Page 9

Chapter

Nine

M y lonely footsteps echo through the empty halls of the east wing.

Glancing down at myself, I try to ascertain the state of my appearance. Since I meant to hide in the library all day, I never changed after my training session. I’m still wearing my fitted sleeveless tunic, now stained with several drops of blood. The fabric has torn in a few spots, leaving my skin visible underneath. Half the hair from my once sleek braid has come loose, curling around my face.

I would love to bathe and change into fresh clothes, but Baylor doesn’t enjoy being kept waiting. Instead, I untie the ribbon that still holds a few of the strands together and use my fingers to comb through the thick, messy waves. I let it hang in front of my shoulders, hoping to distract from my attire. Unfortunately, this is the best I can do.

I arrive at the king’s study and the guards usher me inside, not bothering to announce my presence. That lapse in protocol sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine.

I find Baylor pacing back and forth behind his desk, quietly muttering to himself. He keeps his eyes down, not acknowledging my presence as I enter the room. As odd as his behavior is, what concerns me most is his appearance. His jacket has been cast aside, leaving him in an untucked, wrinkly tunic. His usually smooth blond locks now fall into his face, tangled and stringy.

Alarms blare through my mind, signaling that something is wrong. He looks terrible… He looks like someone capable of murdering a God.

I shake my head, pushing the dark thought away.

“Baylor?” I ask tentatively.

At the sound of my voice, his head snaps up and his wild gaze connects with mine. For the first time since I’ve known him, the gift of eternal youth appears to have abandoned him. His usually brilliant skin is gray and haggard. Sweat peppers his brow, reminding me of what happens to mortals when they’re struck by illness.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, forcing myself to move closer while still keeping the desk between us as a buffer.

Lines appear around his mouth as he grimaces. “Someone has betrayed me, pet.”

With Baylor, every betrayal ends the same way. I ball my fists, bracing for whatever name I am about to receive. My mouth turns dry as I run through my mental list of courtiers. I’ve suspected several lords of harboring negative sentiments toward the king, not that I’d ever share that with him. Whoever it is, their betrayal has affected him deeply.

You can do this , I tell myself as I force my spine to straighten. You will be strong. You will endure.

“You are no longer allowed to leave the palace,” he announces.

The words echo through my mind, bouncing off my skull. Why would I not be allowed to leave? I thought we were discussing a betrayal…

My stomach sinks to the floor as a terrifying suspicion creeps into my mind.

“And I want a guard stationed by your door at all times,” he continues.

Dread floods through my veins, poisoning my blood. It’s only by the grace of the Fates that I manage to stay upright as the realization settles like a lightning strike straight to my gut.

The reaper did it.

I’d hoped I was calling his bluff, but clearly, he followed through on his threat to tell the king that I’m the Angel of Mercy. Underneath the shock is anger. I’m furious with myself for misjudging the situation. This is the kind of mistake I can’t afford to be making. Why did I think he wouldn’t actually do it? I’d gotten the impression there had been something he wanted from me, something other than my help stealing the whisperer . But apparently, I was wrong.

“Baylor, I can expl—” I cut myself off quickly as I remember my training. Liars try to fill the silence; honest people are more patient. Staying quiet, I mentally rehearse the cover story I was sure I wouldn’t have to use.

Murdering Lynal Skynner was a tactic to lure out the true Angel of Mercy. I know you said this matter was beneath me, but I hated seeing you upset, my king. I seek only to please you.

A guard shouts from the hallway, snapping my attention to the double doors. Muffled voices rise with anger and I pull one of my blades free just as a familiar chill lifts the hairs on the back of my neck.

“What is the meaning of this?” Baylor demands behind me.

The doors burst open, revealing the last person I want to see.

The reaper glides into the room as if he has every right to be here. His dark hair is pushed back, but a few stands have fallen across his forehead. Dressed in his signature black, he’s far more seductive than a soul collector should be. But what captures my attention the most is the fact that his wings are absent yet again.

“Your Majesty!” Huxley rushes into the room, appearing slightly worse for wear.

“Out!” Baylor orders the guard, his tone deadly. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“Oh, my apologies,” the reaper says, not sounding sorry at all. “Was I supposed to wait outside?”

Baylor’s temper becomes a palpable energy, sending ripples through the room. If the reaper isn’t careful, he’s going to push the king past his tipping point. I’ve seen what happens when he reaches that level. It isn’t pretty.

If he already told Baylor my secret, what is he doing here? Has he come to watch my punishment? Annoyance sparks when the bastard doesn’t even bother acknowledging my existence, his attention focused solely on the king.

“What are you doing here?” Baylor seethes.

The reaper’s eyes widen innocently. “It almost sounds as if you’re not happy to see me. Which is strange, given our new alliance.”

My heart gives a heavy thud against my chest. Alliance? Questions pound through my mind as they continue speaking.

“You’re mistaken,” Baylor says. “I’m overjoyed by your unexpected arrival, Lord Thorne.”

Thorne.

The name sits silently at the tip of my tongue as I suppress the urge to repeat it. To be honest, I’d forgotten I didn’t know his name. Reaper suited him.

“Oh good,” he says. “I’d hate to think I wasn’t welcome.”

My brows shoot up as Thorne helps himself to a plush chair near Baylor’s desk. It’s considered rude to sit before royalty unless they give you permission. From the hard glint in Baylor’s eyes, I’d say he noticed the snub. The king reclaims his own seat, his rigid posture completely at odds with the easy facade Thorne displays.

“While I’m here,” the reaper continues, his tone suspiciously light, “is there anything you want to tell me?”

Baylor shrugs, but the gesture comes off stilted. “Nothing comes to mind.”

Thorne cocks his head to the side, his glacial eyes narrowing. “Think hard. What did you have yesterday that has suddenly disappeared today?”

A muscle twitches along Baylor’s jaw as he tucks one of his blond strands behind his ear. “Whatever your spies have told you?—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Thorne cuts him off, dropping any pretense of friendliness. “I don’t need to remind you who I serve.”

Tingles rush over my skin, warning me that this is about to turn ugly. Moving as slowly as possible, I start backing toward the door. There’s no way I’m going to stay here and get caught in the cross hairs of their inevitable battle. Besides, it would appear the reaper has somehow made a deal with Baylor in exchange for the weapon he wanted. The whisperer . I’ve no idea what he’s giving up in exchange for that, but it doesn’t appear to be related to me. A small part of me wants to stay and get to the bottom of it, but my survival instincts are too strong.

Unfortunately, right as I’m about to make it to safety, a floorboard creaks under my foot. The king’s head whips in my direction, his shock making it clear he’d forgotten I was here.

“Leave us,” he growls.

I nod, already reaching for the door handle.

“She stays.” Thorne’s commanding voice stops me in my tracks.

My gaze snaps to his. Shivers skate over my skin as his attention shifts to me for the first time since he arrived.

“You overstep, Thorne. My pet doesn’t take orders from you.”

Distantly, I recognize that Baylor is speaking, but I can’t bring myself to look away as Thorne rises from his chair and prowls across the room.

Mirth dances behind his eyes as they rake over me. “So, this is the infamous wraith ?”

I bite my lip to keep from baring my teeth at him as he circles me, a predator searching for weaknesses.

“She’s not involved in this,” Baylor insists, pushing to his feet.

“Yet another failing on your part,” the reaper murmurs, coming to a stop directly in front of me, leaving only an inch between us.

“Remember your place, ambassador ,” Baylor’s words are like chips of ice.

“Remember yours, King ,” Thorne taunts. “Don’t forget I speak on behalf of a God .”

My eyes go round as my head whips toward Baylor. Heat crawls up his neck, staining his skin with the evidence of his fury. Whether Thorne knows it or not, he just pressed on Baylor’s biggest insecurity. He’s extremely sensitive to any reminders that out of all the rulers of the Verran Isles, he is the only one who isn’t a God.

I take several steps back, putting space between myself and the ambassador. Baylor’s hands grip the edge of his desk so tightly I’m surprised the wood doesn’t snap in half. His temper is seconds away from lashing out at whoever’s in his sight.

“You need this alliance more than we do,” Thorne carries on, completely ignoring the danger as he turns away from me. “Don’t forget that. Or do you no longer require our grain?”

That’s what this trade is for? Grain in exchange for the whisperer ?

Baylor stays silent as suspicion curls around the edges of my thoughts. While some rulers might endure humiliation to ensure their people are fed, Baylor wouldn’t make this type of trade unless it was his own pantry that had gone bare. So, either the food shortages are much more dire than he’s let on, or there’s something else Baylor believes he will receive from this alliance.

Something worth the loss of such a powerful weapon.

“Killian is a benevolent God,” Thorne says, moving toward the king once more. “He understands that none of this unfortunate business was your doing. He’s agreed to make sure you receive our first shipment of grain by the end of the week.”

“That’s generous of him,” Baylor begrudgingly admits.

“Remember, generosity only extends so far. If that blade is not recovered, there will be no more shipments.” Thorne places his hands on the desk, leaning over it. “And there will be no more alliance.”

Blade.

My mind reels. The weapon Thorne has been searching for, the whisperer, is a blade. Just like the weapon the book claimed was able to kill Claudius. Does this confirm my fears that they are one and the same? Has Baylor truly had such a powerful weapon in his possession all this time?

Baylor bristles under the reapers stare. “I assure you that everything is being done to find it. My men are currently searching the tunnels where the sword was last seen. If the thief left a trail, they will uncover it.”

Tunnels? Didn’t Darrow mention that the whisperer was kept in a tunnel deep underneath the palace? I believed I’d explored every inch of this place over the years, but evidently not. If there are guards searching down there, I’d imagine Remy is with them. That’s probably what he got pulled away for this morning.

“Forgive me if I’m not overly confident,” Thorne replies, turning his back on the king once more as he returns to the chair. “Wasn’t it one of your own guards who stole the weapon in the first place?”

Well, that’s unfortunate. It also explains what Baylor meant earlier when he said someone had betrayed him.

The king’s eyes sharpen. “How did you know that?”

Thorne waves his hand as he sits down. “I truly don’t have time to explain everything I know that you don’t.”

Baylor grinds his teeth so hard I’m sure they are going to crack, but thankfully, he doesn’t rise to the reaper’s bait.

“And just so you’re aware,” Thorne continues, “I plan to be involved in every step of this investigation. Starting right now.”

Baylor nods his head. “Of course.”

“And your wraith will act as my personal liaison, aiding me in the search however I see fit.”

My brows shoot toward my hairline. Thorne’s gaze momentarily flits toward me, a small smirk curving his lips. What game is he playing? He’s enjoying riling up the king and giving him nothing in return. Does he have any idea how dangerous this is? For both of us?

The room is silent as Baylor stares at the reaper with restrained hatred. He despises being made to feel small, and that’s exactly what Thorne has done.

“My pet and I will need to discuss your proposal privately,” Baylor says coolly.

“Of course.” Thorne rises from his chair, not bothering hiding his smile as he turns to face me. “I’m sure someone such as your wraith could truly accomplish anything if properly motivated. You are lucky to have such an angel by your side.”

My breath catches. Does he mean what I think he means? Was that a threat? Either I convince Baylor to let me help, or Thorne reveals my secret. He can’t be serious…

Victory flashes behind his pale eyes, and I know I’m right.

“I’ll be in the hall,” he says to Baylor, “eagerly awaiting your decision.”

A surge of helplessness flows through me as I watch him exit the room. Does he realize the position he’s put me in? Baylor’s temper needs somewhere to strike, and I’m now the only target left in the room. And he wants me to somehow convince the king to let me join him in his search? Terror twists my insides as the door clicks shut. I turn to face my lover, my heart galloping in my chest. Baylor moves around the desk, coming to stand before me.

“I’m disappointed, Iverson.”

My fingers twitch at the coldness in his tone, that same icy frost that has overtaken him many times before, making him unpredictable. The emptiness in his eyes makes my skin crawl. Even when I still believed he loved me, I was petrified when he’d get this way. He’s dangerous at the best of times, but this type of fury almost always descends into violence.

“I told you to leave,” he says softly. “You know better than to disobey me, pet.”

Without warning, the collar activates, seizing my throat with enough force to snap my head back against the wall.