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“Smart girl.” It swayed its tail over the wooden table and rubbed against her upper left arm concealed under the cloak. “Best keep this hidden. Wouldn’t want you dying before you can complete what’s owed to me.”

“Finish the deal, snake,” she hissed, batting the tail away. She knew the reputation of the green faerie, yet she’d still come there.

Deals were more than an exchange of words, rather unspoken promises and underlying statutes hidden betweenbreaths. She knew of how this creature acquired things no one had ever voiced; she’d thought the High King’s army stories were just that—over-embellished recollections. This faerie was everything those fables spoke about, though.

And now … it knew her secret.

Her hand reluctantly extended to the creature’s tail, body growing taut when someone brushed too close behind her as they passed, leaving the strong stale stench of whiskey against her cloak. Which was utterlyperfect. Because Kaine didn’t drink whiskey or allow her the privilege, but he would smell it. And she would certainly suffer for it.

But there was no choice. It was either make a deal with this devil or forever remain with the monster she knew so well.

She clasped her hand around the razor-sharp edge and trembled. Before she could release her hold, the faerie wrenched itself from her grip, leaving a stinging, dripping wound in its wake.

The deal was done.

“Whenever I need you,Alora, you will bleed again. Watch for my call. Hold on to my knife for me. I may want it back one day.” The serpent turned into its darkened stall. “Now run along, little lion cub.”

Her name in the creature's mouth sent a chill down her stiff spine. The wound on her palm uncomfortably tingled as it surprisingly closed itself back up before her eyes. Her High Fae blood wouldn’t seal a wound that fast. It had to be … magic.

What did I agree to?The thought burned bile in her throat.

Get out of there.

The voice was right. She’d think about this later.

Thunder became her footsteps’ companion of concealment. The rain was ruthless, pouring down like a vicious waterfall, an utter downpour that allowed her to escape undetected. She had never been more thankful for a storm. Usually, poor weatherserved only as a punishment, locking her inside withhim, but today Maker of the Skies seemed to be her ally.

The streets had cleared too, leaving her boots a quick and clear path of escape. Alora rushed over puddle-soaked stones back toward the awaiting entrance of the alley. Back to the dead bodies now being washed clean of their stench until the blistering sun would scorch their putrid odor once again.

The dark shadows wrapped around her gaunt figure the moment she leapt over them and sprinted inside.

Alora inhaled a shaken breath; relief bubbled inside from the hidden refuge in the shadows. Her secret getaway, an unseen escape back to her side of the city. The darkness covered her as she knelt down under an awning, emptying the contents of the purse into her hand.

Twenty-five coins.

Twenty. Five. Coins.

It seemed impossible.

Utterly speechless as she sucked in a shallow breath, she allowed herself to feel the hope sitting in the palm of her hand. The deal was a success.

Alora pressed against the wall, drawing the other gamble from her boot. She clenched the onyx leather in her hand. By the mercy of lightning billowing across the sky, a crystal gemstone on the hilt reflected the flashing amethyst glow as she stood to inspect it. She had no specific reason to ask for it. It could prove useful for her personal safety—at best. Nothing more than a silly little knife.

But something like a coiled tether called to her when she glimpsed it. She could have happily walked away without it.

Perhaps she should have.

Alora twisted it between her fingertips, examining the exquisite craftsmanship. It was something magnificent, certainly. The shining night-dark blade wasn’t straight asexpected but had a serrated wave like a winding river instead. No more than maybe nine inches in length from hilt to sharpened tip. Whorls of matte-embossed smoke-like tendrils accented the obsidian blade until it settled at the spiraling black leather handle.

Her thumb traced the single, opalescent, star-shaped crystal jewel that rested perfectly near the top of the hilt, encased in the leather. Dragging the pad across the raised ridges of the stone and down until it dipped into two empty settings below, her eyes followed as she traced it.

Of course…

Typical snake. It gave me a damaged knife.Alora exhaled a vexed sigh.

Still, the slithering hiss of the green faerie echoed in her mind.‘Hold on to my knife for me. I may want it back one day.’

Alora scoffed, wrinkling her rosy porcelain face. If the green faerie thought it could cast another veil over her life, it was highly mistaken. She had lived her entire life in the shadows. They didn’t scare her anymore.