Page 65 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

She felt Holt’s gaze on her. “You picked the lock,” he said quietly.

“Lucky for you I got invited out to dinner this evening,” she replied, knowing he knew exactly where she’d been. He’d ordered it, Raif had told her.

“You must have questions.” His voice was still strained, and Zylah wished she had a pair of tweezers to pick the fabric out more gently.

She did have questions. Lots of them. But now wasn’t the time; she needed to concentrate. “You don’t owe me anything,” she finally said, setting another scrap of fabric on the floor beside them.

“I see. So we’re even now, are we?”

Zylah huffed a quiet laugh. “You saved my life twice; I’ve saved yours once. No, we’re not even yet.”

“I think you had the second time under control. Besides, you’ve healed me twice now.”

Zylah closed her eyes and took in a deep breath to focus, to call on that power she’d only just begun to explore. The wounds were still too messy and healing him still didn’t feel straightforward. “About that. Can you take over? I think I’m going to do more harm than good from here on in.”

His gaze was fixed on her when she opened her eyes, watching her intently. “Not yet, the vanquicite has a lingering effect.”

A weapon against the Fae. If Marcus had some in his possession, Zylah had no doubt Arnir knew of the stone and had likely used it to bring down the Fae all those years before. She frowned as she patted the last of her poultice onto the wound. It would have to do. Everything looked clean, at least, though Holt’s shirt was ruined. The lump in her back ached and her head was spinning with questions. There was so much information she needed to unpack.

She gathered up the scraps of charred fabric from the floor. “Who were we meant to be spying on this evening?”

“A higher-up in Arnir’s elite unite; the unit that I’m sure you’re well acquainted with by now.” Holt watched her as she tidied everything away.

“One of Arnir’s men. Marcus?”

“No. Marcus was a surprise. I… owe him.” His eyes shuttered, and Zylah could have sworn whatever pain he was trying to shut down was tangible for a moment.

The life debt. That tracked. But the bodies? “You’re killing humans for him?” she asked, handing him the celandia drops to disinfect his hands.

Something in Holt seemed to shut down, like a light had turned off behind his eyes. He squared his jaw. “Yes.”

Zylah returned what was left of her supplies to the bathroom, throwing away the scraps from Holt’s shirt and scrubbing her hands. “And he’s working with Arnir. So you’re working with Arnir, by extension.” She didn’t know how she felt about any of this. She was too exhausted to feel anything but the weariness in her bones, but she needed to piece this together.

“Arnir knows me as a bounty hunter, through Marcus. The Black Veil are how I keep them both away from our kind, keep our plans concealed.”

Zylah leant against the doorframe to the bathroom, watching Holt peel off what was left of his shirt and inspect his wound. “By using humans and killing them?” He was ignoring her gaze—and Zylah couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. At least he showed remorse. But something about it didn’t add up. She’d only known him a short while, but she knew he was good. Kind.

“I can see how it would look that way,” he muttered, closing his eyes and dragging a hand over his face.

Killing humans, even if he was protecting others, it didn’t make sense. “I’ll never find out what you truly do, will I?” She took the remains of the shirt from him. “Get on the bed. I can’t lift you, so don’t make me try.”

He did as she asked without protest, and Zylah knew he must have been weaker than he’d let on. She had no idea how long the effects of the vanquicite would remain, but the poultice would hold. Holt’s heartbeat and breathing were steady, which told her Marcus’s damage was relatively superficial. This time.

Something tapped at the window. Kopi. Zylah unhooked the latch and watched him swoop in.

“I did tell you to leave,” Holt said, watching her from the bed.

She handed him the pillows. “Why? Because you think you deserve to die?” He said nothing, just lay back on the pillows. “I can see you’re stuck in something you think you have no way out of. I know whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it because you’ve no choice.”

He rested an arm under his head and closed his eyes. “We always have a choice, Zylah.”

“Even if there’s a life debt involved?” She wanted to know—wanted to know what had happened for him to lay his life down for Raif and Rose, or whatever reason compelled him to do it.

“I need to keep Marcus on side if the plan with Arnir is going to go ahead.”

“And for what? To replace one tyrant with another? Is Marcus just going to swoop into Arnir’s palace once we’re done? Was that the plan all along? One asshole king for another?” Zylah was pacing now, dragging a hand through her hair. Would it truly be freedom if Marcus was the one to replace Arnir? Marcus had asked about her, and the selfish voice inside her told her to run, to leave Virian and never look back.

“I’m bound to him, Zylah. There is nothing I can do.”

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