I slipped three pills from my pocket—last of my emergency stash—then downed them in quick succession, ignoring the shame in my chest. Ignoring the self-hatred.
I needed them, just this last time. Needed the devil to steady me as only he could. To keep me from succumbing to my fear or sadness or worry or anything—anyfucking thing—that might interfere with me completing this singularly important task.
I followed the scent of him—dead roses, a hint of bourbon and ice from a freshly poured drink.
I hoped he enjoyed that drink.
It would be his last.
Two fae guards trailed him, hovering like flies on a steaming shit pile. Their heads swiveled toward me as I waltzed into the library, hands shifting at once to their crossbows.
Keradoc was standing at one of his bookshelves, the bourbon in one hand, a book spread open in the other, his brow knit tight with consternation.
He knew I was there the moment I’d taken a step across the threshold, but he waited until the guards had drawn their weapons before finally glancing up to meet my gaze.
Whatever he saw in my eyes, he knew I wasnotfucking around.
His eyes widened a fraction, the scent of his blood tinged with the barest whisper of adrenaline.
You should be afraid, you sonofabitch. Death is calling for you, and he won’t be satisfied until he claims your tarnished soul…
Quickly schooling his features into an expression of boredom, he said evenly, “Elian of Autumnshire, finally crawled out from the bottom of the barrel, have you? Looking for something to read, perhaps?”
“Not exactly.”
He snapped his book shut and slid it back into place on the shelf, then swirled the ice in his glass.
Bored. Unaffected. Ever-so-slightly annoyed.
It was a good act. Pretty convincing, really, but for the adrenaline still coursing through him, mingling with his rich fae blood like an invitation to a gourmet fucking meal.
“I wasn’t aware you’d recovered from your… incident,” he said, his words clipped.
Ihadn’trecovered. Not really. I’d slaughtered two dozen people whose only crime had been falling prey to the same addiction that still gripped me in a chokehold. I’d damn near turned Haley into a vampire tonight because I couldn’t think straight anymore. I’d put everyone I loved at risk, and I kept doing it, again and again and again, because I was a worthless junkie and a selfish fae fuck, and unless and until I could pull myself out of this pit, I didn’t deserve to call myself anything else.
But that wasn’t why I’d come here tonight, seeking our warlord.
“I’m not here to discuss my fuckups with you, Keradoc. As much as I’dloveto regale you with the tales of my utter ineptitude—and trust me, there are many, as I’m sure you can imagine—I’ve got other business here tonight.”
He glowered at me a long beat, then slid his gaze to his guards. “Go check on the other prisoners. This parasite is nothing I can’t handle alone.”
The guards bowed, then did as he asked, closing the doors behind them and leaving us in the library alone.
Fatal mistake, fuckers. Fatal mistake.
“So tell me,slave,” he sneered,enunciating the word as if I might’ve forgotten my place here and needed the reminder. “What is it you think I can do for you?”
Despite his attempt at belittling me, his bravado had slipped away with the departure of his guards, leaving behind a tired, worn-out ghost of a man. I stepped closer, taking in the sight of the fine lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the bone-deep weariness that clung to him like a second skin.
Putting him out of his misery would be a kindness.
“Oh, it’s a small thing, really,” I said. “Quick little favor.”
“Get on with it then. I’m a busy man, as you might imagine.”
I flashed a grin. “Die.”
I blurred into him, slamming him into a towering shelf clear on the other side of the room. Books and statues fell to the floor, but I didn’t give a fuck. My fist was a piston, smashing into his face and breaking his nose, the sweet scent of his blood making my mouth water for more.
