Page 74 of Marked

I shook my head and waved at the courtyard ahead of us. “Paul’s right. This can wait. Let’s go.”

With a grunt, my brother spun on his heel and walked out of the alley. I quickened my pace to catch up.

“Are we going to talk about why we’re avoiding you know who?” I asked Paul.

“Nope,” he said.

“Does it have anything to do with why we’re slinking around town like common criminals in the dead of night or is your avoidance for personal reasons?” I’d always wondered about the closeness between the queen and my charming brother over these last few years. He always denied there was anything more than what there was supposed to be.

The problem was, as much as I loved my brother, as much as it was us against the world growing up, I didn’t believe him. He’d always have my back, but everything else was shrouded in shadows.

“We’re not slinking,” Paul snapped over his shoulder.

“Speak for yourself. I’m definitely slinking,” Ace chipped in.

We rounded the corner. The Death House sat in a halo of streetlamps at the end of the road.

27

Under the moonlight and the unnatural magical glow of streetlights, the Death House waited for us. Three stories high, the rectangular building took up half the block. We approached from the shadows of the alley, letting the darkness shroud our presence.

“This way.” Paul led us around the side of the large rectangular building. He pointed at the decrepit fire escape ladder someone had left down.

“Are we breaking into the city’s death house?” I blinked at Paul.

“More like visiting without permission,” my brother said. “Besides, it’s not breaking and entering if we don’t break anything.” He jerked his chin at the ladder. “Start climbing.”

Guess that explained the need to move through the city without being noticed.

Ace shrugged. He did that a lot. He just went with things. He must be confident in his ability to get out of trouble.

I grabbed the metal railing and pulled myself up. Step by step, I made my way to the second floor with the other two behind me. After I reached the small landing, I peered down at my brother. “What now?”

“Usually people open the door.” His tone was dry and full of unappreciated sarcasm.

“Ass,” I muttered. I half-expected him to make me use a secret knocking code, but when I turned the knob, the door clicked open. He must’ve paid, bribed, or asked a guard to leave the escape down and the door unlocked.

As far as I knew, the Death House wasn’t usually subject to break-ins, but the highly unusual deaths should’ve drawn some attention, should’ve piqued some interest. But there was none.

No one knew.

Someway, somehow, the royals had kept the deaths a secret. There was no other explanation. If the residents of Wast had learned of Dita and Shona’s deaths, they wouldn’t be unaffected or disinterested. Something like this usually made it into the gossip flyers that flittered around town, but I hadn’t heard a peep about it. Blake certainly would’ve said something. He was such a gossip.

I pulled the door open and stepped inside. The air was cool and clean, with a hint of chemical cleaner.

“Did you know they used to call Death Houses morgues?” Ace spoke behind me.

I jumped a little. “What?”

“Before the great war when electricity ran the world instead of magic. They called these places morgues.”

“You’re a historian, too?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “Such a complete package.”

“Oh, I have a complete package?—”

“Can you guys shut the phaan up?” my brother said.

I held the door open for the men and stepped to the side. Once they both made it into the hallway, I released the door. After it snicked shut, darkness encased us. The soft glow from farther down the corridor provided enough light to highlight the edges of the hallway, but Ace’s and Paul’s faces were shrouded in shadows.

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