Darkness descended as a flood of icy rage rose within me. Jericho, that motherfucker, literally had one job: Take out one of her guards and do so without being seen.
He was not to interact with the Maiden. He had been warned not to touch her.
Not to harm her.
“Cover for me.” I pivoted and started walking. “There is something I must attend to.”
Jansen was on my heels, keeping his voice low. “Hawke—”
I stopped long enough to meet his stare.
Whatever he saw caused him to draw up short. He gave me a curt nod. “I’ll cover for you.”
Saying nothing more, I left the Rise, coming down by one of the gatehouses. A few guards lingered near, but none looked at me as I grabbed one of the cloaks left hanging. Donning it, I didn’t care who or how many had worn it last. I lifted the hood and quickly blended into the darkness of those who lived in the shadows of the Rise.
Knowing exactly where Jericho would be, I wasted no time crossing the smoke-and-sewage-riddled streets of the Lower Ward, my rage increasing with each step as I neared the Three Jackals, a gambling den known for its blood sports and violent clientele.
I was about to become the most violent patron they’d ever seen.
A shadow peeled away from the walls, drifting quietly past an unconscious man on the sidewalk. Kieran approached me in the dim light of the lanterns that framed the windowless entry, dressed in the dull brown trousers and worn jacket of a commoner, a cap pulled low to hide his features. “I know you want to do something irresponsible and reckless, but you can’t kill him,” he said. There was no greeting. No need to ask questions. He knew why I was here.
“I’m not going to kill him,” I replied.
“I’m only going to murder him.”
Kieran sidestepped, blocking me.
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not. Killing someone implies it could’ve been an accident. What I’m about to do will be completely intentional.”
“I get your anger. I do—”
“I don’t think you do.” I started to brush past him, but Kieran planted a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I looked down at his hand and then lifted my gaze to his. “I really don’t think you do.”
“He didn’t listen, and he stepped way out of line. I’m pissed, too.” His pale blue eyes brightened beneath the brim of his cap. “But you cannot murder, kill, or unalive him.”
A rumble of warning rose from my chest. “I can do whatever I please,” I growled, stepping into Kieran and forcing his arm to bend. “I am his fucking Prince, and he disobeyed me.”
“Oh, so now you claim ownership of that title?” Kieran countered, his voice as low as mine. “Bear all the responsibilities of such? Good. About damn time. Your parents and Atlantia will rejoice. Alastir will likely come in his pants from happiness, and blah, blah, what-the-fuck-ever, but you aren’t just going to go in there as his Prince. You will be going in there as the Prince of Atlantia—the Prince who governs us all.”
I knocked his arm aside. “I can’t believe you’re out here defending him.”
“You know damn well I can’t stand the jackass, but it’s not about me. It’s not about you,” he shot back.
“Then educate me on what this is about because, right now, the world is my fucking playground.”
“He was acting upon your orders—and, yes, he wasn’t supposed to attempt to take her.” Having no concern for his well-being, he clasped my shoulder again. “But do you think anyone will see the harm in him attempting to speed this shit up?
Even if it was a foolish attempt?”
“That’s not the only reason,” I spat. “You were there.”
“I was.” His grip on my shoulder firmed. “I saw what he did. I saw what she did. She cut him, deeply enough that if he were mortal, he would be dead.”
My head tilted. “Do you think I give a fuck about him being cut? I told him she was to remain unharmed.”
“I know, and I knocked him on his ass for it already. But how do you think any of those with him, those who traveled into Solis with you and are risking their lives for you, will handle seeing him die at their Prince’s hands?”
“They are risking their lives for my brother,” I seethed.
“Is there a difference?”
There was in my mind.
Kieran leaned in until the brim of his cap brushed the hood of my cloak. “No one in there will care that he struck the Maiden. Right or wrong, they don’t see her as a person. When they look at her, all they see is a symbol of the Ascended, of those who have killed many of their kin and drove their people to near extinction. That doesn’t mean they all agree with what he did, but you need to think about what it will do if you walk in there and kill him—a wolven who descends from one of the eldest families.”
I inhaled sharply, some of what he was saying breaking through the fog of anger.
“I know what’s got you so fired up. It’s not because he tried to grab her,” Kieran repeated, squeezing my shoulder. “I know.”
The next breath I took was too shallow. The idea of harming a woman disgusted me; however, it was sometimes an unfortunate necessity, even when it came to the Ascended. Still, Kieran knew most of what the Blood Crown had made me do when they held me. He’d gotten a lot of it out of me when I was on one of my benders. He knew the lives I’d been forced to take, those I’d had to end slowly and painfully. My stomach churned.
I took a step back, exhaling roughly. Kieran was right. None of the others would expect me to be angry enough to slaughter the idiot wolven for attempting to take the Maiden. And he was also right about how they saw her.
Just as I did.
A symbol for the Ascended, a reminder of the bloodshed and loss we’d all dealt with and were still experiencing. My time with her at the Red Pearl didn’t change that. Neither did the Maiden wanting to experience pleasure. Not a damn thing had changed.
“You level?” Kieran asked.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything you should thank me for,” he said.
“Not true.” I met his stare.
“You did everything. Like always.”
HE EARNED IT
Anger somewhat in
check, I cut through those crowding the ring where two men duked it out to a bloody and broken finish, and headed for one of the back rooms. None of the working girls made any grabs for us, nor did anyone attempt to stop us. It could’ve been the way I walked or the look on Kieran’s face. Whatever it was, everyone gave us a wide berth.
Entering a narrow hall, we passed men drunkenly receiving pleasure they likely wouldn’t remember, rooms with gambling, and chambers where various weapons were sold to those forbidden to carry. Men and women were given life and death in these back spaces.
I reached a closed door at the end of the corridor, slamming my hand on the center.
It swung open, banging off the wall.
Several men immediately jumped from their chairs. I quickly scanned them. The two wolven who’d traveled with Jericho, one of them the brown-haired Rolf. Two Descenters: a half-Atlantian, and a blond-haired mortal. My gaze settled on Jericho as Kieran closed the door behind us.