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He shrugged. “Had to, mate. I got wind there was Gancanagh’s Dust being smuggled on those ships.”
I raised an eyebrow. That opened a whole host of questions and perhaps answered some as well. “Not yours, I presume.”
Cross looked a bit wounded. “Of course not. You know I wouldn’t, and if it was, why would I sink my own product?”
I nodded. “You’re correct. My apologies.”
Gancanagh’s Dust was the worst drug known to our continent. A single dose caused insatiable lust, obsession, and euphoria, but if used too often or over a long period of time, it would lead to madness, uncontrolled rage, and violent hallucinations.
“I don’t want that shit in my city,” Cross muttered, looking more serious than he had all evening.
“Your city?”
He waved me off. “You know what I mean.”
I did. He meant he viewed Inbetwixt as his—or as good as. Perhaps this should have concerned me more, but I’d always known Cross was ambitious, and I’d rather him managing things than the current lord and lady. “Who was moving the dust, then?”
“Don’t know yet, but I’ll find out. It’s being handled. Kaius is working on it, actually.”
I nodded curtly. As long as it didn’t take away from finding Ambrose, then that was fine—good, even.
“Fine.” Turning on my heel, I marched toward the stairs. “If that’s all, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Sci,” Cross yelled after me.
“What?”
“Make sure she stays in her room. If she goes wandering around, you know I can’t guarantee her safety.”
My lip curled. “I wouldn’t worry about Lonnie so much as your children. If anyone so much as touches her, it will be the end of the guild before it’s the end of her.”
“I know,” Cross said. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Just keep her in her damn room, and there won’t be any problems.”
“Noted.”
Halfway across the room, I gave up walking and vanished into the shadows, reappearing instantly in the upper hallway of Cross’s home. My feet thundered against the carpeted floor as I passed room after room, following little more than instinct and the faint trace of a honey-sweet scent. Lonnie was sure to try and run the moment I told her I was planning to stay in the room with her, and I was already running through ways to convince her. Thus far, I could think of nothing more likely to work than tying her to the headboard.
For the sake of the fucking Source, perhaps I should simply give all this up now and send her back to the castle.
Trying to force the outcome of prophecies clearly hadn’t succeeded so far, and holding Lonnie here until Ambrose saw her in the city was starting to feel flimsier the more I thought about it. That may have been the blood influence again—or perhaps merely me, this time. I’d never claimed to be entirely free of corruption.
A crash sounded from somewhere down the hall, and I froze, ice filling my veins.
My pulse sped up, and I lurched forward, moving so quickly toward the door the hallway blurred. There was a second loud thud, followed by her voice echoing through the hallway. “Don’t fucking touch me,darling.”
What the fuck?
A haze of black spots lingered on the edges of my vision, a haze of rage clouding everything. Who would have the audacity to lay their hands on her?
Reaching her door, I crashed through, distantly grateful it was already hanging open. Lonnie knelt atop the bedding, her hair a wild tangle, her back bared, and her long legs curled around a Fae male. Her weight pinned him beneath her, his throat compressed between her bent knee and the mattress. The cause of the commotion was instantly evident as she bashed an old book into his skull with a similar force to how I’d once seen her wield a crown.
My anger burned brighter than ever, consuming me and leaving no room for anything else. I could hardly see as I lurched forward, fingers numb with rising magic. Darkness rose near my feet, mingling with the black tunnel obscuring my vision. I raised a hand to strike, then stopped, my mind reeling. I stared in disbelief.
It was my own bloody face that stared back at me from the bed, pupils blown wide. A wave of nausea and confusion rolled through me as Lonnie lifted her eyes to meet mine, holding the book tightly in her trembling hands.
Her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to take deep breaths. Her lips parted, and I watched the calculation going on in her face—not shock, exactly, but confirmation.
Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I hate fairies.”
