Page 102 of Down Comes the Night

All she’d ever wanted was someone to help hold her together. Maybe Hal did, too. Wren took a tentative step forward and wrapped her arms around his middle. He smelled like comfort: like black tea and sugar on a long winter night.

“I know it’s not enough,” she said against his collarbone, “but I’m so sorry, and I’m here for you.”

Hal stiffened in her embrace. Then, slowly, he relaxed and rested his chin on top of her head. Although he said nothing, she heard his response in the stuttering beat of his heart.Me-too, me-too, me-too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

As they emerged from the hidden staircase, Wren strained to listen over the mournful cry of the wind. The faint sounds of dwindling conversation and music reached her. The snow poured in from the broken staircase and swirled across the floor like freshly swept dust. In the cold and quiet, the room felt peaceful. Undisturbed, as if they’d stepped back into a world that never knew they’d left. Twelve distant gongs of a clock announced the arrival of midnight.

Somehow, they’d done it. Now all she had to do was find the queen.

“Have you discovered the dark and terrible secrets of Colwick Hall?” a voice said.

Wren turned sharply to see a shape in the darkest reaches of the room. Candlelight glimmered on a fine cloak encrusted with jet like mussels on a dock.

Lowry.

He strode forward, carrying a candelabra. Painted all in starkorange and black, he looked like a thing half-made in fire. Chills erupted over the back of her neck. She’d known the dosage was smaller than usual, especially with alcohol in play, but he still shouldn’t be conscious.

He shouldn’t behere.

“How?” was all she managed to spit out.

“Chloral hydrate,” he drawled. As he took another step toward her, the firelight snagged on a flash of metal. In his other hand, he held a knife loosely at his side. “Potent stuff—or at least it used to be. I began taking it years ago for insomnia.”

Hal nudged Wren behind him. “Find the queen. I’ll handle him.”

Lowry clucked his tongue, setting his candelabra on the floor. “You’d not be so hasty if you realized how thoroughly ensnared you are. How easily I could sink you both.”

Every logical part of her begged her to listen to Hal, to run. But the hateful sight of Lowry, so smug… Just once, she wanted to see genuine fear light his eyes. Just once, she wanted him to know he’d lost. She wanted to punish him for what he’d done to Byers.

Wren shoved past Hal. “No. You’re the one who’s sunk. You murdered my friend, and now you’re going to pay.”

“Am I?” Lowry raised his hands and drew the knife across the heel of his palm in one fluid motion. Wren sucked in a sympathetic breath through her teeth, but Lowry’s face remained entirely unchanged. Blood pattered on the stone floor, splashed his boots.

“Imagine, if you will, the Queen’s Guard stumbling onto this tableau. Poor, bumbling me cornered by the girl who betrayed her country and Hal Cavendish.” Lowry closed the gap between them and grabbed her elbow with his injured hand. “What kind of conclusion would they jump to if they found you covered in my blood?”

Wren tore herself away from him, recoiling at the smirk spreading across his face. When she looked down, her hands were trembling. Dark, hot red streaked her right arm from elbow to fingertips.

“It’s entirely plausible,” he continued. “You drugged me andattacked me. Once I give myself a wound far worse than this, it’ll seem a wonder that I was able to escape with my life.”

“Isthatyour plan? Still attempting to force my hand? You’ve gotten desperate.”

“Yes, theoretically, I suppose those would be the actions of a desperate man.” Lowry absently twirled the wet blade through his fingers. “But, alas, no. That’s not my plan, as riveting as it would’ve been. The scandal of the century: Alistair Lowry nearly assassinated at his own party by the royal bastard and the Reaper of Vesria.”

“You have to go,” Hal said, more urgently this time. “He’s only trying to distract you.”

“You wound me, Cavendish.” Lowry lifted his hands in supplication. “Well, perhaps I am stalling until my guests clear out. It’s so much easier to conduct business when there aren’t ears everywhere. But I come to you in earnest with a gesture of goodwill, my final offer. Although you’ve attempted to thwart me at every turn, I am nothing if not generous.”

Wren could only stare at him, reeling. “You’re in no position to be negotiating anything. As soon as the evidence—”

“Whatever you think you discovered, my dear, it means nothing.”

Wren searched his eyes for the lie. “You’re… you’re bluffing.”

“Oh, to believe that justice has any place in this world.” Lowry sighed wistfully. “Your naïveté almost touches me. It’ll be a shame to see your Paper Queen crush it once and for all.”

Wren froze. What did he mean by that?