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She stormed forward and slapped him across the cheek, hard enough to leave a red mark against his pale skin. “I will never forgive you for what you did today.”
Every king and queen on the cards scowled or covered their mouths in shock. Some looked as if they might even march out of their cards and attack, but Jacks waved them off with a lazy hand as something that was probably supposed to be sadness flickered in his silver-blue eyes.
“You were never in danger, Donatella.” His voice was far more serious than usual. “I knew he wouldn’t let me kill you.”
“That doesn’t justify what you did!” She tried not to shout, tried not to show how much he’d hurt her, how much she cared. She’d never meant to trust him, but he’d been there when her mother had died, he’d cared for her when Legend hadn’t. She knew he was a Fate, she knew he had little to no conscience, but she’d started to believe he was trying to fight against his nature for her. “What would you have done if he refused to give you his power? Would you have let me die?”
“I knew he wouldn’t refuse.”
“That’s not an answer.” Tella clamped her hands into fists. She wanted to slap him again—she wanted to tackle him to the ground and take the entire house of cards down with him and hurt him the way that he’d hurt her. But Legend was right, Jacks was an immortal and she was clearly his obsession. There was no good ending to their story. He wasn’t even capable of the same emotions as she was. If he felt any guilt, or if he had any real feelings for her, he’d have never tried to kill her.
“Why do you care?” Jacks said. “You just said you’d never forgive me.”
“You’re still ignoring the question.”
Jacks rubbed the cheek where she’d slapped him as he leaned back against one of his paper kings. “Would you even believe me if I said no, that I wouldn’t let you die—that I would never let you die?”
“No,” Tella said. “I won’t ever believe you again. And I want you to stay out of my dreams.” She knew he’d made a blood vow not to use his powers on her, but if he wanted to she knew he’d find a way around the vow, like he did with everything else. “How did you even get in here tonight?”
The paper king that Jacks leaned against gave Tella a crooked smile. “You and I have a connection. I’ve never needed permission to enter your dreams.”
Tella’s blood ran cold. “No, we do not have a connection. And after this, I never want to see you again.”
The paper king’s smile faded, but Jacks looked undisturbed. “You say that now, but you’ll come back to me.”
40
Donatella
Time was rushing faster than blood could pour out of a sliced artery. In two days, the Fallen Star would make his claim for the throne—unless they managed to stop him.
Yesterday, the Fates had continued to torment the city by torching every church in the Temple District that did not worship one of the Fates. The air was still tinged brown from smoke. The flames had been put out by a band of brave citizens before the fire could spread to other parts of Valenda, but the damage had marked a fresh tipping point. It was exactly as Scarlett had predicted would happen in her last note. People were ready for a deliverer. When the Fallen Star appeared, all of Valenda would think he was their savior.
Tella prayed to all the saints that she would find a way to kill him inside the Immortal Library, before they ran out of time. Unfortunately, it seemed the Fated library still did not wish to be found. Or perhaps it had never been in Valenda to begin with.
Tella spied an untouched statue of the Prince of Hearts as they searched the scorched Temple districts for symbols of the library. The statue bore little resemblance to Jacks. Its face looked much kinder. Its cheeks were round instead of hollow. Its smile looked impish rather than evil, and its lips didn’t appear quite so sharp.
Legend pressed a warm hand to the small of her back. He hadn’t stopped touching her since the day before. It would have been smarter to separate, at least by a few feet, as they searched for symbols to lead them into the library. But it seemed Legend had adopted a new strategy when it came to winning Tella. “Ready to move on, sweetheart?”
Tella narrowed her eyes.
Legend gave her an amazed smile. “What about ‘dear heart,’ or ‘angel’?”
“I think we can both agree I’m far from an angel. And you’re not going to convince me to become an immortal with a term of endearment.” She pulled away, but he quickly grabbed the sash around her waist and wound it around his fist to draw her close. It was cloudburst-blue, the same color as her striped dress. Yesterday’s drab clothes hadn’t kept them unnoticed, so Tella opted for prettier attire today.
“You’re right, I think ‘little devil’ is more fitting.” He kept reeling her to him, dark eyes full of laughter. He didn’t seem worried that the world around them was literally crumbling—he looked at her as if she was all that mattered.
“Please tell me I’m interrupting something,” Jacks drawled as he stepped out from behind the Bleeding Throne fountain directly across from them. The basin was dry—its crimson waters probably used to put out fires—leaving behind bits of cracked red that would have normally matched Jacks’s haphazard attire. But for once, the Prince of Hearts looked immaculate. His golden hair was neatly tied back, his clothes were pressed, his boots were polished, and his tailored white suit was the color people usually associated with angels.
Legend instantly moved in front of Tella like a shield.
Jacks’s pale lips fell into a frown. “I’m not here to make any threats—I keep my vows. I just have a gift for Donatella.”
“I don’t want any gifts from you,” she spat.
Jacks tugged at his cravat, dissolving his impeccable appearance with one frustrated pull. “I know you hate me again, but hopefully this will prove that I’m not really your enemy.” He held out a bound scroll of paper. “This is why you haven’t been able to find the Immortal Library.”
Tella pointedly ignored the scroll. “We’re done making deals with you.”
