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She picked shreds of wood out of her bloodied skin, then tilted her head. “That was mean.”
She whipped her head around to look at the front door, wide-eyed. Viktor hurried to Maddox’s side, despite the bits of brick embedded in his arm from where he’d hit the wall. Freya ran out the door, and I let out a sob.
“Get away from us,” I croaked as Viktor placed his hand over the bruise forming on Maddox’s head.
“He’ll be fine. He’s breathing, Elle. It looks worse than it is. He’s just unconscious.”
“You’re a monster. You’re like her… a?—”
“Freya ran because she heard them coming. The council. Elle, they’re about to enter. Do not tell them what happened.”
I didn’t even want to imagine what he would do if I did say anything. “I shot Alexander, her boyfriend or whatever, in the shoulder.”
“He’s gone. I heard him go out the back. She would have gone to him.”
“How?” My eyebrows furrowed.
The front door creaked open, and three members of the council stood, slack-jawed. “What happened here?” asked the first.
Viktor spoke first. “Intruders trying to steal things from the vaults.”
It was half-true.
“The floor,” said a man in his seventies as he stood in front of the massive dip in the ground.
“They used dark magic. A curse hit the floor. Our friend here needs to go to the infirmary.”
The man looked at me. “Are you okay, miss?”
I looked at Viktor, whose glare sent a shiver down my spine, then I gulped. “Yes. Fine.”
Thunder rumbled through the gray-purple sky. Thin dark clouds stretched to the horizon, where the sun hid behind the storm. Rain splashed mud around my ankles, releasing a rich, earthy scent. Tall trees dizzied up, their bare branches holding no shelter from the thick droplets hammering down. I appreciated the rain more than ever, as it shielded the tears that trickled down my face. Breathless, I closed my eyes, finding steadiness.
The first chance I got, I’d hightailed it out of there and down to the woods. The murderer was Freya all along, and she was gone now—probably far away, as the council had come to Deadwood. It was nice being back between the trees, even if the flashbacks of finding Bryan’s body forced their way into my mind.
How could I have been so blind? The Lor. His incredible skills with weapons. The knowledge. The way he seamlessly blended into our society after supposedly coming from Salvius. He was a god. A ruthless, vengeful god who sacrificed people and had planned on killing me.
Edmund was on his way home with Dora and Alma after getting a magic quill about what had happened. Fortunately, whatever was in those vaults she or they were after was still there. Maddox was staying overnight in the infirmary but would be okay. He only knew about Alexander. He didn’t know anything about Freya or Viktor and had been unconscious during the fight.
“Elle.”
I jumped. He’d followed me. I stepped back, almost tripping on a log. “I didn’t tell them.” I swallowed thickly. “Please, don’t.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone softened. “Is that what you think?”
I opened my eyes, flexing my fingers at my side. What could I possibly say? I felt as if someone had reached their fingers into my chest and twisted them around my heart. “You’re a god. You lied about everything. You planned on killing me.”
Wind-swept rain hit me from the side, soaking me through. I looked him up and down. His black hair curled on his forehead, leaking rain down the side of his face. His white shirt clung to his muscles, showing his skin and tattoos beneath, tattoos marking his life, a history spanning centuries. “I was never going to kill you.”
I hesitated. She’d said he was going to kill me, but then he could have killed me any time and hadn’t. He’d stopped Freya from hurting me, too. But he was dangerous.
“You must have a lot of questions.”
I held my breath.
He tilted his head. “Please talk to me.”
“Which one are you?”
