Chapter 29

"Honestly, it's just a blade. Thea can fix that with her hands bound."

I glared. "You nicked the tip. Anyone worth their death knows, once it's compromised, a dagger is never going to be the same."

He held Chaos up to the faint light, squinting. "This tiny scratch? It's fine."

Snatching the blade back, I slid her into my holster and smirked when his jaw dropped.

"Don't act like that. We have nothing else to do."

"Using my knife as a pencil is no longer an option. Find a rock or something."

He flashed an arrogant smile before crossing his arms over his broad chest to stare down at me. "You're just mad because you haven't won a single game yet."

I shoved him playfully. "I didn't have the same upbringing as you did. Or did you forget you had to teach me how to play?"

"How could I forget? You keep reminding me every time you lose."

I'd woken with a start, steeped in a pile of dread until I oriented myself, remembering I was trapped in an underground tunnel with a man who had tried to kill me weeks ago. His arm was draped heavily over my body, and his warm breath caressed my ear. He'd snored softly, and I lay there, afraid to wake him. Afraid that when he woke, it would be those dark eyes that stared at me, hated me, and not the amber ones that made him only a man.

Maybe the eyes never truly changed, but the hatred and the glares did, and that was the balancing act I'd learned to expect from him. He woke shortly after I did, but I only knew because of the change in breathing. Because we'd both lay there longer than we should have. Afraid to jostle the other and admit that there were seeds of companionship, if nothing else. And gods. I'd been so alone I couldn't peel myself away from that man's embrace if I'd wanted to.

"We should go over the plan again," he said, squatting on the floor to look for a rock.

"As long as you don't turn my dagger into a blunt object by playing children's games on the walls, I think we'll be fine."

"Got one," he shouted, swiping a pebble from the ground. "Did you have any better ideas to pass the time?"

"Almost anything else."

He held out a hand. "Calm down, Dey. I meant ideas that don't involve being naked."

"So did I," I scowled.

"I saw that look in your eyes this morning," he teased, drawing a giant square on an unmarked section of the stone wall. He stepped back to admire his handiwork before examining the rock again. "It's not perfect, but it'll do."

"Let's take a break."

"Afraid to lose again?"

I pressed my hand to my chest dramatically. "Oh, yes. I'm so worried. Failing at this game is ten times worse than oh, I don't know, Drexel opening one of these doors and finding us down here."

"I've told you he won't," he said, face serious. All hints of play gone. "It'll be one of three people: Hollis—which would be ideal—Ebert Roper, who might not matter if I bribe him well enough, or Cassius. Cassius will be a problem. He doesn't care about anything but the boss's favor. He'd run over his own mother with a team of horses if it won him a single nod. He's not bound to Drexel. His mind is twisted, Deyanira. If he gets a hold of you, he'll… well, he's just not going to."

"If he gets ahold of me, he's standing far too close. You can worry about Paesha and Thea, Hollis and your mother, Quill and even Boo, but you don't have to worry about me. There's not a weak bone in my body."

He moved in, resting his hand on my shoulder. "You're still vulnerable. You married a stranger after thirty minutes of persuasion."

My mouth fell open, but I couldn't argue that.

"I don't say that to be mean, you know? I say it because it's true, and it's a weakness. And he'll use any weakness to get to you, just like the boss will. And Cassius is only the stepping stone. Drexel is the real problem. You have to stay away from him. He can't know where you're weak. He can't speak to you. Ever."

"I've been avoiding him my whole life. I know that."

He brought heavy hands to my shoulders before lifting my chin to gaze into my eyes. "Promise me you'll stay away from him. If he binds you, he'll make you kill anyone that stands in his way. Anyone at any time. He'll take advantage until you have no soul left, Dey."

"I promise. I was weak one time, and I learned my lesson the hard way."

Smoothing his palms down my arms, he grabbed my hands and held them between us. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you can trust me. And you can trust Paesha."

"You do understand what you're saying, though, right? Since the night we were bound, the Maestro has been punishing you. But he forced you to marry me. If he wants me, you have to deliver. And no one understands the magical compulsion more than I do. That means I can't trust you. I also…" I paused, wondering how far I could take this. But we were at a place and time we may never get back. Where neither of us could run, and we weren't trying to hurt each other.

"Was that a complete thought?"

His smile, so rare behind his dark features, made me weak. I didn't want to break the fragile strand of kindness between us. But I also didn't want the secrets. And he'd been with Ro, whether he wanted to talk about it or not.

"I saw you kill a man in Perth, Orin. I know you're a Death Lord."

He laughed. A genuine, full-belly laugh that had to have been heard on the streets above us. I pulled away, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I don't know what you saw, but I think we both know you're the only person here beholden to Death." He flashed his bare hands in the air. "No names here."

I studied him for a second, searching for signs of a lie. "I know what I saw."

"You're wrong, Nightmare. I'm not a Death Lord. I've never been given a name by him."

"So, you're going to stand here one moment and tell me I can trust you when you know I can't because you are not your own person, but then still lie to me?"

He pulled me toward him. I wanted to fight, to push away and demand answers. But the way his broken expression held me, I just couldn't. "I need you to understand that I cannot speak to you about this."

I searched his pleading eyes for the truth. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

Whatever the truth was, the Maestro had forbidden him from speaking of it. And at the very least, I understood magic. He was bound. And that was that.

"Okay," I said, softening. "I won't push."

A creek at the opposite end of the tunnel leading to the warehouse snapped us both apart, shattering the moment as we launched into action.

"Stick to the plan," Orin hissed. "Don't move unless I tell you to."

"I'm not an idiot. Go."

He ran to meet whoever opened the door. And though I was strictly warned I couldn't kill anyone without giving myself away, as if that was my only skill, I still loosened the strap on Chaos, deciding to take my chances. If the guard he was worried about happened to come down, I'd strike first and ask questions later. Murder was not a skill. But dancing around it was.

The grinding of stone on stone filled the tunnel. I was poised, ready to attack, should Orin give any signs of distress, but rather than a fight, a clear, sharp whistle echoed through the space. My shoulders dropped. No danger.

Walking forward, I kept a hand on my blade, unwilling to trust what I didn't see with my own eyes, but it was only Paesha standing at the top of the steps, leaning on the frame in full performance attire, including a white feathered headdress. Likely an excuse to be in the warehouse if she needed it. With a corset and glimmering earrings, the glamor against the softness of her curvy body was stunning. She'd left the snaps at her thighs hanging loose but still worked in the dark stockings and high heels. No wonder the Maestro gave her the stage to command. She deserved it.

"You two playing nice, or do you need a few more hours down here?"

Orin shoved past her. "Took you long enough."

"It's only been a day. Calm down. I knew where you were the whole time." She followed behind him, then turned over her shoulder. "Coming?"

I hustled, though her watchful eyes didn't miss the way I held onto Chaos's hilt. We stepped into the soggy night air, jogging over the streets to leap into the waiting carriage. Hollis snapped the reins up front, and we tore off down the street.

Of all the scenarios Orin had given, he never once mentioned Paesha. And truly, I thought it was because she would never come for me. Maybe for him, but then, if he'd fallen to my blade, she would have been the one to find his body, and maybe that was a trauma she wasn't ready to face.

But as she and Orin bickered with each other in the carriage I'd once been kidnapped in, I couldn't help but look at the floor and think of how far we'd come in just a few short weeks.

"There's something you need to see," Paesha said, nudging Orin with her knee. Her eyes flashed to me. "You too, Maiden."

I held my breath as she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a piece of parchment she'd folded and hidden away.

"Why now?" I asked, snatching the wanted poster from her hands. "Surely he didn't care for those soldiers."

"He cares that you didn't marry him," she said, voice low. "He didn't give a shit about those guards, but he does want you captured."

I rolled my eyes. "No one is going to be foolish enough to?—"

"It's a lot of money, Nightmare," Orin cut in, taking the poster. "Money makes desperate people dangerous."

"It also makes them foolish," I said, slumping back in the bench seat to stare out the window as the final traces of the city faded away.

"Even still, it's best if you stay?—"

"I will not be held prisoner. I don't give a damn what he does."

"Why doesit feel like it's taking them so much longer tonight?" I asked Hollis, who sat dutifully on the front step, watching the tree line with Elowen.

Hollis pulled at the red thread he was using to sew a button onto the Maestro's jacket. "Because it is. And you're making it worse, Little Dove. Come hold this."

"Careful, Dey. Someone will think you care," Elowen said with a forced smile.

I sighed and pushed away from the door, moving to the stoop to hold the string while Hollis snipped it. Without needing direction, I wrapped it around a spool and hooked it into the notch, just as he'd shown me weeks ago, after Orin and I were trapped in the tunnel for a night.

"There!" Elowen shouted, standing to squint through the darkness.

"It's bad," Althea said when they got close enough, her red hair a beacon as they ran for us. "So bad, Paesha sent Quill home with Jarek."

"She can't stay with strangers," I protested. "If the king comes for her…"

Thea stepped into my view, grabbing my hands with her soot-tipped fingers. "The Maestro decided that Orin will be the closing act for the rest of the season. Every night of the performance, he's to fight until only one man is standing."

I shook my head. "He's a decent fighter."

"Tonight was Cassius, and he was allowed weapons, but Orin wasn't."

I blew out a steady breath and started for the cart he'd been brought home on. "Why is he doing this?" I demanded of Paesha. "If this is about me, why doesn't the Maestro just make him turn me over?"

The two women shared a glance as Elowen and Hollis joined us.

"What?" I asked, unwilling to look down at the broken and battered body I was sure to find.

"Orin made a deal with the Maestro the night after he married you."

My ears began to ring. I didn't want to be a bargaining chip. "What kind of deal?"

Althea took my hand. "He bound himself to the Maestro in exchange for his mother's life debt."

"I had fifty years left," Elowen whispered.

Paesha cleared her throat. "He was seventeen when he made that deal. He would have been freed at sixty-seven. But he made the Maestro agree that we couldn't be forced to turn you over."

"And?"

"And he gave the rest of his hundred years for your safety."