Page 57 of Vicious Princess (The Trials of Death and Honor #1)

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

T hankfully Roman’s stationed as one of the fae patrolling the perimeter of the warehouse. I find him in a narrow alley not far from where I was hiding on the roof.

“What’s up?” Roman jerks his chin at me, stepping out of the shadows.

I shake my head. “Not here. Follow me.”

Without asking any questions, my only fae friend does. We quickly make our way back to the rooftop where Daegel waits. He’s less than impressed when he sees Roman with me.

I don’t care.

We need backup, and Roman is the only one skilled enough to be a valuable ally in a fight. While he’s smart enough to figure things out, and it puts us—puts Daegel —at risk, I trust him in my gut not to betray me.

Roman kneels, making himself as small as possible so that the enemy doesn’t notice his tall frame hanging out on one of the neighboring roofs.

“This is not part of Ezkai Gavriel’s plan,” Roman says, looking between me and Daegel.

“There has been a change of plans,” I say. “If we follow Ezkai Gavriel’s plan, not only will be fail, but we’ll be fucking dead.”

Roman purses his lips. “I told you we can’t trust that old prune. Nobody as uptight as he is should be assigned to lead.”

I snort a laugh. “Noted for the future, Roman.”

“I assume you called me here because you have a new plan,” Roman says.

I nod. “Yes.”

Before the next words come out of my mouth, I pause. My heart flutters in my chest, as if it’s a hummingbird trapped in a cage of flesh and bone.

If I’m wrong about this, if Roman isn’t my friend, then I will condemn Daegel.

The one I love will suffer.

With a long controlled exhale, I get my bearings and say, “Roman, you said we’re friends.

” He nods, more serious than ever. Actually , now that I think about it…

I don’t need to give too much information away.

Roman doesn’t need to know the details to execute effectively.

I clear my throat. “Then make sure you don’t fucking die today. ”

Roman flashes his most dazzling smile at me. “You got it, princess.”

I sense the shift in Daegel’s mood without looking at him when Roman addresses me as princess .

Who would have thought he’s such a territorial asshole?

Kind of hot, I have to admit.

“Gloria Esclar is not the only target we need to take out,” I say carefully.

“Ezkai Daegel was part of the earlier mission, and he reminded me of the shadowy figures that sit on those thrones on a platform. Remember?” Roman nods.

“While we don’t know all their identities, because I haven’t met them, it’s safe to assume they’re important. ”

Roman frowns. “Why didn’t Ezkai Xander say anything about it?”

“Good question, Cadet Barthol. It could have been a simple mistake of overlooking details, or it could be that Ezkai Xander is under strict orders not to reveal any information he doesn’t think is necessary by the General’s master of spies. He must have his reasons,” Daegel says.

I feel terrible for lying to Roman to cover Daegel’s ass, but before the feeling take roots and blooms into something troublesome, I push all those emotions away and focus on the task at hand.

“Understood, sir,” Roman says. “So we have three targets, potentially. But we only know the face of one.”

“Yes, that’s the issue. Because we don’t have the numbers, we need to be careful about how we approach this,” I say.

“Why don’t we just get more Ezkai to help us?”

Roman’s question is valid. I’m speechless, trying to find an answer that won’t expose Daegel?—

“There’s no time, cadet,” Daegel says curtly. “We must go inside in a minute.”

Quickly, Daegel shares the new plan with Roman. Then we’re on the move.

Thankfully, Roman asks no questions when instead of using one of the scouted back entrances, we use the fourth one the Ezkai don’t know about. Wordlessly, I lead the way. If Roman does have questions, I can explain that this is the back entrance I used to leave after meeting with Gloria.

No need to involve Daegel.

The alley is quiet, and there’s nobody outside, just like the last time. I open up my senses, reaching beyond the door in front of us, but it’s only emptiness. Just as I reach for the handle to yank it open, Daegel hisses, “Masks! Put on your damn masks!”

With a quick glance over my shoulder, I see that he’s already wearing his—not an inch of his face is visible.

“Right,” I murmur and pull around the mask that rests on the back of my head and secure it over my face.

Despite it covering only my face, it feels like impenetrable shield. With an exhale, I pull the door handle, and then we’re in.

The temperature inside the warehouse dips a couple of degrees. We pause and listen. I extend my senses to feel out where the nearest fae are, but there are none.

We only need to be aware of other Decarios.

“Let’s move,” Daegel orders in a whisper and takes charge.

Roman and I stick close to the cold, damp walls as we rush through the intricate network of corridors leading to Gloria’s office.

Just as we turn another corner and I think we’ve arrived, it turns out to be another empty corridor. It hits me—I would not find my way here on my own.

Daegel knows this place like the palm of his hand. I wonder how often he visits, and most importantly, why .

One more left turn, and two more right turns before the familiar metal staircase emerges in front of us.

Daegel lifts a hand, and we pause.

I strain my ears to listen and open my senses again.

I brace myself for a fight, but Daegel waves for us to move forwards. Once we reach the staircase, he ducks behind it and turns to Roman.

“Cadet Barthol, you’re to hide and remain here until Cadet Wildarrow or I show up,” Daegel quickly says.

“Survey the environment and note everyone who comes in and out of Gloria’s office upstairs.

Do not, and I repeat, do not engage the target on your own until at least one of us returns. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman says and dips his chin.

With a curt nod, Daegel pivots to leave. Before I follow him, I turn to Roman and jab a finger in his chest. “I meant it earlier. Do not fucking die on me.”

I can’t see Roman’s face, but through the slits in the mask, I can see his eyes sparkle as he winks and nods.

I dip my chin in acknowledgment, too, and follow Daegel.

Again, he’s the one who navigates the corridors. I follow, making sure my feet are quick and quiet.

We turn a corner.

Voices echo somewhere farther down the corridor. Before I can even react, Daegel pushes me back against the wall.

Thank fuck Ezkai leathers are black.

We blend into the shadows, quietly pressed against the wall while we wait for two fae to pass just around the corner. Thankfully they’re not Decarios, just a couple of bartenders.

Once they’re far away, we’re back on our feet. Daegel quickens his pace, and I push myself to catch up with him. We must be fairly close to the main area of the warehouse, because the chatter, laughs, and screams come in waves from somewhere in the distance.

We round a corner and walk to a wall with a long iron ladder. Daegel turns to me and gestures at it. I nod and climb first. Daegel’s not far behind me. At the very top of the ladder, there’s a round door with a latch.

Quietly I open it and push the door open.

The smell of smoke and alcohol mixed with blood and sweat fills my nostrils.

Through the small opening in the wall, I crawl onto a narrow iron landing.

We’re right at the very top of the main warehouse hall, close enough to the ceiling that I can’t stand without hitting my head on one of the pipes that run along the length of it in an intricate system.

Daegel crawls after me and closes the door.

On one knee, I scout the area under us.

We have an amazing vantage point from here—not only of the whole floor but also the overhanging platform where three shadowed figures occupy all three thrones. They’re in the middle of a competition, a huge crowd of fae gathered right at the iron fence, screaming at the two fae brawling.

Blood sprays everywhere when the larger fae punches his opponent, but the bald, short fae recovers quickly and goes for his opponent’s ribs.

Without taking my eyes off the fight, I ask, “How long until the meeting?”

“Anytime now.”

I try to focus on the mission at hand, but I can’t help the curiosity that pushes me to ask the next question: “How do you know the back of Gloria’s warehouse so well?”

A beat of silence. Then: “Leti. She’s one of my father’s soldiers who serves as a spy in Gloria’s business.”

My head whips towards him. “Leti is your father’s spy?”

Daegel nods. I wish I could see his face for this damn conversation.

“How long were you together?”

I’m surprised when he answers immediately. “We were together for…a long time. On and off since we were sixteen up until we broke up, actually seriously broke up, a little over a year ago.”

Fuck me. She was his adolescent sweetheart. That’s no small thing.

The words are bitter on my tongue. “Why did you break up? For real this time?”

“We weren’t right for each other. We never were. That’s why we kept breaking up and then getting back together just to break up again. It was a volatile relationship, an extremely toxic one.”

What he’s not saying is that it was full of passion.

“Did your family approve of her?”

Daegel chuckles. “Father never did. He’d only approve of a romantic relationship that offers a valuable alliance. Mother never cared.”

Before I can ask anything else, a movement on the platform above the pit catches my attention.

One of the shadowy figures stands and descends the stairs to where two bouncers—the same ones who dragged me to Gloria’s office—meet the figure.

“Gloria’s on the move,” I say, sliding my bow off my shoulder.

“Wait,” Daegel orders. “She needs to be in the meeting for our plan to work.”

I nod and lower my bow. Patience is not my strong suit, and with the stakes as high as this… Anticipation crawls under my skin, making it hard to sit still.

Gloria’s approached by a short fae wearing a hat with a colorful plume that throws a shadow over his features. He’s flanked by two large fae in crisp suits.

I open my senses and reach towards them. It’s hard to navigate all the emotional networks in the warehouse, but I find the flow of wariness streaming from the fae in the hat.

There’s nothing coming off his escorts. Just as expected.

Slowly, Gloria and the fae in the hat make their way towards the double door to the back, their bodyguards following in their wake. With each step they take, my heart pumps my blood quicker, adrenaline coursing through me like the most potent drug.

Once they disappear behind the heavy iron door, Daegel says, “Wait. Wait. ”

The brawl in the cage escalates, the two fighters so bloodied and bruised, I can’t even make out their facial features anymore.

But despite barely standing, they keep going at each other.

“ Now ,” Daegel says.

I pick up my bow and aim at the first shadowy figure.

My bow is an extension of me, part of my consciousness. Part of my being. It hums a song only I understand.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Let go.

The arrow lands true in the first shadowy figure’s heart. Before the second can rouse, I draw another arrow.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Let go.

When the second arrow lands true and the second life dims, my bow purrs in my mind, pleased.

“Let’s move,” Daegel orders.

We have less than ten minutes to get to Gloria’s office and take her out before the news about her brothers’ deaths can reach her. Once the brawl is over, they’ll notice the shadowy figures are down.

I follow Daegel through the small door, down the ladder. This time around, we don’t walk. We run towards Gloria’s office.

As we round the corner, we bump into three fae.

Before they can even understand what’s happening, Daegel and I slice their throats with our blades, him killing one more than me. We don’t bother hiding the bodies.

Roman waits for us hidden behind the stairs. When we approach, he reveals himself.

“There are more fae upstairs than the target and her bodyguards. There’s another fae with two of his bodyguards. He’s not a Decarios, but his bouncers are.” Roman’s words come out in a rush.

I nod. “We saw.” I glance at Daegel and then back at Roman. “We leave no survivors. They’re all criminals.”

Roman nods.

Daegel climbs the stairs, and I gesture for Roman to follow first.

I grab the railing and set my foot on the first step when a familiar voice from behind me says, “Well, well, well. Who do we have here?”