The bullet cracked through the air, hitting my stardust shield and rebounding toward the moron who had tried to shoot me.
Lissa screamed, falling to the man’s side as he crashed against the icy ground. The shot had ricocheted into his shoulder, the force of it taking him down. He’d live.
But Lissa’s fury came out on a loud roar, telling me our brief friendship had probably just come to an end.
I retracted my magic from her and took several steps backward. “I don’t mean any harm,” I promised her. “I just wanted some clothes.”
Her snarling reply was unintelligible yet conveyed everything I needed to know.
As did the flurry of shouts in the street that soon ended in a blaring alert that had me clutching my ears.
I stand corrected—this territory is not an ideal home.It’s chaotic violence and unwelcoming and—
I phased as a fiery substance shot through the air toward my head.
And downright rude!I finished, irritated with these hostile beings who continued to try to kill me without preamble.
I’m done.
I called a wall of stardust to my aid and used it to shove everyone away from me.
Only for a trickle of magic to sneak through the wall and slam right into my chest.
I stumbled backward, confused by the familiar touch.Why?I thought at it.Why would you do that?
Because it was my medallion enchantment that had knocked me down.
I shook my head and tried to clear it.
And realized I was now the focus of at least a dozen pissed-off supernaturals.
Ugh. Here we go.
CHAPTERTWELVE
VESPERUS
A Few Minutes Earlier
My wrist buzzedwith an incoming call, one I’d been expecting and dreading all day.
King Volker, House of Air and Amethyst.
We’d spoken a few times since he’d reclaimed his throne, mostly about his two loyal aids—Feyre and Lady Oleander Price.
I’d given them clemency after Volker’s perceived demise, mainly because I’d known how valuable they’d been to him during his reign. And I’d known what the imposter on his throne would have done to the two female assassins in his absence. They were loyal to Volker, not to the new monarch.
So I’d offered them safe haven in exchange for a handful of jobs.
And when Volker had miraculously risen from the grave—one he’d never actually been buried in—I’d allowed his two loyal subjects to return to him. They were blood-pledged to him anyway. It’d made sense to let them honor their bonds.
But that didn’t mean Volker and I were friends.
Something that proved accurate as I pulled up a screen to reveal his stoic features. “Vesperus,” he said.
“Volker,” I returned.
A beat of silence followed, the recently restored king wishing to prolong the suspense in an admirable attempt to gain the upper hand.
