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“Siblings?” he questions. “What about her mother?”
“No siblings, I think. Her mum died giving birth to her.” It suddenly dawns on me how little I know about Alize. “I don’t know anything else about her family.”
Once he’s finished with his grapes, he pulls out a stack of files and a notebook from a drawer underneath the desk, along with a pen. Lev writes something down with a nod.
“Her father, that’s what makes the Kingmaker Society interested.”
“What about him?”
Lev grins, like I’ve asked him a question he’s been dying to answer.
He shuffles through the papers in his manila folder like a child sorting through Christmas gifts. “We think she may be the daughter of someone we’ve been after for a while.” He plucks a photo from the pile and slides it across the table to me. “MeetLe Bourreau,the executioner. Over the years he’s had many identities, but his real name is Michel Moreau.”
The picture is very obviously dated, and has been blown up to the size of an A5 sheet of paper. It looks like it was taken from a video. The man in the photo has pale skin and dark wavy hair falling over his shoulders, with a slight frown on his lips. His dark eyes are focused on something beyond the camera, something he isn’t happy about.
At first, I want to tell Lev that he must be mistaken. This man looks nothing like Alize. But the longer I look at the photo, the more I see some resemblance. Aside from the things she must have inherited from her mum—the skin tone, the hazel eyes, the full lips—she does look like him.
They have the same nose and eye shape, though on him they are shifty. Even his annoyed expression in this photo reminds me of the way Alize looks at me these days. This mancouldbe her father. Though Lev hasn’t expounded, his nickname alone tells me what I need to know.
A man doesn’t get a nickname like the executioner from killing chickens.
“Michel was a Grand Master of the Kingmaker Society,” he says. I can’t suppress my surprise. My eyes widen. “He defected two decades ago and has been in the wind ever since.”
Grand Master is the highest rank anyone can achieve in the Kingmaker Society. It’s coveted, and only afterdecadesof loyal service to the brotherhood are you even considered for it. The last part of his sentence, though, gives me an idea of where he’s going with this.
The Kingmaker Society is a way of life. There’s no leaving if you’ve been inducted. You gain access to too many secrets, too much information to simply walk away. Anyone who wants to leave is killed—it’s law.
Well, it should be law. The fact that Alize’s father is still alive means…
“He’s a fugitive,” Lev says simply. “Every tangible lead we’ve had about his whereabouts fizzle before we can find any real details. He’s been using the treasure trove of information he had access to as part of the Society to make allies with governments and other…unsavory players to keep himself hidden.” For the first time, he starts to look like the savage I know he is. He frowns, baring his teeth. “There have always been rumors about him having a child, some of the members even think that’s why he defected.” His eyes glisten menacingly. “We were never sure, until now.”
“How can you be sure that this is Alize’s father?” I ask.
My fingers shake beneath the table. All of this information, there’s only one reason why Lev would share this with me. Still, he needs to come out and say it.
“I’m not,” he says quickly. “But this is the first tangible lead we’ve had in years. A mysterious girl younger than twenty shows up at Saint Frederic University, with a resemblance to Michel? She lies about her identity and when her real name is revealed, it turns out that she’s a Moreau?” He pulls a smile. “That seems like fate to me.”
My neck grows hot.
“What does this have to do with me?”
Lev leans back in his chair. “You clearly have affection for the girl, else you wouldn’t be screwing up your prospects to keep her from death’s door. Fortunately, neither I nor the Kingmaker Society have a grouse withher.” A little bit of the tension in my shoulders dissipates. “I think that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
My stomach is queasy.
“I will get you re-elected.” Lev begins. “In exchange, you will provide me with some of the girl’s DNA—a strand of her hair, a cup she’s used, anything really—that we can use to confirm her connection to Michel.”
“And if she isn’t his daughter?”
Lev shrugs, smiling. “Consider my help a gift to you. Like I said, you’re the best option we have for a new member of the Society. Currently, there are an even number of members following the recent death of a Grand Master. We will have to induct someone this year to preserve the integrity of the Society—we can’t have important votes ending in a tie.” His smile falls. “I would rather you than Liam Keller.”
The mention of his name has the hair on the back of my neck standing on edge. For as long as I can remember, it’s always been me against Keller. I have to winthisfight. This is the one that will define my life. Passing up a sure win would be foolish.
“And if she is?”
He doesn’t need to tell me what will happen. I’m not stupid.
They’re going to fucking kill him.
