Page 110 of Alchemy of Souls

“We remove my uncle from power,” he says.

“Kill him?” I ask, wanting the truth.

“It’s not my aim, but I’m also not ruling it out,” he says. “I’m not him. I don’t kill people to get what I want. But every week he rules, more Lawless die. More Laborers die. And no one is doing a damn thing. Very few even know the truth.”

I push back the strands of hair that have escaped my braid. “What plan do you have with Sage?”

“We want to expose him. But it’ll involve putting him in aposition where he doesn’t have a choice. We’ve never been able to craft a spell strong enough to compromise him. The magic in that Archive Room could change that.”

“Can we delay, buy ourselves a day to think about it and work out the details?” I ask.

“We’ll never know what’s in that room until we see it for ourselves. But if you and I can call the Key, I can handle the rest. You can stay here—”

“I can’t stay here. What about my family?” I ask.

“Sage can get in touch with the Lawless in America. She’ll get your family out before my uncle can seize them.”

“My family would never trust them. Someone would get hurt or—” I don’t finish that sentence because Grayson’s right, there’s no time to wait. “I’m in. Whatever your plan is, I’m doing it with you. Tonight.”

He exhales. “Your magic is drained.”

I stare at him. “I understand the risks of going up against your uncle, Grayson. But he’skillingpeople. He killed my grandad.”

“I know you do, I’m just saying—”

“Whatareyou saying?” I reply, my tone a warning. “Because I’m a damn good fighter.”

“Eloise, you don’t get it,” he says. “I don’t think you’re incapable. You’re smarter than I am. Craftier. And a harder worker. The problem is—” He meets my eyes. “The problem is I don’t want to lose you. Because somewhere along the way I realized that the one thing I can’t live with has irrevocably changed—it’s no longer my uncle taking the Key, it’s him taking you.”

“You don’t mean that,” I say, and I don’t even know why. Maybe because he’s always so secretive, so closed off. Also, I’m flustered, because no one has ever said anything that romantic to me.

“And if I do mean it?”

“You can’t. You accused me of drooling over you a week ago,” I say like it’s hard evidence.

He laughs and it’s a rich sound, low and rumbly. “And that proves what exactly? That I’m an ass?”

“That you push people away,” I say.

“You’re right,” he replies. “But I’m not pushing you away.”

“Why?”

“It’s a damn good question,” he says like he barely understands it himself. “Maybe it’s those eyes of yours, Claws, or the way you incessantly challenge me. Maybe it’s that you’re good in a way I can never be. Or that you keep believing in me even when I don’t believe in myself. No one has showed up for me like that since I was a kid. God, when I found out you fell through that window today, I nearly lost my mind. I didn’t even think of the consequences of leaving the wards. Didn’t care.”

I stand there staring at him, my heart beating too quickly and my chest rising with the motion. He’s mere inches from my face, his rugged magic smell drifting toward me and his impossibly blue eyes trained on my face.

“So, what you’re saying is that you were wrong? That it’s you who’s drooling over me?” I say, and the laugh that erupts from him steals my breath because it’s real.

He leans forward, brushing my hair back with a light touch that tingles down my neck, and he whispers in my ear, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Claws. I didn’t say I was wrong about the drooling comment, only that I was being an ass.”

I push him lightly and he raises his hands in surrender, the grin on his face so confident that I nearly groan. I maintain my stance that it’s deeply unfair that he looks like that.

“You might not want to lose me,” I say. “But you do have to trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“No, I don’t mean just to tell the truth, but to handle myself,” I say.