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All in all, a typical Sunday.

A few hours later, at the door, my mother fussed over my nose, checking it again.

“Ronan set it. He’s mildly competent,” I assured her.

“Don’t be nasty. Ronan is perfectly average. It’ll be nice to have a healer in the family. Bring her soon. Or I’ll find out the name.”

The threat reminded me to kick Ronan again on the way back.

16

LUCIAN

Ronan dropped me off first, as I lived at the end of Kings’ Avenue, his horses merrily galloping away to take him back to his townhouse, closer to the gate.

The imposing mansion where I’d resided my entire life wasn’t mine as such, and I was not the sole inhabitant there. That said, it had three wings, a total of seventy-two bedrooms, several parlors, drawing rooms, ballrooms, dungeons, four gardens, a great hall, the undercroft, the buttery, and five kitchens—to name only a few of the features—so I didn’t tend to encounter my housemate. He liked to brood like a ghost, only appearing once in a blue moon for dinner.

My grandfather was welcome at my mother’s house—as she often reminded me—but he never left the manor. As I brought enough leftovers to feed an army, I decided to head to his wing first to drop some of the food off.

I was halfway to my front gate when I noticed the girl seated on the top step leading up to the entrance. It surprised me at first—I usually felt people before I saw them—but the why became clear as I stared at her.

I hadn’t bothered to register her presence because she felt completely, utterly human. Like a regular mortal without asingle power. And yet the pure silver running into her eyes told another story. People—myself included until today—had calledmyeyes silver, but in truth they were gray. Hers were actual silver: metallic, like they were covered in shining foil. It was startling.

Some of the strands of her hair had the same tone, though the rest was pink.

She wore dark, form-fitting clothes, other than her pink tanktop. The way she held herself, as well as the getup, screamed warrior, despite her diminutive height and the total lack of magic emanating from her.

Well, that wasn’t quite right. There was a pendant around her throat, pulsing with familiar energy.

I’d seen her around, but I couldn’t place her immediately.

“You’re a hard man to find, Regis.”

The voice did the trick, triggering a memory. She’d sat next to Kleos at the bar last week, laughing with her. The sort-of-pretty, short woman who Ishouldhave noticed, had my attention not been otherwise engaged.

That also explained the pendant: Kleos had charmed it.

Curious, I tilted my head. “Really? Everyone knows where I live.”

“Maybe down here,” she replied.

She was likely right. I wondered how long it took her to find the information if she stuck to her records from the vale. None of my information was filed with the new blood system. They handled their vale, and we kept our underside method.

She could have saved herself the trouble and asked the first unders to cross her path.

I focused on the important bit. “And you were looking for me why, exactly?”

“Kleos,” she almost spat.

I lifted an eyebrow. Was she going to warn me away from her friend? If so, that was rather entertaining. First, because I hadn’t made any kind of move, but also because I knew better. Despite Gideon, Ronan, mymother’simagination, I realized that I, Lucian Regis, would never be considered as a potential partner for the likes of Kleos Valesco. Oh, she’d fuck me. Tipsy, horny, or high from the simple air of the Dionysia, or other fertility festivals, we all fucked each other indiscriminately. But I knew better than to fall into that trap with a woman I found so…interesting.

When she picked a nice boy to settle down with, I wouldn’t handle it well. I knew as much. I was a Regis and a Saltzin. Both sides of the family were known for their possessive, obsessive, and tragically single-minded attention. Hell, my grandfather had murdered almost a thousand people based on those instincts.

I didn’t do casual with anyone I actually liked. That would have been a recipe for a lot of dead bodies.

“Kleos,” I repeated, entertained.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to pay for what you did to her, necromancer.”