Page 40 of Pride: Kneel Before None

“Are you going to tell me why we’re here?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

Sitting up straighter, he took a fortifying sip from his nearly empty glass before replying, “Dinner. Drinks⁠—”

“Dancing?” I ventured a guess.

His lips quirked up into a smile. “Dancing’s later.”

The piano in the center of Cinders & Marrow’s opulent dining room, shining in shades of gold and silver, continued its enticing melody. It shifted to something that reminded me of a fairy bouncing along glass lily pads, preceding Ace’s change of topic.

“Tell me more about your brother.” The question felt innocent on its face, but nothing that came from Ace Reynard’s mouth was ever so innocuous in nature.

Sure, I’d play his game. But I’d also be more than happy to win it, too.

“What’s there to tell? He’s older, sandy blond hair, Virgo, and enjoys long strolls along the scenic ramparts of Blackscale Prison.” My response was all snark and two very generous pours of wine.

Okay, maybe the sandy blond hair was a stretch. The only sand that matched his shaggy strands would be from Lucifer’s blood-soaked sandbox.

“Cut the shit, Eve,” he rumbled, the first signs of fraying impatience. “I need to know why Rip and his cretins give a damn. I can’t protect you if I don’t have all the cards.”

I quirked up a brow as I peered over my glass, letting my gaze fixate on him. After the Chablis cooled my throat that had remained parched all evening, I set the wine off to the side.

“You mean you can’t protect yourself.” The challenge lay bare between us. Let him try to deny it.

The growl from the center of his chest didn’t just rattle the table we shared but also made the keys of the Baby Grand shiver off key.

“Careful, Little Spade. You keep talking about things you don’t understand. I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee right here. Audience be damned, I will turn your ass a shade of red that rivals my runes.”

The threat shouldn’t have sent a flush creeping over my neck, but the evidence refused to fade.

I huffed in exasperation, easier to feign annoyance than concede defeat.

“Alright, you want details? Fine. Tighe was looking for easy money. Started hanging out with these idiotic friends of his.”

Leaning forward with interest, Ace asked, “Which friends?”

“I don’t know! Friends.” I rolled my eyes but pressed on. “The type that party hard together then wake up the next day either buried in a pile of naked bodies or evaluating all their life choices over a porcelain bowl.”

“How did he get tangled up with Rip? He’s not the type to be big into nightlife brothel runs.”

I shrugged. His guess was as good as mine.

“Tighe ran a lot of packages. Figured if he was going club hopping all over the city, he may as well get paid while doing it. It turns out, some of the packages contained packets of Glayze.”

Looking up at Ace, there was something reminiscent of thunder clouds settling in his expression. Whether it was at Tighe’s side hustle or the mention of the drug, I wasn’t certain.

Circling back to his original question, I reasserted my brother’s innocence in this whole set of unfortunate circumstances. “He swears he didn’t realize what he was distributing.”

My fingers tightened around the stem of my wine glass at the memory of my brother’s teal eyes pleading with me to believe him when they hauled him off to Blackscale.

“Some hotshot in a suit hopped up on Glayze, got overconfident. Decided he was powerful enough to launch a siege on the Concord, bringing violence to the doorstep of every member.”

Ace chuffed out. “Idiot. What species was he?”

“A revenant.”

Understanding washed over Ace’s face.

Revenants were vindictive and persistent little fuckers, glorified corpses raised from the dead with bones to pick—sometimes literally. One under the influence of Glayze would amplify that mindset until the revenant became power-drunk and convinced the world owed it submission.