Page 87 of Red King

“You did. I was in a very serious meeting.”

He lifts his brows, still smiling, but quickly turns serious. “Maybe I shouldn’t have called. Are you sure you want to talk with him?” Steel asks me.

“No. I think it’s bullshit, but what choice do I have?” I all but snarl.

“He’s insisting on talking only with you, or I would have handled it myself.”

“If he was going to actually talk, he would do it already. He wouldn’t play games. I shouldn’t go in there.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this to myself. That I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching me jump like his puppet. That I wouldn’t let him toy with me. He’s fucked me around enough.” I sigh.

“Don’t do it, then.”

“I have to. I don’t want to have regrets. This is it, his last chance.” I walk to the door, looking up at the camera. The door buzzes, releasing the lock. I push it open just a crack.

“I’ll wait here,” Steel tells me. “Good luck.”

I nod once and then go inside.

Ice is sitting at a table. He is shackled to it. His legs are shackled to the chair. The steel table and chair are bolted to the floor. Ice smiles as soon as he sees me; I almost turn on my heel and walk back out.

Only thoughts of finding Lake of finding Anya’s killers, keep me where I am.

“I’m so glad you came.” He pushes out a breath, looking relieved. “Please sit.”

“Are you going to talk? Are you going to give up your accomplices? Why were you in illegal contact with the Mainland? Who are you in communication with and why?” I force myself to stop talking.

“I’ll tell you everything.” He licks his lips. “Lake is still alive. She and I have been lovers all of this time…right from the start. I planned on taking her as my queen after…after—”

“You would have had Frost and me murdered in cold blood. This isn’t new information. I’m getting impatient.”

“You only just got here. Sit down, will you?”

This is a shitshow. I don’t want to sit or even be here. I know deep down that he’s fucking with me yet again. That he will continue to do so for as long as possible. I have better things to do. My mind goes to Paisley, which is the last place it should go.

I sit, glaring at Ice.

He looks down at the shackles. “Can we take these off? Maybe order a good Bordeaux? A vintage year, perhaps. Don’t I get a last meal? Can we not be civilized?”

“I won’t pretend civility with a fucking animal, Ice.”

“That’s a bit harsh.” He actually has the audacity to look hurt.

“Can we get to the point?”

“If you’re going to be like this, then—”

“Then what? You won’t tell me everything. I doubt you’ll do that, regardless. I could feed you myself, and you won’t talk. I could wipe your mouth after every bite and your ass after you shit, and you wouldn’t tell me a thing, would you? This is your last chance. I walk if you don’t give me something…anything.”

“There are those in power on the Mainland who want war between Draig and Mistveil. Those who are orchestrating it.”

“Who? And why? What’s in it for them?”

“There is a faction within the Mainland heads of power that sees the strength of both Draig and Mistveil as a threat. They believe that by pitting us against each other, they can weaken us enough to keep us cowed. They are afraid of us and what we could do if banded together.”

I frown. “Why would you work with such individuals?”

“I want Draig destroyed, and so, for now, their vision is in line with mine. You don’t have to kill me, you know? We could work together. We could be all-powerful, Arctic.”

And there is it.

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