Page 69 of Villains Never Die

He was utterly still at my back. “Shit. That’s…a lot.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I’m just processing.” He turned me gently toward him and brushed his hand along the side of my face. “What do you mean you’re close?”

“There’s a ritual to summon and trap her in a corporeal form. It’s in a grimoire. I recently imported a collection of books and artifacts about Death on loan from Prague. It’s—” I sucked in a breath, picturing the vast amount of information at my fingertips. “It’s more than I ever dreamed I’d find on her. The book is in there somewhere. It has to be.”

Rook’s attention never wavered. If anything, it sharpened.

“What does the ritual involve?”

“That’s more complicated. She can only be killed with a blade coated in my blood and tears of grief, and it requires a sacrificeof love, whatever that means. I can figure it out after I get the book.”

“You have balls,” he said. “Going after Death is kind of crazy. You know that, right?”

I nodded, thinking of all the years I’d sacrificed to get here. “I’ve spilled blood for this. I’ve died for this more than once. It’s all I have.”

He curled his fingers around the back of my neck and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Then I’ll help you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Emmett stood on a wide stage next to the existing members of the Council, smiling as though he hadn’t just survived attempted murder. Wesley Lake, well-groomed and confident, stood on the other side.

Between them, the other members of the Council lined up shoulder to shoulder.

I could tell which one was the shifter. They were all built strong with an edge of vigilance, like the wolf was always just under their skin.

The fae representative had fingers just a little too long and knobby to pass for anything else, tipped in red fingernails that may or may not have been stained with blood.

The vampire and human representatives could have gone either way if I hadn’t been able to sense the lack of magic under the human’s skin and the woman next to him wasn’t bleached white from forsaking the day. The gathered crowd of diplomats and important personalities hushed when the human stepped forward toward a podium at one edge of the stage. Someone had added its twin on the opposite side.

“I am Representative Andrew Clark,” he said. “We’ve called this meeting to discuss the upcoming election for a magicians’ representative and the recent attempt on one of our candidate’s lives. Presently, we do not have suspects, but there is a pattern. The killer is targeting magicians working for the Council.”

Rook snorted beside me. “They know that’s not entirely true.”

“They look bad if they don’t have it under control,” I whispered.

“As far as we can tell,” Andrew continued, “the killer’s motive is to stop the election. Despite the attack on Emmett Graves, the election will proceed as planned.”

The crowd murmured and a tremor of uncertainty vibrated through it.

“Please know that all the representatives are working hard to ensure the safety and security of everyone involved in the election. Tonight, Emmett Graves and Wesley Lake would like to speak on this issue.” He took a few steps back and gestured for Graves and Lake to step forward. Each settled at one of the podiums.

Emmett leaned forward, flattening his palms on the podium and flashing an appealing smile that made pink spread across the cheeks of the woman to my right.

“Hello everyone, and thank you for attending this meeting. I apologize for the delay due to the circumstances of my attack. In these uncertain times, it is more important than ever that all of us—not just magicians—band together and cooperate on finding this person spreading fear through our world.”

“So you want everyone else to stick their necks out for something that only affects us,” Wesley interrupted.

Emmett turned slowly toward him, that smile flickering. “I am saying that a threat to one is a threat to all, and we have formed this alliance between species for exactly this reason.”

Wesley took one step away from the podium toward the center of the stage and addressed the rest of the politicians. “Do you agree with this? Do you want to risk your people—yourlives—to catch a killer who isn’t targeting you?”

He sent them a withering look. The fae’s hands curled just slightly, its gruesome fingernails flashing. The fae had never wanted the alliance anyway; their real politics took place in their courts. A few of the others moved in place, discomfort bubbling to the surface.

“We don’t know they are only targeting magicians, just that they have only killed magicians so far.”

“Their hands were cut off. Their tongues were cut out,” Wesley scoffed. “The killer wanted to send a message—he wants no one casting. Only magicians cast that way.”