Jacks raked a violent hand through his hair. “Did Tiberius suggest we go to this party?”
“No, he refused to help, even after I told him that my life was linked to his brother’s.”
“You told him that?” Jacks’s nostrils flared. “If Tiberius shares this with anyone from the Protectorate, they’ll find and kill Apollo in order to kill you.”
For a flash, Jacks looked like he wanted to kill someone, too.
“Calm down, Jacks. When I visited Tiberius at the Tower, it looked as if the Protectorate had abandoned him. Even if I’m wrong, I truly don’t think that Tiberius would put his brother in danger again. He wouldn’t help me open the arch, but he looked conflicted about it. I don’t believe he really wants to kill his brother.”
“You give people too much credit,” Jacks grumbled. “And you should have told me this right away.”
“Why, so you could kill him?”
“Yes.”
“No, Jacks. You can’t go around murdering people because they’re a problem.”
“You can’t save everyone and yourself. How do you think you’re going to get those stones?” His voice turned hard and a little mean. “Do you believe the owners will just hand them over because you give them a pretty smile? If the stones are here, people are going to die at this party.”
“No—I’m not going to kill anyone to get the stones. And neither are you.”
“Then why are we even here?” Jacks sneered.
The coach rolled over the mighty drawbridge that led to Slaughterwood Castle, and Evangeline took it as an excuse to look away from Jacks. This was exactly why she was always reminding herself not to trust him. Of course he would think the only way to get what they wanted was to murder someone for it.
Evangeline could not let Jacks ruin this. She knew he was bitter about the past, and she didn’t blame him for that. She also wondered if he thought LaLa’s engagement didn’t matter because as the Unwed Bride she was likely not to get married. But Evangeline still refused to believe that. In a world where there were Fates and magic and curses and prophecies, Evangeline couldn’t help but believe there was also the potential for everyone to find a happily ever after.
She squared her shoulders and turned back to Jacks with new determination. “LaLa is my friend, this is her engagement party, and it is going to be magical. No one is going to die at this celebration. You are not going to kill people while we’re here.”
Jacks leaned back in his seat and picked up his apple, mouth twisting into a sullen frown. “That’s a terrible plan, Little Fox.” He took a wide bite, sharp teeth tearing at the fruit. “Someone is going to die. It will either be one of them or one of us.”
23
The grounds were warmer than Evangeline would have expected—especially for a House with the word slaughter in its name. Nearing the castle felt like stepping into a tale that a bard might share in front of a fire as travelers drank ale and ate stew.
This place was old. The kind of old that changed the scent of the air. Evangeline was still sitting in the carriage, but as they neared the looming castle, she swore she could smell the dust of long-ago battles and the smoke from hearth fires that had burned centuries ago. Even the grainy flaxen light pouring from the countless windows looked like a remnant of the past.
After their carriage came to a halt, Evangeline followed Jacks outside. She didn’t know if any of the missing arch stones had already arrived around the necks of other guests. But she did not feel any hints of the mirth stone as she and Jacks neared the row of waiting servants. They lined the drive like decorative soldiers, dressed in immaculate silver coats stitched up to mimic armor.
Two servants darted toward the coach to grab their luggage. Several of the other maids and grooms grinned and nodded at Jacks; he was practically scowling, and yet he still managed to dazzle. Evangeline did not have the same effect. She smiled at everyone, but the few servants who looked her way did so with disdain, all narrowed eyes and flattened lips.
She tried not to let it bother her—it could have simply been that the servants were feeling cold or that she was feeling frayed. But then she heard the words, spoken in tones too loud to be called whispers.
“I still think she killed the prince.”
“I don’t know why everyone raves about her hair.”
“She should go back to where she came from.”
Jacks dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders, sending a shock straight through her as he pulled her suddenly close. “Want me to kill any of them for you?”