“So what was all the yelping about?”
Ithan crossed his arms. On the desk itself sat a statuette of Cthona, carved from black stone. In one arm the goddess cradled an infant to her bare breast. In the other, she extended an orb—Midgard—out into the room. Cthona, birther of worlds. He touched it idly, gathering his courage.
“I want to discuss what you’re going to do about Sabine,” he said.
The Viper Queen leaned back in her seat, sleek bob swaying. “As far as I know, when Amelie Ravenscroft woke up from having her throat cut by my guards, she tracked down the Prime Apparent, dragged her carcass home, and has been feeding Sabine a steady diet of firstlight to regenerate her. She’s already back on her feet.”
Ithan’s blood curdled. “So Sabine recovered quickly.”
The Viper Queen cocked her head. “Were you hoping otherwise?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “And you’re going to hand Sigrid and me over to her?”
The Viper Queen opened a drawer, pulled out a silver tin of cigarettes, and lifted one to her mouth. “Depends on how nicely you ask me not to, Holstrom.” The cigarette rose and fell with the words. She lifted a lighter and ignited the tip, taking a long drag.
“What’ll it take?”
Smoke rippled from her mouth as the Viper Queen sized him up. Her tongue darted over her purple lower lip. Tasting—scenting. The way snakes smelled.
“Let’s introduce ourselves first. We’ve never met, have we?”
“Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“So testy. I thought you’d be a big old softy.”
He flashed his teeth. “I don’t know why you’d assume that.”
She took another long drag of her cigarette. “Did you not go against Sabine’s orders and lead a small group of wolves into Asphodel Meadows to save humans? To save the most vulnerable of the House of Earth and Blood?”
He growled. “I was doing a nice thing. There wasn’t much more to it than that.”
The Viper Queen exhaled a plume of smoke, more dragon than the one upstairs. “That remains to be seen.”
Ithan challenged, “You sent your people to help that day, too.”
“I was doing a nice thing,” the Viper Queen echoed mildly. “There wasn’t much more to it than that.”
“Maybe you’ll feel inclined to do the nice thing today, too.”
“Buying or selling, Holstrom?”
Ithan leashed the wolf inside howling at him to start shredding things. “Look, I don’t play games.”
“Pity.” She examined her manicured nails. “Sabine doesn’t, either. All you wolves are so boring.”
Ithan opened his mouth, then shut it. Considered what she’d said, what she’d done. “You don’t like Sabine.”
Her lips curved slowly. “Does anyone?”
He clenched his hands into fists. “If you don’t like her, why let her go?”
“I’d ask the same of you, pup. You had her down—why not finish the kill?” Ithan couldn’t help the way his body tensed. “Of course,” the Viper Queen went on, “the Fendyr heir—Sigrid, is it?—should be the one to do it. Don’t you wolves call it … challenging?”
“Only in open combat, when witnessed by pack-members of the Den. If Sigrid had killed Sabine last night, it would have been an assassination.”
“Semantics.”
A chill skittered down his spine. “You want Sabine truly dead.” She said nothing. “Is this your cost, then? You want me to kill—”
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t dare tangle in politics like that.”
“Just drugs and misery, right?”
Again, that slow smile. “What would your dear brother say if he knew you were here with the likes of me?”
Ithan wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Tell me what it’ll take to get all of us out of here.”
“A fight.” She extinguished her cigarette. “Just one fight. From you. A private event,” the Viper Queen purred. “Only for me.”
“Why?” Ithan demanded.
“I place a high value on amusement. Especially my own.” She smiled again. “One fight for safe passage—and Ketos’s freedom. You win, and it’s all yours. Nothing more required beyond that.”
Fuck, he should have brought Marc with him—he’d have thought this through, would have spotted any pitfalls a mile off.
But Ithan knew if he walked out, if he went to get someone else, the option would be off the table. It came down to him, and him alone.