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His gaze raked over her as he stood in front of her. He took her all in with a considering way that had her wanting to sink deeper into her baggy clothes and disappear into the shadows, because the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something uncomfortable and unwelcome jittered in her chest as his dark golden gaze met hers.
She wanted to run, but the self-preservation instinct she had so much pride in was no match for the way his gaze pinned her to the spot.
“Al, I presume?” he said, his voice smooth and sounding vaguely...amused, when Al didn’t have the first clue what would be amusing about the situation.
She felt a bit like she’d placed her life into his hands, and she hadn’t even spoken.
She gave herself a second to get her bearings, to focus on the task at hand and not the gold of his eyes. The feeling of beingtrappedand wanting to lean into it. She tried to speak in her usual insouciant low tones but found her voice much higher than it should be. “Yes, I’m Al.”
His beautiful mouth curved, likely at the shake in her tone. “Excellent.”
Lysias Balaskas found himself wholly and uncharacteristically uncertain about thisAl. Though he had heard nothing but positives about the boy and his ability to find even the most hidden information, something about the way he stared made Lysias feel even more aware than he usually was.
As a man bent on revenge, he wasalwaysaware. Of who looked at him. Of what people thought. Of where he was and how he moved. Because unlike most people who walked these streets, Lysias had only one goal in his life.
And he allowednodistractions.
“Why don’t we take a bit of a walk, my boy,” Lysias offered in an effort to perhaps jolt the boy into finding his wits about him.
Lysias tended to have this effect on people. He knew he was good-looking—add money and power, and people often found themselves at a loss for words. It was just an everyday occurrence for him. Though he’d expected perhapsmoreof the boy he’d heard had uncovered the secrets of some of the most powerful and dangerous men in Greece.
“You have a job for me,” this Al said, taking a step next to him. Lysias noted the way the boy’s eyes surveyed the crowd. Calm, cool, assessing. Looking for danger.
Well, that was more like it. Clearly he’d sussed out who Lysias was and, maybe after his initial surprise, would now behave the canny spy Lysias had been promised.
“There is a very old rumor I would like you to look into for me,” he said, walking through the crowd as though he had not a care in the world. But his attention was on Al—the way the boy moved, what he looked at and how he reacted to everything Lysias had to say. “It involves the kingdom of Kalyva.”
There was no flicker of surprise or reaction. Only a shrug. “I do not know this place.”
“It is a small island. Tiny really. They are very independent, very private. And ruled by a king.” And Lysias wanted to destroy said king, with his bare hands. But since that was not an option, he would settle for subterfuge to get his revenge. To enact all the destruction King Diamandis deserved.
“And what do you want with it?”
“That is not your concern. Your concern is to find out everything you can on the murder of Princess Zandra Agonas on Kalyva twenty years ago.”
“You want me to get you information on some old murder that happened on an island I’ve never even heard of?” Al asked suspiciously. He looked up, but the minute their gazes met, the boy looked back down. “Seems a stretch.”
“The entire royal family was murdered in a bloody coup. Except the current king. The rumor is Princess Zandra’s body was the only one not recovered,” Lysias said, unconcerned by Al’s skepticism. “I need to know that this is true beyond a doubt. It will require you to find a way to get close enough to King Diamandis to discover the absolute truth, or what he believes to be the truth anyway. I will cover any costs on top of the already generous payout my man discussed with you.”
The boy’s mouth turned down, and there was just...something off about him. Lysias felt that old itch between his shoulder blades. A telltale sign that something was amiss.
But he had been assured of this boy’s skill and, having once been a boy on these streets himself, knew what a smart one could do with an opportunity.
Besides, Lysias would make sure he had the upper hand.
He always did.
So he would continue forward. His revenge on King Diamandis had been twenty years in the making, and no matter what Al found or didn’t, Lysias would never give up.
The king was the reason his parents had been killed, the reason Lysias had scrabbled on the streets for the remainder of his childhood after being exiled from Kalyva.
The king would pay. For everything.
“You will travel to Kalyva with one of my men. Tonight. Then you will set about finding what the king knows. You will report to Michalis, who will, in turn, report to me. No one can know about our connection once you’re on Kalyva. Trust me when I say that it would be as bad for you as it would for me.”
The boy pursed his lips and kept walking. He glanced behind them once, so Lysias did the same, wondering what the boy was worried about. A tail? The police?
“Travel costs extra,” he said at last.
