Page 74 of Rook of Ruin
“At least you dream of me,” I reply under my breath, but Zane hears me—he raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. Paul huffs, and Tess’s hand dips only slightly into a stranger’s pocket before handing a few coins to Zane. Tess only steals from criminals, and she is a blessing on missions.
Bringing my calloused hand to my face, I cough into my fist, trying not to laugh thinking about O. Paul and I both were the enemies of the three renegades that night, but we all made sure to sneak her back into the barracks. I wrote in the paperwork that the sailors had threatened a woman, but I didn’t name her. Orlaith never went out again. The one and only time she ever truly went into Marrith again was when Zane brought her on that mission. I could have murdered him when her mask came off.
Biting the inside of my mouth until blood coats my teeth, I try to keep from smiling. Orlaith’s tongue was sharp when shelaid into me for saving her. Fuck.Stop thinking about her.Her tongue, her mouth. Fuck. My dick is going to be harder than—
“That one. I could take him. Easily.” Zane shifts his body, wanting to pounce on a man ten times his size. I glare at the redhead, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Joking.” I huff, and he smirks. “Don’t worry your pretty head, I’d protect you if a fight breaks out. What are besties for?”
Not wanting to encourage his use of “bestie,” I ignore him, and my mind drifts back to O. She is fucking sheltered but could take on anything, anyone, if she were so inclined. Anyone in this brothel, she could destroy. At one time, I thought she was nothing more than a spoiled brat; I didn’t know how much being a Rook truly meant to her. I had no idea how lonely her childhood had been, how she’d suffered from the loss of her parents, and how deeply afraid she is of some room in the castle with large windows. My chest burns again, and I try my best not to rub it.
Everything. Absolutely everything I’ve done has been for her. The monster in my soul flexes in annoyance as if to say,You fool, you can never speak the words “I love you,” never say those specific words—because I was a fucking mess and made an oath on my first mission.
Forcing myself not to shudder, I think of all I’ve done to survive, and my jaw tightens. The despicable women I’ve had to seduce, the evil men I’ve had to befriend—I already knew monsters existed from my childhood in Enthe, but that was nothing compared to what I saw as the Spider, what I see. Now, they fear me because I hunt the nightmares that plague the people of Acros. With or without permission from the queen’s council.
Walking towards the back of the dancehall, the large, meaty bartender narrows his eyes before tilting his head to the side in acknowledgement. It’s only because we’re wearing nice suits,groomed to look like lords. Our throats would be slit if we were wearing Rook leathers. Striding past the bartender, Zane opens the doors adorned in purple silk, revealing a different world. This side is for the wealthy upper class, where they can fulfil any and every desire.
Purple fabric adorns the walls, and gold accents sparkle in the soft, soothing light. Doors are covered in different-colored silks, allowing each patron to know exactly what they are getting. Blue for dominatrixes, orange for submissives, black for either, green is for orgies, orange for cuckolding, yellow for . . . I pause to listen. I don’t exactly know what yellow is for because it’s usually empty, but today, it isn’t.
“Damn it, Rose, put more doilies on me! A proper table would have more doilies! I’m not supposed to speak!” I recognize Lord Tarrek’s prickish voice.
Forniphilia. Now I know what the yellow door is for, and I know Lord Tarrek likes to be an oak table.
Zane grins, tapping his pipe on the wall. “Huh. That’s why Lord Tarrek strokes the table during the queen’s council meetings.” He reaches for the doorknob, and I shove him out of the way. He laughs. “You’re no fun tonight, Spider. You need to get laid, my friend.”
The monster in me rears at the thought of touching anyone . . . not just anyone . . . anyone else. My fingers flex at my sides, and I heave a breath.Control.
Moving towards the other purple door at the end of the hall, Zane opens it to a beautiful, large space, which looks as if it should be a tearoom rather than a brothel. Each lord or lady sits at a secluded purple booth, provided with a drink and then a menu to select their desires from. Zane silently slips away to watch my back from a booth. Keeping to the shadows, I open another purple silk door. This room is for private guest parties. I slide up to the mahogany bar.
A severed tongue sliced through with a knife is unceremoniously stabbed into the wooden bar next to my hand, and I don’t fucking flinch. I knew he was here.
“Spider.”
“Vetter.” I grunt, not bothering to remove the knife from the bar. The crime lord himself smirks, noticing the dagger I have dangerously close to his side. One little move, and it will be buried deep inside his body—as usual, the air crackles with potential violence. “I’m assuming you have what I asked for?”
“As you requested.” Vetter slides a blue-black box next to the tongue. I open it, and memory stones gleam in the light. He snaps it shut. “Let us hope your plan works.”
“It will.” It must, or we are fucked.
Sheathing my dagger, I watch as he grabs some whiskey from behind the bar and takes a drink directly from the bottle. My eyebrow quirks at this new development; Vetter has a certain proclivity for wine, specifically fae wine. As if knowing what I’m thinking, he says, “I lost someone two months ago.”
“And?” I cannot give a shit. Our symbiotic relationship doesn’t mean we actually care about each other. If one of his minions died, then they shouldn’t have signed their life away with this sick prick.
“And . . .? She was a friend! She had nothing to do with any of this, andhekilled her to get to me.” He slams the bottle down. “I told you! I fucking told you that the Panther would come for us, only, he is killing the people we care for.” Vetter rubs his hands down his face, his voice choking out, “I found her child days after it happened, still sitting in her blood.”
Rage burns through my body, but my emotionless mask remains intact. “Did he see?” We both know what will happen to the kid if the Panther finds out he left a witness.
“He won’t talk about it. I’m afraid to push and hurt him further. I’m protecting him, but—” He slides a hand through hisalmost white hair. “I’m telling you again, for the last fucking time, you need to send them underground.”
If the Panther found out abouther, if he knew about O, I would burn this fucking world down. The monster in me agrees. Of course it would, the fucking sadist. There is no depth I wouldn’t go to ensure her safety.
I nod, but I know Christoph and Nolan won’t hide. Zane won’t either—his exact words were, “Fuck off, Spider twat,” and the rest of the Rooks with us would rather die than hide. “What do you need?”
Vetter squints his black eyes. “Really, Spider? One would think you counted me as a friend with that question.”
I scowl. “Vetter, we are not friends. Friends wouldn’t send severed tongues like they’re a treat—you would actually tell me what the fuck you found out.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, Spider. With a relationship like that, we would both get bored. I’m the best kind of friend to have.” He takes another long swig of the whiskey bottle.
He’s trying to rile me up again.Control.“Friends don’t let friends give life debts, asshole, and when I—”
