Page 121 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“Rule number two,” I continue. “Rose never walks into a room first. Two of us in front, two behind. Always.”
That way, there’s a chance of getting her out of there when something goes south.
“Rule three—Hey, get back here!”
Gryffin and Prae are being less than subtle as they sneak off towards the trees, their auras flashing with streaks of pink and red that give away their intentions.
A gentle hand lands on my chest, cutting me off, and giving the two lovebirds time to escape as I look down to see glowing violet eyes watching me carefully. Her aura is spiking in the way I’ve learned it does when the Goddess is close to the surface, and I grimace at the thought. The last thing I need is Danu smashing her way through Calimnel on some revenge quest.
But when she speaks, her voice is even, without a hint of the Goddess’s power. “We’ll be careful. Let them have their fun.”
“Careful isn’t good enough,” I snap, then instantly regret it. “I was careful for two centuries. It didn’t save me.”
And Rose has a mortal heart. If her court is threatened…
“Which is why rule three?—”
Lore blinks into the centre of the camp, perched on the shoulders of a familiar priest. One who’s missing both of his arms and wearing a gag soaked in blood.
“Pretty pet,” he singsongs, dropping to the ground and kicking the trembling high fae to his knees. “I caught you a worm!”
“Danu’s tits, Lorcan!” I jolt to my feet, putting Rose behind my body. “Some warning!”
Mervyn collapses on the leaf-strewn ground, his whole body shaking, and Rose’s fingers dig into my back, clutching onto me like a lifeline.
Goddess, like this day couldn’t get any worse.
Thirty-Six
Rhoswyn
Irecognise the priest, though I’m amazed that it’s possible, given the state that he’s in. Lore has cut off both his arms, and old blood from the scabbed-over wounds has turned his temple robes brown.
My redcap has been gone nearly a week, and while I assumed that meant Mervyn was hard to find, it turns out Lore was just getting a head start on the torture. Just looking at the butchered fae in front of me makes me feel a little sick.
This is the male who gave Eero the excuse he needed to start a civil war. Without his interference, perhaps I’d have the Summer Court’s army on its way to Elfhame City. Instead, I have an enemy with impenetrable skin and a bard with charm powers to deal with.
So while I might be disgusted and more than a little squeamish about the brutality of Lore’s actions, I don’t disapprove of them.
“You forgot to kill it,” Jaro snarls. “Rose doesn’t need to see his death.”
“See it?” Lore’s eyes go round with honest confusion. “I thought she’d want todeliverit.”
Execute the priest? Me?
“You’re insane.” Jaro takes a spot on Drystan’s other side, forcing me to crane my neck to see past them both.
“No, he’s just offering her something that any unseelie would take in a heartbeat,” Drystan corrects, pinching the bridge of his nose. “To the redcap, this is the equivalent of a bunch of flowers.”
“Rude to talk about me like I’m not here.” Lore’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Now, get out of the way, Wolfie; you’re ruining Rose’s present.”
Blue eyes full of hatred stare up at me from the floor, and I have to take a deep breath and force myself not to flinch away. Mervyn’s body may be trembling, but that look is pure vitriol.
This male would kill me in a heartbeat. He wants my Guard dead. Leaving him alive is out of the question, and handing off his death to someone else is cowardly.
If I want him murdered, I should have the guts to do it myself, right? No matter how much the idea turns my stomach.
Lore’s face is falling, his red eyes widening with the realisation that perhaps this isn’t the fantastic gift he thought it was, and fear of disappointing him spurs me to move faster.
