shack.
I rub my lips together as I search for any glaring weaknesses. None immediately stands out, which is beyond infuriating.
I’m sure Mammon has spent the past twenty years securing her home, probably in anticipation of Aziel’s revenge. She stole Luca from us, ordered her minions to rip him apart like an animal, and dumped his body on our fucking property for me to find.
She deserves just as gruesome a death.
I’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing about the way I wish to kill her. I intend to drag it out. I want her to scream and beg, and I want to watch her face as she finally succumbs to death. I want to see it all.
There’s no movement in or around the estate, excluding the occasional guard change. I don’t want to risk writing down my observations, but I mentally catalog their shifts. I need to memorize their routine if I plan to exploit it.
