“Unless you don’t like blood,” muttered Garrick.
Apollo glared at him. “You’re not helping.”
“Neither are you, Your Highness. Not to be rude,” Garrick said in a clearly rude tone. “But this will take an eternity if you mollycoddle her. Just tell her about the damn mark.”
“What mark?” Evangeline asked.
Apollo’s lips pressed into a tight line. Then his eyes dropped to her wrist.
Evangeline didn’t even need to follow his gaze. As soon as he looked toward her sheer gloves, she could feel the broken heart scar on her wrist begin to burn. Her heart started to race as well.
She remembered then the seamstress who’d covertly left the room after seeing the scar yesterday, and Evangeline had a terrible feeling that she now knew where the woman had gone. She’d left to see Apollo.
“Lord Jacks made that scar on your wrist. It’s his mark. It signifies a debt you owe him.”
“What kind of debt?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you owe,” Apollo said. “All we can do is try to stop him from collecting it.” He looked at her grimly now. His skin—normally a lovely olive—had gone a little gray.
“How?”
“By finding him before he finds you. The mark he gave you links you to him, making it possible for Jacks to locate you anywhere.”
“But it can also help us find him,” Garrick added. “The same link that allows him to track you should allow us to hunt him. But we need your blood.”
Somewhere in the room, a bird cawed, loud and unnerving as Garrick flashed his teeth. Bloodthirsty was the word that came to mind.
Evangeline didn’t like the idea that she owed Jacks a debt, but she also didn’t want to give this stranger her blood. In fact, she had a powerful urge to run from the room and keep running until her legs gave out. But she had the impression that Garrick of the Greenwood was the sort of man who would chase anything that fled him.
“May I think about this?” she asked. “Of course I want you to find Lord Jacks, but this bit about the blood makes me rather uncomfortable.”
“Very well then.” Garrick snapped his tattooed fingers twice. “Argos, it’s time to go.”
A bird that looked like a raven swooped down from one of the beams above. It flew toward Garrick in an elegant arc of blue-black wings. Evangeline felt one of its feathers brush her face and—
“Ouch!” she yelped as the bird bit her shoulder. Two sharp pecks left two brilliant wells of blood. She tried to stop the bleeding with her hand, but Garrick moved faster. He moved nearly as fast as his bird as he clapped a cloth over the wound, quickly collecting her blood.
“Sorry, Highness, but there’s really not time for you to think, and we’ve already done that bit for you.” Garrick pulled the bloody cloth away and strode toward the door, whistling as his raven perched on his shoulder.
Evangeline seethed as she continued to bleed. She wasn’t sure who she was more upset with: the mercenary who’d just attacked her with his pet bird, or her husband.
Two evenings before, that night at the tower, Apollo had been so sweet. He’d been caring, he’d been thoughtful. But today, between what she’d watched happen with Garrick and Apollo’s instructions for her guards, the prince felt like another person. And Evangeline didn’t know him well enough to know which version was really him. Earlier she’d thought what had happened with her guards was merely a misunderstanding, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“Did you know Garrick was going to do that? That he was going to take my blood regardless of whether I gave my permission?”
Apollo worked his jaw. “I don’t think you understand how much of a threat Jacks is.”
“You’re right. You keep saying Jacks is the villain. Yet you just let a man attack me with his pet bird in order to hunt another man down and kill him. You also told my guards—who aren’t very nice, by the way—not to let me leave the castle, despite promising me you’d never lock me up. So, no, I don’t know how much of a threat Lord Jacks is, but I’m starting to see you as one.”
Apollo’s eyes flashed. “Do you think I want to do any of this?”
“I think you’re a prince and you do whatever you want.”
“Wrong, Evangeline.” His voice shook as he spoke. “None of this is what I want, but it’s not just Jacks I’m trying to protect you from. There are people in this castle, people on my council, who believe I shouldn’t trust you. They believe you worked with Jacks to assassinate me. And if these people believe my judgment is compromised and that you’re still working with him, then even I won’t be able to save you.”
“But Jacks took all my memories,” Evangeline argued. “How could anyone still think I was working with him?”
Apollo’s frightened gaze darted back to her wrist, the one with the broken heart scar. “The current theory is that Jacks took your memories so that you couldn’t betray him.”
“Is this what you believe?” Evangeline asked.
For a long moment, Apollo just looked at her. His gaze was no longer fearful or angry, but it wasn’t the warm, adoring gaze she’d grown used to. It was cold and distant, and for a second, she felt a tremor of fear. Apollo was the only ally she had in the Magnificent North. If it wasn’t for him, she’d have nothing, no one, and nowhere to go.
“I’m not working with Jacks,” Evangeline said finally. “I might not remember anything, but I know that I’m not that kind of person. I have no plans to meet with him or to betray you or anyone else in this castle. But if you treat me like a captive or a pawn or if you let anyone else attack me with their pet bird, I will refuse to behave. But it’s not because I’m not loyal.”
Apollo took a deep breath and the cold left his eyes. “I know, Evangeline. I believe you. But my thoughts aren’t the only ones that matter.” He reached down and stroked a finger along her jaw. His eyes lowered, and she knew that he was going to kiss her. He was going to finish this argument with his lips on hers—and part of her wanted to let him. She couldn’t risk losing him. He was all she had in this new reality.
But just because he was all she had didn’t mean that she needed to give him all the power. “I’m still mad at you.”
Apollo slowly moved his hand from her jaw into her hair. “Do you think you can forgive me? I’m sorry about the blood, and I’m sorry about your guards. I’ll assign you new ones. But I need you to trust me and to be careful.”
Evangeline raised her chin defiantly. “You mean you need me to stay in Wolf Hall?”
“Just until we find Lord Jacks.”
“But—”
Before he could finish, the door to the receiving room swung open and the same guard who’d brought Evangeline there announced, “Lord Slaughterwood is here to meet with you. He says he has information about Lord Jacks.”
Chapter 8
Apollo
Havelock’s timing was perfect, but Apollo wished he hadn’t mentioned information about Jacks. Evangeline’s reaction to the potential news was immediate. Her expressions were always so easy to read. Earlier he’d seen her unease; then he’d seen her fear, her anger; and now as she bit down on her lower lip, he could see her curiosity. She was the moth and Jacks was still the flame.