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“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he sighs. “If I were speaking to a King right now, there’d be a mutual understanding.”

Verity snorts. “And what kind of understanding is that?”

But instead of answering her, he stares at me. “Do you know why my house sigil is a pentagram, Pace? There are plenty of rumors. Some say we worship the devil with blood magic, but that’s ridiculous, and everyone at this table knows it.” He tips his head down, eyes intense. “Do you know the true reason?”

“Can’t say I care.”

“Of course, you care.” There’s a grin in his voice. “It’s your brother’s birthright. Maybe even your son’s.”

Verity goes rigid at my side. “Why the pentagram?”

When he reaches out to clutch the hilt of the knife, yanking it free from the table, I jolt in front of Verity.

But he just rucks up his sleeve, slashing a shallow cut into his flesh.

I snap, “What the fuck are you?—”

“Five points,” Maddox says, dragging his fingertip through the pooling blood. He then presses it to the table, drawing a crude star with the blood. “One for each Royal house. North, south, east, west, and nowhere.” The blood smears against the wood as he drags it down, completing the star. “I realize this must be difficult for you to comprehend, considering who raised you, but there’s a reason the Barons don’t claim territory. It’s the same reason I’m wearing a mask right now. It’s why Clive Kayes wore one of his own.” Locking onto my glare, he draws a slow, bloody circle around the star. “Unlike the rest of you, we’re servants of Forsyth—of life anddeath. Not ourselves.”

“That’s horseshit,” I argue, sneering at the display. “Every Royal house serves itself.”

“Then let me speak this language you know so well. My son—myrealson—sees this girl,” he nods toward where Verity is peeking over my shoulder, “as a sister. Harming her and her baby would be unforgivable in his eyes. That trumps your flimsy motive.”

The puff of laughter that tumbles from her lips is dry and harsh. “You’ve done enough unforgivable things to him. I don’t think it’d make much of a difference.”

Maddox slams the knife back into the table—this time, in the middle of the pentagram. “If Rufus is telling the truth, this goes deeper,” he says, grabbing his drink. I watch, frustrated as he tips it over his bloody wrist, the expensive alcohol washing the blood away.

Verity wonders, “What do you mean?”

But he’s already standing, fixing the black cuff of his shirt. “I’ll call the Williams to the crypt tomorrow and see if there’s any legitimacy to Rufus’ claims.”

I give him an incredulous look. “And we’re supposed to take your word for it?”

“A Baron always honors a promise made in blood.” Maddox gestures at the drawing on the table, and then at Verity. “Ask your fists and their fury. She’ll tell you what this means.”

When he stalks toward the door, half of the patrons around the room—at the bar, by the stage, even some in the middle of playing a game—stand and begin exiting with him. These, I know, are his shadows.

In the midst of the display, I give a stunned, gawking Verity an unimpressed glance, reaching to tug the knife from the table.

“Fucking drama king.”

6

Verity

For the restof that week, we almost get into a routine.

Mornings in the dungeon, afternoons in the garden, evenings spent pouring over design plans for the new nursery, and nights spent with Wicker wrapped around me like a vine.

Of course, the peace couldn’t last.

“It should be me,” comes a voice from beside the bed. “You know I’m right.”

I’m beginning to get used to Wicker popping out of walls, but I still toss him an exasperated look when he appears from behind the panel. “I don’t want another argument,” I say. Things are still fragile since last night, when I made a proposition that neither Pace nor Lex took very well. Wicker hadn’t seemed to care at the time. “And should you really be using that right now?” I glance at the door, pitching my voice to a whisper. “Withpeoplein the house?”

The whirr of the drill whines down the hall, followed by the sound of plaster hitting the floor. It’s been like this all day.All day. Starting at 7 AM.

“Seemed easier than going through that obstacle course out there. You’re the one who wanted a new nursery.” He notices the suitcase on the bed. “They aren’t going to see anything.”