I dressed quickly in some of the clothing he’d sent up for me, glad to finally have an excuse to wear it—black leather pants, a dark gray metallic shirt, platinum armlets, leather straps and belts for days. The whole thing was pretty badass.
Ready before Keradoc, I wandered down the gallery. The doors to his suite were ajar, and I couldn’t help but sneak a quick peek inside.
The place was massive—probably three times the size of our entire suite, and that was just the part I could see. Everything was black—black walls, black furniture, black bedding.
And there, standing before a full-length mirror, was Keradoc. He’d just pulled on his shirt—but not before I saw the scars.
I held my breath to keep from gasping. His entire back and both arms were covered in scars—some thin and silver, others red and ropey. He’d been whipped, burned, shot, and the entire left side of his torso was mangled with some sort of vicious bite marks.
Heart in my throat, I stepped back from the doorway and scooted back to the stairwell, fighting to get my breathing under control.
When Jax and Elian had first told me about Keradoc, they’d said he wasn’t even a real warlord. That he was a politician who played war games from behind a desk.
But if that were true, what the hell had happened to him?
And how the hell had he survived?
“Sorry to keep you,” he said, and I glanced up, plastering on a smile. He looked over my outfit appreciatively, then pursed his lips. “Lovely, but I think it’s missing something. Something to tie it all together.”
Flashing one of his wicked grins, he handed over a bone-handled dagger.
Mybone-handled dagger. The one Jax had given me that Keradoc had stolen the night of the feast.
“Seriously? You’re trusting me with this?”
“It appears that I am. Don’t make me regret it.”
Before he could change his mind, I took it and fastened the sheath to one of my belts.
“Perfect,” he said. “Besides, it’s better to be safe than sorry in Amaranth City. My guards and I will be watching over you, of course, but… I’d just feel better knowing you had some way of defending yourself, should the need arise. Shall we?”
He held out his arm, and I linked mine through it, letting him escort me down the stairs.
Just before we headed outside, he said, “Oh, there’s one more thing.”
When I looked up, Keradoc was gone. The man who stood at my side now was blond, with striking amber eyes and a shorter, stockier build than the warlord’s.
“Another glamour?” I asked.
“I can’t risk being recognized in the marketplace. Not while I’m escorting you. I’ve got too many enemies, Haley. So as much as I despise wearing a glamour, I must remain incognito.”
Two guards joined us outside—gargoyles in their human form—and together, we walked to the marketplace.
Before Keradoc had decided I was his secret weapon and locked me up in the castle, I hadn’t actually seen much of Amaranth City. Other than that first night in the pub with Gem, I’d spent most of my time in the apartment practicing my spells and going over our plans for the Feast of the Beast.
Since then, I’d seen the city only from a distance.
Now, up close and in the thick of it, I was experiencing massive sensory overload… And loving every minute of it.
The marketplace was packed with vendors selling goods out of stalls and carts—everything from weapons to spices to exotic meats to glittering jewelry. Crowds rolled through the narrow passageways like water, jostling each other to find the best bargains, haggling with the shopkeepers, stealing whatever they could get away with.
In less than an hour, I’d managed to find everything I needed, all paid for by Keradoc without question. He also bought me a hot cider and a pastry that reminded me of a giant Pop-Tart.
“So,” I said, licking the last of the sugary, flaky crust from my fingertips. “At what point do you tell me this was all a setup and I’m actually about to meet my untimely demise?”
Keradoc laughed, low and smooth. “You still don’t trust me, little thief?”
“You’ve spent the evening being nice to me and buying me things. I’d be a damnfoolto trust you.”
