Page 68 of Till Death


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“Afraid to lose again?”

I pressed my hand to my chest dramatically. “Oh, yes. I’m so worried. Failing at this game is ten times worse than oh, I don’t know, Drexel opening one of these doors and finding us down here.”

“I’ve told you he won’t,” he said, face serious. All hints of play gone. “It’ll be one of three people: Hollis—which would be ideal—Ebert Roper, who might not matter if I bribe him well enough, or Cassius. Cassius will be a problem. He doesn’t care about anything but the boss’s favor. He’d run over his own mother with a team of horses if it won him a single nod. He’s not bound to Drexel. His mind is twisted, Deyanira. If he gets a hold of you, he’ll… well, he’s just not going to.”

“If he gets ahold of me, he’s standing far too close. You can worry about Paesha and Thea, Hollis and your mother, Quill and even Boo, but you don’t have to worry about me. There’s not a weak bone in my body.”

He moved in, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You’re still vulnerable. You married a stranger after thirty minutes of persuasion.”

My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t argue that.

“I don’t say that to be mean, you know? I say it because it’s true, and it’s a weakness. And he’ll use any weakness to get to you, just like the boss will. And Cassius is only the stepping stone. Drexel is the real problem. You have to stay away from him. He can’t know where you’re weak. He can’t speak to you. Ever.”

“I’ve been avoiding him my whole life. I know that.”

He brought heavy hands to my shoulders before lifting my chin to gaze into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him. If he binds you, he’ll make you kill anyone that stands in his way. Anyone at any time. He’ll take advantage until you have no soul left, Dey.”

“I promise. I was weak one time, and I learned my lesson the hard way.”

Smoothing his palms down my arms, he grabbed my hands and held them between us. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you can trust me. And you can trust Paesha.”

“You do understand what you’re saying, though, right? Since the night we were bound, the Maestro has been punishing you. But he forced you to marry me. If he wants me, you have to deliver. And no one understands the magical compulsion more than I do. That means I can’t trust you. I also…” I paused, wondering how far I could take this. But we were at a place and time we may never get back. Where neither of us could run, and we weren’t trying to hurt each other.

“Was that a complete thought?”

His smile, so rare behind his dark features, made me weak. I didn’t want to break the fragile strand of kindness between us. But I also didn’t want the secrets. And he’d been with Ro, whether he wanted to talk about it or not.

“I saw you kill a man in Perth, Orin. I know you’re a Death Lord.”

He laughed. A genuine, full-belly laugh that had to have been heard on the streets above us. I pulled away, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know what you saw, but I think we both know you’re the only person here beholden to Death.” He flashed his bare hands in the air. “No names here.”

I studied him for a second, searching for signs of a lie. “I know what I saw.”

“You’re wrong, Nightmare. I’m not a Death Lord. I’ve never been given a name by him.”

“So, you’re going to stand here one moment and tell me I can trust you when you know I can’t because you are not your own person, but then still lie to me?”

He pulled me toward him. I wanted to fight, to push away and demand answers. But the way his broken expression held me, I just couldn’t. “I need you to understand that I cannot speak to you about this.”

I searched his pleading eyes for the truth. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

Whatever the truth was, the Maestro had forbidden him from speaking of it. And at the very least, I understood magic. He was bound. And that was that.

“Okay,” I said, softening. “I won’t push.”

A creek at the opposite end of the tunnel leading to the warehouse snapped us both apart, shattering the moment as we launched into action.

“Stick to the plan,” Orin hissed. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

“I’m not an idiot. Go.”

He ran to meet whoever opened the door. And though I was strictly warned I couldn’t kill anyone without giving myself away, as if that was my only skill, I still loosened the strap on Chaos, deciding to take my chances. If the guard he was worried about happened to come down, I’d strike first and ask questions later. Murder was not a skill. But dancing around it was.

The grinding of stone on stone filled the tunnel. I was poised, ready to attack, should Orin give any signs of distress, but rather than a fight, a clear, sharp whistle echoed through the space. My shoulders dropped. No danger.

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