Chapter 28

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

ALYX

I wait impatiently for the sun to set, and as soon as the last rays disappear over the horizon, I am out of the window of my rooms and racing through the dusk. My body is concealed in an all-black outfit, and my weapons are strapped to my body. All the jewels that hold me down are left behind. I shed them all like a cloak, and I let the real me out to play. What I told Joha was true, we must make a move, but first, I have an assassin to deal with.

I may have kissed Crux, slept in his arms, and known him all my life, but I cannot let this slide. I was not joking when I told Joha that Crux is death, and just like death, he does not have the same morals most do. Even I have more than he does. To Crux, Joha is just in his way. He would kill him as easily as he would take his next breath and not feel a thing. I admire it even though it scares me.

Joha could be facing certain death right this moment, so even though I have been at Crux’s side for years, I leave the palace to warn him to leave the king alone.

I tell myself it’s because I need him alive for my plan. I tell myself lots of things, lots of lies, but my racing heart betrays me. Each second I waste is another Crux could be stalking the king. His little rats in the palace told me, however, that he is in the Lowers tonight, so that is where I head.

Usually, you do not find an assassin, we find you, but not tonight because I’m hunting him.

I should have known, though, that when we do not want to be found, we will not be. I spend hours searching the Lowers and all our safe houses, but he is nowhere in sight. Either he is in hiding or he does not want to be found, and despite my skills, Crux taught me everything I know, so he knows exactly how to avoid me if he wishes.

Snarling in annoyance, I leave the abandoned house behind, my last hopeful spot to find him. I could spend days searching and never find him unless he allows it.

I have wasted too much of the night as it is, and I still need to make my move before the sun rises or the king will be in even more danger.

Who knew keeping a spoiled, rich man alive would be so tiring?

He was right. He has enemies everywhere.

Deciding to switch up our game, I snag one of Crux’s little rats from the next street. Pinning him to the wall, I raise my eyebrow at him. “Send a message to your master for me.”

“Mistress.” He nods, his eyes eager and wide, face streaked with dirt.

“Stay away from the king. Find me or I will find you.” I release him and watch him scuttle away to deliver the message.

Turning, I pull my hood higher and leave the Lowers behind, using the tunnels under the bridge to cross to the other side.

I have other things to attend to, and most might have thought I spent my afternoon aimlessly wandering the palace or painting near the lake, but I was waiting, watching, and learning, and tonight I put the information I gleaned into action.

Crux’s little rats are good for some things, and I might have been stuck acting as the perfect princess, but they were not, and they got me exactly what I wanted.

I stand before a noble’s house within Cairn Province. This family deals with shipments of jewels, which is not surprising since everyone in Cairn is in the shipping business. This noble family, Beaumont, is one of the wealthiest, and after some digging, it was obvious they have been smuggling other things in their shipments. One of their cargo ships sank just last moon, however, leaving them in debt and in desperate need of money.

Desperate people do desperate things—like try to kill the king.

As I stare at the grand stone house, I let my anger consume me. It’s the darkness I use when I hunt, and I let it wrap around me like a lover. The lights are bright inside, and the flowers shine even in the moonlight, yet in their midst is an assassin and they have no clue. For all their power and advantages, nothing can protect them from the dark or the likes of me.

I will make my move to secure the king. It will help further my plan for my own revenge. That is what I tell myself anyway, and it does not stem from worry about Joha.

Not at all.

I am just about to make my way over the wall when the door opens and the very man I am looking for leaves. Dressed in a deep red robe with his hat pulled low, he hurries from the house. Since it is so late, it wouldn’t do him well to be seen leaving suspiciously during the night.

The little rats were right.

The man who tried to kill the king might be dead, but the ones behind it are not, and like most noble families, they stick together.

Smirking, I stalk my prey through the cobblestone streets. He stops every now and again, searching the area to make sure he isn’t being seen, yet he never once spots me.

Is the hair on the back of his neck rising?

Is his skin filled with goosebumps?

Can he taste death in the air?

I hope so.

We eventually stop at a tavern near the water, and I grin when I realise exactly why he’s been acting so shady. I watch him slip inside, and I follow.

I have been here a few times before. It is a good place for information, and a convenient area near the water to dispose of bodies—not to mention those who work here are all ours as well. Some see them as desperate for money, but nothing could be further from the truth. They earn more in one night than their patrons. They are assassins in their own way—of information. They keep this kingdom running, especially for us Daggers.

Music flows through the tavern, men cheer rowdily in their expensive robes, and money is thrown onto wooden tables as women make their way through, serving their beer and dancing. They steal and listen as they go, but it is the rooms upstairs where my man goes.

The bar is in the back, and I nod at Antlia, who is working alongside Willian. The tables down here serve food and alcohol while good music plays. Dancers move lithely through the crowd in gauzy material, their bodies art themselves. Doors separate more on the back wall where you can have private meetings or meals, but I turn away and head to the wooden stairs on the left. Satisfied men and cunning women come down the stairs, and I nod at those I know, and the women part for me, knowing all too well who I am.

When I get upstairs, however, I cannot see my target.

The walls here are made from sheer cloth until farther down the corridor, where sliding wooden doors lead to private rooms where, for enough coin, you pay for the entertainment of a lifetime.

“Mistress.” One of the entertainers nods as she watches me, no doubt waiting for her next patron. Wearing a sheer pink number that wraps around her body, she looks like the beautiful temptress they want. Her makeup is heavy, and unlike the proper ladies of the noble land, she screams of seduction and happiness.

I grin behind my mask. “I am looking for a man who just came in. Red robe, Beaumont.”

“Room four, I am due in there.” I pull a pouch from my waist and throw it at her. She snatches it from the air, pocketing it, and blinks her long lashes at me with a wicked grin. “Enjoy your evening, mistress.” She turns and heads back downstairs to look for her next target.

Heading to room four, I chuckle at the singing coming from one of the others and the moans from the next. Here, you can buy whatever you want if your pockets are deep enough, and it seems that despite Beaumont’s worries, these ones are.

Sliding the door open softly, I step into room four, eyeing the back of the robed man I have been hunting. He is sitting at the wooden table with his back to the door. His hat is off, and his long black hair hangs in a plait down his back. It’s another symbol of his status. To the left is a small stage with some instruments ready for the entertainers, and sofas and a bed are to the right.

“I do not like to be kept waiting,” he barks sharply, all high and mighty as he throws back a shot of his drink and lifts it into the air. “Pour me another quickly.”

I head over and grab the glass before grabbing the bottle, and then I pour him a drink. As he lifts it to his mouth, I round the table and sit in the other chair.

His eyes widen, and he spits his drink across the room as he pales. “Who are you?” He goes to stand, panicking. I don’t blame him.

“Sit,” I demand, and he sinks into his seat, confused but knowing this isn’t good.

“Your brother was a fool,” I tell him casually as I pour myself a drink. Pulling my mask down, I shoot it back and slam the glass onto the table. “Are you a fool?”

He hesitates. “My brother?”

“Hmm, the news probably hasn’t reached you yet. He failed and is dead.” He freezes.

“I do not know what you mean,” he replies carefully. He’s good at hiding his disappointment and grief—if he actually feels any. It’s not enough though.

“Oh, let us not play games, Mr. Beaumont. Your family was selected because of your recent struggles with money after your ship sank. They knew you were desperate and used that against you. You took the payment, and your older brother, a captain of the guard within the palace, tried to assassinate the king last night. He failed. Now, shall I carry on with everything I know? Like the fact that you are here proves your money troubles are over or that your wife has no idea you have three bastard children?” He gasps, his composure broken, and I grin. “Good, you understand me now. I know everything. I see everything. You can’t fool me.”

“What do you want?” he whispers.

At least he is no longer trying to act stupid. That makes it easier.

“I do not care about you or your other secrets. You are inconsequential and not deep enough to be part of it. They used you knowing it could be traced back, but I want the one behind it. I want the one who approached you. I want the one with the money who gave the order,” I admit as I pour him another drink.

He doesn’t touch it. He just watches me. He might be foolish enough to accept the money, but he’s not foolish enough to give them away, knowing it means death.

He just doesn’t know he’s screwed either way.

“I truly do not know who it was. They wore a mask and approached us on the docks a few nights ago. They knew everything, that we were ruined and desperate. They offered us more gold than we could make in ten lifetimes if we did one simple task.”

“Kill the king.” I nod and shoot my drink as I wait.

He swallows and nods. “He spoke with a lilt, but I do not know what kind. He was not from here, that is for sure. He was neither short nor tall. That is all I can tell you.”

“I need more than that,” I warn him. His description is useless. “You fear that man, I can see it, but you should fear me right now, boy. He cannot and will not protect you. You are a dead end to him, but to me, you are the key. You know what I am, yes?” He nods, and I grin. “Then you know what I am willing to do to get the information I need. It is your choice how. You booked this room for an hour. I will have you broken within half that time, or you can tell me what I want to know now and make it easier on yourself.”

He pales even further, slumping into his chair as he realises just how fucked he is. Suddenly, he reaches into his side, and I stiffen, my hand drifting to a blade on my hip, but he pulls out a silken coin pouch and roots around inside it.

He tosses me a coin, and I catch it midair, my gaze on him for a moment before I turn it to the gold coin. I flip it in my fingers, noticing the difference. “I do not know their names, truly, but that coin can only belong to those within the palace who have access to the treasury.”

“Why?” I ask, needing to know his reasoning. I will not be led on a wild-goose chase.

“Why? Because that is the new currency being rolled out this year. The only ones who would have access to it yet are the ones closest to the king and the treasury. There are only certain people who could have it. Find that list and you will find the one who hired me. That is all I know. I was a fool, I know that, but we had no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” I inform him as I stand. I press the coin into the pocket over my chest as I watch him. “You chose wrong.” He stiffens, but then I walk past him, and he slumps, thinking he is safe.

“I am going to use you to send a message,” I murmur in his ear from behind.

“What message? I will convey it eagerly.” He straightens with purpose.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I straighten. “I know you will.” In one quick move, I snap his neck, watching his head hit the table as he crumples. I grab his glass and down his shot before pulling the rest of his coins, leaving them as a tip for the entertainers who will find him.

After all, he knows too much.

He saw me, and he saw them.

I cannot let them know I am coming for them, not yet, but this is a warning to them. Next time, they will second-guess their moves, and it will buy us time to trace this coin and find out who is behind it.

This is a game. They move, we move, and it goes like that until one of us wins . . . and I never lose.

That will not change now, not with my revenge and Joha’s life on the line.