Page 57

“Why are you here, Andromedus, and not in your rooms?” Aja plays with her razor, slicing raindrops in half. “The Sovereign was very clear.”

“I have something you’ll want,” I repeat.

“What I want is for Octavia to be obeyed. Fly back to your room, boy, and take a nice shower and fondle the Rose we left in your bed. Drain your anger or whatever this is into her. And leave your oath whole. Do not raise a finger against me. You have killed Grays only. That is easily forgotten, yes? Return, and she will think this only a flight of youth. Stay, and I will add your corpse and those of your Bronzie friends to the heap.

The Howlers bristle behind me.

“As you killed the servants?” I ask heatedly. “Like goats for slaughter.”

&n

bsp; Aja turns back to the pool. “It’s time you left, Reaper.”

“You’re disgusting.” I step closer to her. “All this power, and this is how you use it? Killing families in the middle of the gorydamn night. Base fact is, you’re a disgrace. I hope you remember the pain you brought others when I stand over your corpse.”

She turns on me in all her fury. Razor snapping out. Eyes gleaming. But she can’t touch me. Not now. Not this night.

“Darrow,” Sevro calls with a sudden, odd pleasantness to his voice.

“Yes, Sevro?”

“All that talk about remembering. Aren’t you forgetting something right now?”

“I think he is,” Quinn agrees. “Our wise …”

“… but forgetful Reaper,” finishes Clown in a very frivolous fashion.

“Hmmm. Apologies, Aja. I forgot what I even came here to tell you.” I stand there looking flummoxed.

Quinn sighs. “The bag.”

“Oh, yes! Thank you for reminding me, Sevro!” I cry theatrically. Aja doesn’t know what the hell to make of this sudden banter. “Tell Weed to get down here.”

Sevro speaks into his com and a moment later Weed disengages his ghostCloak and flies from the wall a kilometer distant. We watch him approach. Pebble whistles a merry tune, earning a scowl from Harpy and a chuckle from Sevro, who picks it up as well. The Praetorians think they are insane. Wolfpelts hanging from their backs. Black, custom armor. Wolf helmets. And no one over two meters except for Quinn and I. It’s like a Violet traveling circus.

“What are you playing at?” Aja demands.

“Has no one ever bartered with you?” I ask, surprised. “More’s the pity.”

Weed lands in front of me and hands me the bag Sevro gave me as a present. Aja asks what is in the bag.

“Tell your men in the villa to stop the killing, and I will tell you.”

“I don’t negotiate with boys,” Aja says.

I nudge the bag lightly with my boot, showing Aja that whatever is inside is alive. She frowns and perhaps she begins to understand what it is. She speaks in her com for her men to stand down. “What’s in the gorydamn bag?”

I open it up and pull out the heir to the Morning Throne like he’s a freshly caught rabbit. Lysander’s hands and feet are bound gently, and a silk scarf has been tied over his mouth to keep him from making noise. I untie it.

“Hello, Aja,” he says.

Aja lunges at him. I pull him backward. “Ah! Ah!” I hold my razor to the boy’s neck, letting it curl around, just as the affectionate Oracle wrapped itself around my wrist. Aja freezes. Her Praetorians watch quietly—black helmets and purple capes making them shadows. The few Bellona take steps forward. Aja motions them back. “Next person that moves, I cut them down. How did they get you, Lysander? Your guards …”

“It was Mustang,” he says. “Came to say hello. Cut open my window and gave me to the Howlers.”

“Have you been hurt?”

“Your turn to speak is at an end,” I interrupt. “You will let my Housemembers rise from the pool. You will let them board the shuttle I have inbound. You will tell the ripWings and fighters in the sky and space above Luna to let us pass. Or I will have my Howlers kill the boy.