Page 62 of Vicious Kings
"Did I have fun?" she asks, her voice small and confused.
"Yeah," I lie. "You had a great time."
But all I can think about is those crimson eyes and that knowing smile.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Nineteen
CAELYX
The shimmer collapses behind me, the pocket dimension folding in on itself like a house of cards. I stand in the abandoned warehouse, watching the last threads of magic dissipate into nothing, and allow myself a smile.
She was going to do it. The psychopathic little hunter was actually going to bring the whole fucking thing down on our heads.
Magnificent.
I move through the shadows between buildings, my wings manifesting just enough to carry me to the rooftops where I can track her progress without being seen. Not that she'd notice me anyway. She's too busy half-dragging her champagne-addled roommate through campus, muttering what I'm sure are someverycreative curses under her breath.
The compulsion I used on her friend will wear off in an hour or so. She'll wake up tomorrow with vague memories of a lovely evening and absolutely no recollection of what her roommate was planning.
A kindness, really.
Some things are better left forgotten, and the knowledge that you almost died in a dimensional collapse ranks pretty high on that list.
Billie stumbles slightly, her heels catching on uneven stone, and my body tenses with the urge to swoop down and steady her. Ridiculous. She's a trained killer who could probably gut me in my sleep given half a chance. She doesn't need saving.
But I find myself following anyway, tracking her path through the gardens and back toward the dormitories. Just to make sure she gets there safely, I tell myself. Just to confirm she's actually going back to her cage instead of doubling back to cause more chaos.
The lie tastes sweet on my tongue.
Because unlike Corvinus, Icanlie. Even if I do it most often to myself.
The truth is darker, more complicated. I want to know what she'll do next. Want to see how she'll pivot now that her first attempt at mass murder has been thwarted. Will she try again? Find a new strategy? Give up entirely and accept her fate as my brother's pet?
The thought of Corvinus's hands on her makes something ugly twist in my chest. I push it down, refusing to examine why the image bothers me so much.
She reaches the dormitory entrance, pausing to shift Olivia's weight to her other shoulder. Even exhausted and frustrated, she moves with that deadly efficiency that speaks to years of training. Every gesture is purposeful, every step careful.
I've seen my brother's soldiers, the ones who trained from birth to kill for the Seelie Court. They move like her. Hunt like her. Corvinus thinks throwing an omega collar on a hunter neutralizes the threat, but he's wrong.
So fucking wrong.
The little cobra is still venomous.
She's just learned to hide her fangs.
She disappears through the entrance, and I give it five more minutes before dropping from my perch. The campus is quieter now, most students either at parties or holed up in their rooms pretending to study.
Perfect. I have research to do, and I'd rather not explain to anyone why the prince who's supposed to be at sparring practice is instead breaking into restricted archives.
The library towers over the eastern edge of campus, protected by gargoyles that actually fucking move. I land on one of the upper balconies, my wings folding back into nothing as I shift forms. The window is locked, naturally, but locks have never stopped me.
A touch of my magic and the enchantments unravel like cheap threads. I slip inside, landing silently on the marble. The restricted section is three floors down, hidden behind wards that would make most people turn back.
Most people aren't half Unseelie with a talent for breaking things that shouldn't be broken.
I take the stairs instead of teleporting. The restricted archives are tucked behind a door that doesn't officially exist. You have to know where to look, have to understand how the building's spatial properties bend and fold.
