Soren
Twin Rivers is cast in darkness and flickering neon lights as I trudge beside Blake, our heads bent against a spray of slush. The streets are clear of ice but soaking wet, and my boots leave deep imprints in the rotten snow as I cross a street, Blake staying in step with me. My eyes are covered by my usual mask–a simple strip of dark fabric. My ball cap casts the rest of my face in shadow as we cut through an alley between two lively bars. We have to side-step between the crowd to gain access to the next street.
Blake begins to don his gloves, but I stop him, shaking my head. “She needs to see you as you are. That’s part of the plan, remember?”
He grits his teeth and slides the gloves back in his pocket.
“Having second thoughts?”
“No,” he rasps. It’s impossible to tell what he’s really thinking. His face is set in a mask of indifference as the city bleeds around us. Twin Rivers is a hotbed for nightlife. Bars and clubs rage even in the darkest hours of morning. A group of young women croon at us, but Blake keeps his head down, strategically adjusting his hood to cast his face, especially his eyes, in shadow, and we keep walking.
“How much further?” he asks as the city light begins to fade behind us, the streets ahead dark and run down.
“Two blocks.”
His eyes light from within for several seconds before fading. “Evander’s Ghosts are nearby. They’ve cleared a path. We won’t be bothered at the entrance.”
“Andrea’s going to be aware something’s going on,” I tell him, and he tilts his head in consideration.
“We want her desperate, don’t we? Also, I didn’t realize you were on a first name basis.”
“I know her far more intimately than I want to.”
Blake stops walking in the middle of the street and turns to me. I shove my hands in my pockets, gritting my teeth as I face him. “What do you mean by that? Do you have a history with her? A romantic one?”
“Why does it matter when she’ll be taking her last breath within the hour?”
“Because you’re linked to Maeve now.” He steps into me, squaring his shoulders. “I know you don’t fully trust me, but everything I do, and everything I’ve done, has been to protect those I love, which includes her–”
“If you’re asking if I used to date the fucking Viper and may have lingering feelings for that bitch,” I hiss, “the answer is no. It wasn’t like that. Not at all.”
He searches my eyes for understanding, and I let him see it.
Blake steps away, clearing his throat, and begins walking again even though he has no idea where he’s going.
“This way, idiot,” I grumble under my breath, turning to the left to stalk down a poorly lit road with shuddered apartment buildings towering over us on either side.
A shadow moves across the street dressed in a rather fancy puffer jacket from a high-end sporting goods store right across the street from the castle. Patton glances around before hurrying to my side, whispering, “We’re clear. She’s alone.”
“Have you been inside yet? Nice fucking jacket, by the way.”
“No I haven’t been inside,” he growls, but then his cheeks glow pink as our trio passes under a flickering streetlight. “You like it? Jane said her favorite color is navy blue. I got the matching hat.”
Even soulless, emotionally inept Blake snorts a laugh.
But that laugh cuts short as we near the building towering over the street. No one greets us at the door. Music still wafts from below, but it’s a quiet night in the exclusive underground dance club. Blake glances at the dancers sitting on the stage, barely dressed and kicking their legs as they scroll their phones instead of twirling on the poles. The bar is completely empty, no one manning it, and no guards stand outside the double doors to hell itself.
“I don’t like this,” I say, unable to stop walking to turn to the men beside me. “What exactly were the Ghosts told to do?”
“Keep watch on this building and side street. I know a small diversion was created to make it possible for you to bring us in, but that was supposed to be it,” Blake says, each word sharp and dripping with apprehension. “Something’s up.”
“I know.” I think of Maeve. I think of the moment she brings our daughter into the world. I promised her I’d be back for that, and I will be. Even if I have to crawl my way back to Moonrise, I’ll be there.
I open the double doors and feel a momentary burst of relief to see two guards standing outside Andrea’s office. One of them looks at me but then looks down at his hands, and the nerves return. Odd. I don’t recognize these men, and I know everyone.
Into Patton’s head, I say through the mind-link now active between us, “What about our guys? Where are they?”
“Beckett, Louis, Sean, and Maverick are lying in wait just outside the city if we need help getting out,” he says as we move closer to Andrea’s office door. “The rest are three blocks away, lying low at a bar under the guise of attending a concert. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“Good,” I say out loud then turn for the door and shove it open without knocking.
Andrea is sitting at her desk. She smiles at me as I walk in, but I see through it. Her eyes dart to Blake and her brows raise. “Well, well, well. I did not expect this tonight.”
I motion for Patton to remain by the door, which I left open. But Blake steps in front of me and sits in one of the twin armchairs in front of her desk, looking directly into her eyes.
He drinks her in, taking in every detail like he’s memorizing her. His gaze narrows as she tucks her chin-length black hair behind her pointed ears and smiles at him kindly, looking as stunning and evil as ever.
“Prince Blake. What an honor.”
“I understand you have some type of agreement with Soren regarding my cousin, the Queen of Eastonia?”
I cross my arms over my chest as unease ghosts through me. I have to remind myself this is the plan. Blake knows what he’s doing. Nothing he’s about to say, or offer, is how he really feels, but he’s really fucking good at this. Too good.
“The child was born last night,” he lies. “A full-blooded Firestone female, the heir to Eastonia after Maeve.”
Andrea tilts her head, shrugging. “And is the child dead, like I asked my dear friend Soren to arrange?” Her eyes flicker to mine with a flash of annoyance.
“No. I have something better in mind,” Blake says. “I can get you Maeve. I can hand her over on a silver platter, and you can feast on her bones.”
“I don’t need the queen. No one can get close to her. Even my best. My sweet Soren has failed, hasn’t he? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? He called in the cavalry?” Her smile is sickly sweet.
But Blake is playing ball. “The queen asked me to be her second a few months ago. I haven’t given her an answer yet, but I’ve been taking a share of some of her duties over the past months for obvious reasons. I am her closest advisor. She does anything I say without question.”
It takes all of my strength not to laugh.
Andrea tilts her head and looks interested, for once. “But if you’re here, in my den, you must want something she can’t offer you.”
“Precisely.”
“And what is it that you want, Seer?”
“I want it all,” he says smoothly, his mouth stretching into a sick smile I’d believe wholeheartedly to be true had we not just discussed what he was going to say to her. His eyes glow softly in the dim light, not enough for her notice yet, but while he’s keeping her talking, he’s slowly sending his powers into her mind, clawing past what I assume are mental shields.
That’s the whole plan. Break into the bitch’s head, find out all of the secrets she keeps, get a location on Hannibal, and then boil her gray matter, or whatever the fuck Blake is capable of doing.
“What are you suggesting, princeling?”
“I want in on whatever your boss is planning. I want Eastonia. I want Crescent Falls. I want the kingdoms beyond. I can make a deal with him.”
“And what of your ever powerful family?” She laughs, but she’s enraptured, slowly leaning over the desk as his eyes glow brighter with each passing second.
I let my hands fall to my side, brushing over the twin blades tucked against my thighs, out of sight.
“My family is a waste of power. I’ll take what I can from them, drain them, and dispose of them. They trust me without fault. I’ve been using that to my advantage for a while, but Maeve is the one standing in my way, and right now, she’s vulnerable.” He rises, bracing his hands on the desk, and leans toward her. His eyes glow like fire-lit amethyst as he concludes, “It was a long, hard labor. They barely survived. She’s weak now. I can make this happen. I can pluck them from this world and give Hannibal the green light to invade.”
I realize the mistake the moment Andrea’s expression flattens. Blake’s eyes grow bright, but she… holds strong. I can see the tension in his knuckles. He’s gripping the desk like his life depends on it and starting to tremble as he sends his powers into her, but she… she’s not like us.
He told me that once.
I realize with a start that she knew we were going to be here somehow. She was waiting for this. No, she never sent me to Moonrise to kill my child. Blake mentioned Hannibal has similar powers to him somehow. Hannibal knew. Hannibal was, and will always be, two steps ahead.
“Fuck,” I say under my breath.
She chuckles, which turns to a shrill laugh that pings from wall to wall. Blake stands, panting, and takes a stumbling step backward, and I… I act.
Two steps is all it takes to leap onto her desk, brandish my blades, and pin her to the wall with my daggers crossed against her throat.
She giggles, running her tongue along her lower lip like a snake. “I missed playing with you, Soren.”
“Shut the fuck up. This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to die here. I’m going to chop off your head and drag your lifeless body into the street. My men are actively canvassing Twin Rivers for any of your people and disposing of them in a public way. You’re done, Andrea. This is over.”
“Oh, Soren, you are so late to the party.”
A ripple of unease shoots up my spine. Blake teeters, catching himself on the edge of the desk, and lunges for us. I slice into Andrea’s neck and beads of blood appear along the blade's surface, but it’s not enough to even hurt the bitch, not yet. Blake slams his palm against her forehead and screams as his powers surge, her eyes turning a bright violet as her scream fills the room.
But then Patton yelps, gasping, and hits the ground behind us in silence. The sound is the catalyst for the end of life as I know it, but I realize that a moment too late.
A blast of energy explodes through the room. Andrea’s shrill scream of pain when one of my blades cuts deep into her throat and the reek of her blood follows, coating the room with the scent of iron, but my vision cuts out. I feel my body hit the wall next to her, then turn as slow, steady footsteps echo through the sizzling chaos.
“Well done, Andrea,” Hannibal says, his voice as smooth and deep as an aged scotch.
“Kill them,” The Viper gasps around a mouthful of blood.
I open my eyes, but I can see anything. Something’s wrapped around my head, my eyes, blocking everything but light. I can’t move. I’m… being squeezed…
“Not yet. I want to play with this one first.”
Blake grunts in pain, and then everything goes black as the world around us falls away.
This was not part of the plan.
But I’m an enterprising man with a mate resurrected from the seventh level of hell, and she’ll come for me, one way or the other.
She’ll finally get what she wants.
I submit, smiling, to the darkness that swallows us whole.