Page 43 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

She held her face, and I held a crushing grip on Hob’s shoulder.

“Stay the hells down,” I gritted out. I’d thought Hob would murder me before, but the look of pure rage in his eyes sealed the truth of it. Quickly, I handed him a dagger. “You’ll get the killing blow.”

I released him and took a heavy step to the edge of the loft.

My mistake was thinking Edvard Vill had any semblance of self-control. The timetable was rushed, but we had enough. They knew how to get into the grove, and their name could lead us there.

I’d vowed to Hob that his woman wouldn’t be harmed, and already there was a bruise on her face making me a liar.

“Do you feel like a man now?” My voice was made of ice. “Hitting a woman two heads shorter than you and only as thick as your unseemly neck? How courageous.”

I lowered to one knee at the loft. Darkness swirled around my shoulders.

“Malevolent,” Oskar breathed out.

I clicked my tongue. “I do hate that name.”

Oskar feared suffocating. In the next breath, a coil of darkness wrapped around his throat.

Edvard feared being helpless, left to the mercy of others. I darkened his eyes and robbed him of strength. He crumbled back into his chair, crying out from the terror of it. From deep in the longhouse, a woman screamed, then another. No doubt the bastard had more than one lover in his bed.

If they were wise, they’d run now.

With her brothers subdued, Hob practically slid down the ladder.

He cupped Inge’s face, wiping tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. The hawker studied the splotch of red on her face. “I’ll kill him.”

“In time, Hob,” I said lazily.

Herja and Gunnar came to us next, arrows aimed at the guards. Raum followed, then Tor. His palms ignited in the blue pyre, and I took a bit of pleasure when Oskar’s eyes widened.

I chuckled and waved a hand to release the two men from my mesmer.

Oskar fell to his knees, clutching his throat. Edvard couldn’t catch his breath when his eyes focused again. He was given no mercy, no time to reorient, before I rammed the point of a small knife through the top of his hand, pinning his palm to the arm of the chair.

With a roar of pain, he slumped forward and retched.

I gripped his hair, wrenching his head back, so he’d meet my eyes. “No, no. Look at me. We have so much to talk about.”

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

THE MEMORY THIEF

There wassomething delightfully appealing when Kase’s darkness took hold. A smile spread over my lips when a terror-soaked cry burst through the night.

The first scream from the brutish brother was our signal to wreak havoc on the small homestead. Inge’s brothers owned the land, only ten lengths from Jagged Grove. Idyllic, really. Until tonight.

Before Edvard Vill’s roar of pain ceased, more screams rose from the stable hands, women, and children as they began to flee. Warriors from the North, along with Niklas and Isak, tormented the serfs and remaining family of House Vill, forcing them out of their warm beds.

“Take them.” I made a quick gesture to Lynx. “Show them we have the control here.”

Lynx stepped to the edge of the rooftop. He raised his palms, closed his eyes, and soon the screams faded. Like stumbling drunkards, the folk fell on their feet. Some clung to posts on the goat pens, trying to remain upright.

In the torchlight, a pretty woman with long flaxen braids, struggled to grab a staggering boy with messy hair. Wrapped against her chest was what looked to be an infant. No more than a few months old if I had to guess.

Only once she had her arms around the little boy did her body begin to succumb to Lynx’s calming mesmer.

My heart shot to my throat as I pointed toward the young mother. “Catch her! Catch her!”