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Dozan shifted behind her. “Your last night?”
Kerrigan ignored him. He had to have known that she was leaving with Fordham in the morning. He just wanted to have it out with her about joining the House of Shadows, a place that hated humans and half-Fae alike. No, not just hated them, that tortured and killed them. A thousand years ago, the Society had reviled the House of Shadows so much for their continued enslavement of the humans and half-Fae that they went to war against them—the Great War. The House of Shadows had lost and were trapped forever behind a hidden magical barrier. Until Fordham appeared in the dragon tournament.
Now in a twist of fate, Kerrigan was one of them, and the House of Shadows beckoned. It had been the right decision at the time. Between a lifetime in Bryonica, chained to a life she’d been discarded from by her father at five years old, or a new life with Fordham, she’d chosen Fordham. Even though now, things were problematic.
Kerrigan turned to leave, but Dozan reached out quick as a viper and latched on to her arm. The one still sticky with ale. His face showed distaste. “You can’t go run off into the night alone.”
“And why not?”
He removed his hand from her, brushing it against a handkerchief from his pocket. “Don’t you remember what happened when you went off alone after the last tournament?”
Kerrigan glared right back at him. Didn’t she remember? How could she forget? She’d been twelve years old when the first human in history had won the dragon tournament and then left the next day. Kerrigan had gone out to celebrate the victory, was cornered by a group of Red Masks, and brutally assaulted. She’d thought for so long that Dozan had saved her that night, but it turned out that she’d saved herself by the force of her own magic.
That was the night of her first vision. The night of her first using her spirit magic. The start of everything to come.
But things were different now. She was a fighter, a skilled magic user, a member of the Society. Not that she was naive enough to believe that would protect her, but it was not the same as it had been five years ago. She’d made sure of that.
“I’ll be fine.”
Dozan nodded his head at Clover. “Go with her. Ensure she makes it safe.”
“What is Clover going to do that I can’t?” Kerrigan demanded. She winced at Clover’s irritated face. “Nothing against you, Clove.”
Clover was a hundred percent perfectly human. She didn’t have a lick of magic in her veins. Few did in Alandria. Even most half-Fae only had enough for parlor tricks. Kerrigan was an anomaly because she was strong enough with all four elements to join the Society. Another target on her back.
“She can watch your back,” Dozan said. His finger slipped down her jaw, tilting her head up to look into his bright eyes.
“Dozan,” she growled.
He grinned wickedly and released her. “Do try to stay out of trouble and come back to me in one piece, Red.”
“I’m not coming back to you.” She huffed at the insufferable arrogance and then tipped her head at Clover. “Let’s go.”
She refused to look back as they left the Wastes the way they’d come in. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She also didn’t want him to see how much she was flagging. Those drinks had really knocked her on her ass. Maybe it was better to have Clover with her.
“And you get on me for antagonizing Hadrian,” Clover said with a snort.
“Dozan is … Dozan.”
“Yeah, and he wants you bad.” She whistled low.
“He wants my power. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“That’s not what you were saying a year ago when you ended up in his bed.”
“Hey!”
Clover cackled. “All right. I’ll leave it be, but one day, you two are going to have to figure out this sexual tension. It’s uncomfortable to be around.”
Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “That’s not what’s important right now. It’s that Basem Nix is dead.”
“Gods,” she whispered.
Kerrigan couldn’t have said it better herself. The gods themselves needed to answer for this crime after all Kerrigan had gone through to get him in prison. There would be no public trial to show the world that what he’d done was wrong. He’d be buried six feet under with no justice.
They passed out of the Dregs and back down the main thoroughfare through Central. Kinkadia was made up of six main quadrants—Dregs, Central, Row, Riverfront, Artisan Village, and Draco Mountain. Row lay to the east, filled with wealthy, aristocratic mansions and sprawling parks. The Riverfront spread across the South River. The newly wealthy who couldn’t gain access on the Row were building copycat homes along the waterfront. To the southeast was one of Kerrigan’s favorite parts of the city—Artisan Village—with the Opera house, bookstores, and little Painter’s Row. Finally, they came upon Draco Mountain—the home of the Society and dragons as well as the tournament arena. It was the largest peak in the semicircle of mountains that surrounded the Kinkadian valley. And it was home.
