Chapter 37

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

" W hat do you want from me, Rebella?" I ask.

She gives me a look that's suddenly so bleak, it cuts into my heart. "I want you to end your father's reign so that my son can come home." Her voice becomes a snarl. "I want you to do what even the assassins haven't been able to do: tear at the rotten soul of that ecosystem until it's clean again."

My chest squeezes. But of course, I should have guessed that her wishes would align with mine.

Even so, I'm cautious. "In your version of a clean ecosystem, what happens to dark creatures?"

"Balance," she says. "Darkness is needed. Just as light is needed. The Nostra Empire used to respect this, but your father has been tipping the scales in the wrong direction for the last two decades, influencing other dark creatures to make choices they would not otherwise have made. He must be stopped."

She takes a shaky breath. "Come with me. I will take you to Jormungandr now."

That's James's true name. Jormungandr, the World Serpent.

She turns toward the far corner of the cabin and sweeps past it, pausing only to check that I'm following her.

I consider what she said as I follow her around the side of the cabin, processing the heart of her message.

Dark creatures need balance.

We need our darkness. But we also need the light.

I follow Rebella through another layer of trees before we exit into a wide clearing.

A bench is located on the far side, but otherwise, the clearing is empty.

A moment after we step into the clearing, James appears abruptly between the trees, taking quick strides toward us. I eye the air around him, taking note of the glimmer in the air when he appears.

He hurries straight toward me. But it's clear he's speaking to Rebella when he says, "Good. You didn't kill her."

Rebella gives him a smile as she saunters up to him, draws him to a stop, and plants a kiss on his lips. "I tried. But she's as resourceful as you said she is."

James returns Rebella's embrace, his arm remaining around her as he returns his attention to me.

I'm surprised—but also not surprised—to see the affection between them. The fact that a fury like Rebella could love this old god, who must have accumulated layer upon layer of blood on his hands, is stunning to me.

At the same time, I knew Elijah came from somewhere.

I'm also a little uncertain of the changes in James's appearance.

He's a tall, lean man with dark-brown hair that falls across his brown eyes. His previously short and neatly sculpted beard is longer and scruffier, and the scar that runs down the left side of his forehead and cheekbone seems more pronounced.

The last time I saw James, he was dressed in a tailored suit. Now, he's in jeans and a flannel shirt that looks as roughed-up as his beard. The only really consistent aspect of his appearance is the katana sword resting in a scabbard at his back, its braided handle visible over his right shoulder.

I eye him warily, thrown by the drastic change in his appearance and conscious of the weapon at his back.

Not that he needs it.

He wears living snakes across his torso that masquerade as tattoos and come to life when he needs them. They can immobilize their prey with a single injection of poison.

Come to think of it, it makes him a little like Rebella in that aspect.

He greets me formally. "Veda Nostra, Daughter of the Nostra Empire. Welcome."

Well, it certainly beats Daughter of Assholes , the title I adopted when I was on Ryuji's island.

Given how formally he greeted me, I return his salutation in kind. "Jormungandr. Old god." I arch an eyebrow at his beard. "Looking your age."

Without responding to my verbal jab, he gestures to the bench. "I'm sure you've come for information. I'm happy to give it. But I'm also certain that being out here in the open is as bad for your health as it is for mine. If you will sit, Rebella will guard our location, and I will answer your questions as promptly as possible. Then we can both disappear again."

I'm not entirely sure where he intends to disappear to . Or where he might have come from just now. I guess I assumed he would be hiding out in the cabin, but instead, he's gesturing me toward a bench in an open space that feels unnecessarily open and exposed.

But he's offering answers, and for the first time in a long time, I don't doubt I'll get the truth.

Possibly, it's something to do with the fury casting her daunting gaze over us.

Furies hate lies.

I try to hide my smile as I picture her setting upon James at the first hint of an untruth.

I take a seat and don't mince words. "How do I destroy my father?"

James gives me a sudden smile. "You already are. Destroying him."

I scowl. "I thought you were going to give me prompt answers."

His hands rise, a placating gesture. "I'm not evading your question. But I want you to know that you're playing a far cleverer game with your father's fate than I ever anticipated you might."

I lean back a little, contemplating the old god. "You expected me to be reckless."

"I truly thought that if Galeia's child were ever to escape the prison we searched desperately to find for years… well, I thought you would be blinded by hate. How could you not be? I anticipated that you would strike with swift and violent retribution." He tips his head as he studies me. "Which would have gotten you killed."

I grit my teeth. "Ending Taiven Nostra is certainly on my mind."

James gives me a soft smile. "Ah, but your mother was an extremely intelligent person. I'm certain she foresaw that if she told you the truth—that your father was the monster who forced you into darkness—you would have gone straight for his throat.

"Instead, you slipped into his life without warning. You went to him with an impossible love in your heart. And, when you discovered that your love was misplaced, you struck with increasing impact." James's smile turns dark. "It is the careful knife that is the most effective."

I suppose I didn't see it like that, but it feels more real as James continues.

"You have systematically stripped away the outer layers of your father's armor," he says. "First, you gave me my freedom, which in turn gave Jonah his freedom. Then you stole your father's most valuable possessions: not only The Book of Dark Magic , but also his only heir."

My eyes widen. "You mean Lucian?"

James nods. "Lucian may have suffered at Taiven's hands, but without him, Taiven can't promise his followers that the Nostra Empire will continue beyond his own death. He can't promise them stability. You've thrown it all into disarray."

I chew over this. I'm certain that Lucian was never encouraged to understand how crucial he might be to our father's hold on power.

James gives a sudden snort. "Then you went and made friends with the crimson wolves. Of all the fierce creatures you could have made peace with. And allied yourself with the dragon masters. A nearly impossible feat, even for other dragon shifters. Between the wolves and the dragons, you have secured powerful allies who not only walk in the light, but also have significant influence over the actions of other supernaturals."

James eyes me. "Most importantly, and perhaps most astonishingly, you haven't killed a single supernatural in the process."

As I chew on what he said, he continues to study me.

"You may have even paved the way for a reconciliation between me and my sister," he says.

"Ha!" I scoff at that. "Halle would rather char your bones."

He sighs softly. "I would have thought so, too, but here I am, out in the open, and she hasn't come to kill me yet."

He looks dramatically around at our surroundings, as if he expects the goddess to appear at any moment.

I hate to burst his bubble by telling him that might have something to do with the fierce woman guarding us.

His tone becomes disgruntled as he continues. "Actually, I thought I might be higher on Halle's list of priorities."

I consider him carefully, refocusing the conversation with a certainty I can't deny. "I can't wield a careful knife any longer."

A hint of wariness enters his eyes. "Can you tell me why not?"

"The keeper is dying," I say. "I don't know how to save him, but I know that the time for patience is over."

James's expression grows immediately grim, and, across the way, Rebella startles, glancing back at us.

"This is very bad news," James says.

A silent communication occurs between him and Rebella, at the end of which she gives him another bleak look.

When he speaks, James sounds unexpectedly hesitant. "Before I give you my advice, Veda, may I ask you a question?"

"Okay."

"Did the keeper offer you his crown?"

"I refused it. Taking it will kill him."

"Damn." James stares at me for a long moment. I stare right back at him, unflinching even as his eyes take on a slightly crimson hue, an alarmingly powerful color.

Then, his gaze flicks once more to Rebella. She tilts her head, a knowing expression on her face. What she thinks she knows, I can't possibly discern.

James returns his attention to me, his voice unexpectedly hard now. "So you have chosen to forgo limitless power—power that would allow you to claim the Nostra Empire without a fight—because it would mean the death of your…" He falters. "What is the keeper to you?"

Friend. Enemy. Lover. Confidant.

Wild, dark presence in my life.

A good person caged for the survival of others.

My own personal monster.

I breathe out. Then in. The same way I saw the crimson wolf do in the forest of Portland.

But no matter how hard I try to calm my response, all I can do is snarl. "That's none of your fucking business."

"I see." James remains grim. "Then you're correct: the patient knife is no longer an option. You must cut Taiven off at the knees. Swiftly, decisively, and publicly."

"How do I do that?" I ask, mentally noting the distinction between killing my father and bringing him to his knees.

For a moment, darkness flashes within James's eyes, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the possibility that an entire world exists within his mind. The mind of the World Serpent is constrained within this living body.

"In a fight you must win on your own, Veda," he says. "You must fight without your pack. Without backup. Since you have chosen to forego the power we all fear, you must prove that you are just as formidable without it. No matter what, it must be a definitive kill."

"Who?" I push. "If not my father, who do I need to kill?"

James pauses before he says, "The gargoyle king."

I don't hesitate.

"Gladly," I snarl. "That's the clan that betrayed Lucian's mother."

James nods. "The very same. I didn't think you'd have a problem with it. Their leader calls himself a king, but he doesn't have a shred of royal blood in his body. It was Lucian's mother who carried that line, descended from the last gargoyle queen—Queen Incorruptible—herself. It was why Taiven wanted her."

Well, it's no fucking wonder Anarchy was so delighted to lick up Lucian's blood if it's royal.

I can't stop my teeth from sharpening. "Tell me about this false king."

"His name is Gregor Stonne. He has proven very difficult to kill, primarily because of your father's protection. But he will be vulnerable for the first time tonight."

I jolt a little. It's sooner than I thought it'd be. "How so?" I ask. "If he's so hard to kill, suddenly making himself vulnerable seems out of character."

"It is." James nods emphatically. "But you disappeared for two weeks, and your father's search has turned up empty?—"

" Two weeks ?" I stare at James in confusion, trying to make sense of that timeframe. I was gone for a month on the island and it's only been two days at most since I stole the book. "It's only been two days."

James blinks at me. "You stole the book two weeks ago." The crease in his forehead clears. "Oh. But of course. You've been in the Underworld."

I nod.

"Time passes more slowly there," he explains. "A day in there is a week out here. It's a quirk of hell. The price for visiting is time."

Damn . Well, what's done is done, so I quickly gather my thoughts. "Okay, so the longer I evade my father, the weaker he appears."

"And the more flustered he becomes. He has demanded a meeting of the heads of the most powerful dark families. Human and supernatural alike. He is desperate to crush the rumors of your growing strength and shore up his control of the Nostra Empire." James pauses to smile at me. "You pushed him to this."

"Me and my careful knife," I murmur.

"You must go to this meeting. Announce your claim to the empire in front of the other families."

"But rather than assassinate my father, I will challenge the gargoyle king instead?"

"You must kill him on the spot. Only then will you convince the other families of your strength and force your father to bow to you."

I scoff. "Taiven will never bow. He will fight to the death."

"Of course. At which point, you must kill him," James says. "But only after you give him a chance to yield."

"Why?" I ask.

James considers me quietly for a moment. "You are not your father, Veda. You must show the other leaders that you have the power to end your enemies. But you must also show them that you are completely in control. You choose when you will or will not strike. You are above them. Always. Only then will you control the empire."

Control is everything.

My mother drummed that into me. Damn, she was smart about what she taught me.

But in the last two days—or two weeks, as it turns out—I've learned how much control I don't have. Wresting it back is going to take a lot of conviction.

"Where is this meeting taking place?" I ask.

"At the White Wing Tavern. 8 p.m. tonight."

My eyebrows arch in surprise. "But I know that place. It's more public than other places my father could meet with the leaders. Why would he choose such an exposed position?"

The White Wing Tavern is where I met James and Jonah for the first time. The front of the building is a regular restaurant. Behind and beneath it is a maze of underground corridors and tunnels.

I'd gained access to one of its hidden rooms through a green door that Mom had told me about, which was situated at the back of the restaurant. As it turned out, Halle had placed a spell on that door and the corridor beyond it with the intent to kill anyone who stepped inside it. Her target had been James, since it was their own special entrance.

I'd waltzed through the door and the corridor without a scratch or even any awareness of the danger that place had posed to me.

"He knows you know about the White Wing," James replies. "After Jonah and I met you there, we told him about you."

"Ah." I purse my lips. "So he wants me to come for him."

"You've evaded him for two weeks, Veda. If he can't find you, he'll lure you in."

"He's confident he can beat me."

"Like you, he needs his victory to be seen by the other leaders."

I breathe out carefully as I consider my options. Not many. Or rather, none. "I'll walk into a trap."

James grimaces. "Effectively, yes."

Is it still a trap if I know about it?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I suddenly narrow my eyes at James. "You've been out of his inner circle for weeks now. How do you know about this?"

"I have a contact in the gargoyle clan," he says. "Someone who isn't so happy with her clan's leadership?—"

He doesn't have time to say more because across the clearing, Rebella suddenly startles.

"Incoming!" she cries.

"Ours or Taiven's?" James asks, his shoulders tense as he rises half out of the seat.

"Ours." Her eyes are wide. "But that's just as fraught. You know how protective they are. Veda's intentions have been very unknown. They will fear the worst and attack first. They will think only of protecting me."

My senses are prickling and my back is suddenly itching like mad. That unwanted crawling sensation floods me, as if my wings will release despite my efforts to control them.

My focus is drawn to the sky, but I can't see past the canopy of branches.

I find myself bracing for the ear-splitting sound I would hear each time the air dragons visited the island, because the power currently screaming in our direction is as immense as that of the dragon masters.

My claws snap out and I'm on my feet in an instant. "Who are they?"

James grimaces. "Assassins."