Page 3 of Night Fae

Guard rotations wouldn't have changed – the Court clung to tradition like a dying man to life. Eight minutes between patrols on the east wall. Seven on the north. Patterns he'd memorized so long ago they felt carved into his bones.

He flowed from shadow to shadow, timing his movements in ways that had been drilled into him since he'd first started to walk.

If he didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't be seen.

But the guards' gazes weren't all he had to contend with.

The palace wards tingled against his skin, recognizing old blood. He held his breath, waiting to see if they would raise the alarm. But the magic settled, remembering him as one of its own despite his years away.

Zev didnotbelong here anymore, but he did not let that thought stop him.

Up the wall. Across the roof. Down to a window he knew would give him a view into the guest wing. He pressed against the stone, peering through darkened glass into a well-appointed sitting room.

Malik was there, seated at an ornate table, reaching for a goblet.

Not a good idea.

Zev pressed his palm against the glass, reaching for the wards with his magic. The window latch clicked open.

Silent as a whisper, Zev slipped inside, crossed the room in three strides, and knocked the goblet from Malik's hand. Wine splashed across the white tablecloth.

"What the—" Malik jerked back, then his eyes widened. "Zev?"

"Keep your voice down," Zev hissed. "And don't eat or drink anything they give you."

"But they fixed my leg."

Zev blinked, gaze swerving down to look at the human's legs. "They did what?"

"They gave me this potion that?—"

"They did that to buy your trust," Zev cut in. How could Malik fail to realize this?

Why did none of Zev's companions know how to be cautious?

"Are you sure about that?" Malik asked. "Where do you think the others are?"

Zev didn't have time to reply.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Multiple sets, moving with purpose.

Curses. They would be here soon.

Zev could dart away as easily as he'd gotten in—but Malik? The wards would tear him apart. Running now would mean leaving him behind.

Besides, Zev did not want to leave before he even knew what was going on.

One second, he took in the layout of the room; the next, he dashed for a heavy wardrobe, slipping inside just as the door opened.

"Ah, you haven't touched your food."

That voice…

No, it couldn't be.

A cold shiver trickled down Zev's spine. He'd expected guards or maybe some lower ranking officer to check on Malik.

He hadn't expected Lord Darius vel Nacht. Head of the Noble House of Night.