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“I can help you,” Zarion told him as Grace’s hand closed around the weapon.
“You have nothing.”
Grace moved toward Zarion.
He danced away from her. “I know things! I know Regin’s plans!”
“Regin’s plans are dust,” Faris replied.
“He still has the immortal artifacts. He can still make a move against you,” Zarion argued. “But I know where he’s keeping them. I can tell you. If you let me live!”
“I can just take everything you know from your mind. And then Grace can kill you,” Faris said with a vicious smile.
“If you try to read my mind, I’ve spelled myself to die. And then you’ll get nothing.”
Faris’s eyes hardened. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play this, I will find the artifacts without your help.” He nodded at Grace. “Just kill him already.”
“If I die, you’ll never be able to lift the curse on Stash!” Zarion shouted.
Faris laughed. “I don’t care about your son.”
“But Leda does,” Zarion pointed out.
“Yeah, I care about Stash. And way more than you do, apparently.” I frowned at him. “Very well, Zarion. We accept your terms.”
“You cannot accept his terms,” Faris protested as I slapped a pair of those fancy magic-nullifying cuffs on his brother’s wrists.
“Sure, I can,” I told him. “You just saw me do it.”
“I am the King of the Gods.”
“And I’m going to save Stash from this curse. That’s worth more than your petty vengeance.”
“It’s not my vengeance,” Faris argued. “It’s Grace’s.”
“Of course it’s your vengeance,” I said. “You feel betrayed and want Zarion to suffer. But I’ve found a better use for him. He will help us cure Stash and lead us to Regin’s arsenal of immortal artifacts, so we can get them out of the hands of a dangerous psychopath. Everyone wins. Well, except for Regin, but we don’t care about him, do we? It’s a good plan. You can’t argue with that.”
Faris stiffened. “I certainly can.”
Grace set her hand on his arm. “Leda is right.”
“I concur,” Ronan chimed in. “And I am confident the council would as well.”
“This is foolish,” Faris said, but he didn’t make another move against his brother.
“You are wise, Leda Pandora,” Zarion told me.
I pivoted around, hitting him with my hardest no-bullshit glower. “I will hold you to the terms of our deal, Zarion. If you don’t fulfill your part, I’ll help Faris crack open your mind like an egg,” I promised him. “And then he can do whatever he wants with you.”
“Of course,” Zarion said through tight lips.
A shot went off beside me. I turned to look. Grace stood there, the gun in her hand pulsing with dark magic. And across the grand hall, Ava lay on the floor, clutching the wound in her arm. She wasn’t wearing the teleporting bracelets anymore. Someone must have taken them from her.
“Those bullets are made with Venom,” Ava hissed as Grace strode toward her with angry steps. “They can’t kill me.”
“No, they can’t kill you.” Grace pulled her roughly to her feet. “However, they can put holes in you. And then I can finish the job.”
Something akin to fear flashed in Ava’s eyes. “You made a deal with Zarion.” She swallowed hard. “I can offer the same.” Her gaze flittered to me. “I can cure Bella.”
