Page 63 of The Duke’s Bloody Bargain

“I’m sorry.” His aura changed to burnt orange and dark blue—his shame and sorrow prickled my skin. “After I left the Dark Court, I didn’t want to live with my sister. I was too ashamed to tell her I’d been kicked out after I failed to take over the role of duke and that a vampire had nearly killed me. And I’d rather die than ask Knight for help. I wandered London alone, half-starving, sleeping in the open until Rothbart found me.”

“He found you?”

More shame glowed around him. “He did. He wanted to recruit me to help him bring down Ravenhill. He said the things Ravenhill said about him weren’t true, that he hadn’t hurt anyone, and that if we worked together, we could take him down and start a new Dark Court, fairer for everyone.”

“And you agreed?” I controlled my voice out of respect for Lucy.

“I didn’t. I told him to leave me alone. But he returned over and over until I agreed. At first, because I was desperate, but I’m not stupid. I was aware he wanted to manipulate me. Then I thought that, if I stayed with Rothbart, I could give Ravenhill good information on him in exchange for being treated better in the court or get the position of earl.”

His choices were questionable, but I let him talk.

“Then a vampire started to kill his minions. Three or four people died every week. Rothbart became worried although some men had never worked with him. They’d been common criminals. Hell, I was worried too. I thought Ravenhill was behind the killings and that I would be next. Besides, Rothbart treated me worse than Ravenhill.” He showed me the bruises on his arms and neck. “As you said, he feeds on people’s pain and fear. He hurt me to grow stronger while I grew weaker. My werewolf powers struggle to heal my body.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I let him abuse me.”

My anger vanished at his deep, genuine pain and sorrow. “Rothbart is a deceiver. He charms people and forces them to do his bidding. I know what it is like to be in his presence.”

He blinked and sniffled. “I stayed with him. He paid me for small jobs. Nothing violent or illegal. He wanted me to spy on people, mostly young women, and report to him.”

“He was searching for a new victim, a woman to trick and kill.” I wondered if Rothbart had ordered one of his minions to follow me as well.

Graves hid his bruises, shame burning in his aura. “I didn’t earn his trust, but I’m a good tracker. I didn’t sleep or eat for days, following him. Discovering his secrets was my obsession, the only thing that kept me alive.”

“Did you learn anything relevant about him?”

He raised his head. “I know where to find him.”

23

THROUGH THE FOG

Irene

Alex had reacted quite well to Graves’s confession, all things considered. He’d merely growled and grown fangs, fists clenching. I supposed that the facts Bethlen was still at large and the fog still engulfed the palace had taken priority over his urge to punch Graves. According to the werewolf, the sorcerer had a system of safe houses scattered around and through London—an extensive selection of different places. Storming them required a strategy.

But the most pressing matter was Raven Hall. If we wanted to catch Bethlen, keep Lucy safe, and organise an attack on Rothbart, we needed our palace back.

So here we were, watching Raven Hall from a hill from which the palace was visible. Or rather, from which it should be visible.

The fog was an impenetrable wall, seemingly made of concrete, broken only by the smoky snakes. They kept going through it, disappearing and reappearing like a living ouroboros. It was a disturbing sight, which didn’t escape the notice of humans. Crowsbury was mostly populated by supernatural beings and they’d helped keep out intruders and busybodies, but The Illustrated London News had published an article about a strange fog spreading on the outskirts of London. We had to get rid of the fog before someone came to investigate the matter.

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have to fight the strongest vampire in the world, and we don’t have a safe place to lock him up.”

Darius clicked his tongue. “The dungeon would be the perfect place. There’s a cell deep underground, reinforced with silver to prevent a vampire from escaping, and another with iron for sorcerers in case we need a place to detain Rothbart.”

I rubbed my goose-bumped arms. “Where is Carabosse? Doesn’t she need to eat constantly?”

“Unfortunately, no, she doesn’t.” Darius scratched his chin. “Carabosse’s magic comes from the outside. Mine from the inside.”

Alex and I gave him puzzled looks.

“Her magic works like a parasite,” Darius said. “It draws energy from the environment, depleting it. My magic comes from my blood. That’s why I need food to fuel it.”

“But that means…” I shivered as the smoky snakes seemed to grow bigger. “This fog will keep expanding, draining energy from the trees, animals, and people.”

He grimaced. “Yes. If we only knew why Carabosse summoned it.”

Alex pointed in the direction of Willow Grove. “She goes to the cemetery often. Did she lose a loved one?”

I perked up. “I’ve seen her crying in front of the grave of a girl called Aurora.”