Page 87 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

I don’t like the way we left things.

I snatch my arm back.

“You’re Matched?” Zev asks.

“I’ve never met him,” I answer. “But yes, he’s my Matched.”

“Why haven’t you completed the bond yet?” Jagger asks. “Matched are rare, fated?—”

“I know that,” I cut him off. “I can’t.”

“Why—”

“Because she’s not planning on living long enough to complete that bond,” Zev answers for me.

I swallow hard, using the moment of silence to write back to Six.

I don’t either. I’m sorry, Six. I didn’t mean to cause you so much worry. I promise, I’ll tell you everything soon.

Jagger blows out a breath, and the tension in the room mounts. I can’t argue with Zev or deny his claims. Anyone who thinks they can kill the Collector and survive is dreaming. At least I’m a realist.

“It’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type,” Jagger says, trailing his finger over the fading gold script along my arm. The touch sends waves of heat crashing through me. “Is he?”

I shake my head. “I’ve told him about you,” I say, then my eyes flutter to Zev. “And you.”

Zev’s tight lips twitch into an almost smile. “Well, little tress, at least we don’t have to fear your Matched hunting us down in our sleep.”

“A small relief,” I say. “I’m sure.”

Chapter 22

Livana

“We'll have to bring you in bound in chains of silver,” Jagger explains from where we made camp along the border of Lingate, just far enough away not to draw attention.

We left Rain in the safe walls of The Drifter Academy, not wanting him to get caught up in my plans. It took us five days to get here, and now that we’re so close, I can barely sit still from the anticipation wreaking havoc on my body.

“Can't you use some drifter magic on iron to make it look like it's silver?” I ask.

“Drifter magic isn't illusion magic,” Zev chimes in from where he's been staring into the fire for the last hour. His forearms are propped on his knees, and those golden eyes look more distraught the normal.

My shoulders drop, but I nod. “It will certainly make it harder for me to use my powers against the Collector,” I say. “But not impossible. Fighting off the Prince and his Treasure, if she's there, will be impossible. I'll only be able to manage one good blast?—”

“We can take the chains off of you,” Jagger interrupts me. “Once we've made it close enough to the Collector for you to make your move.”

“No,” I say shaking my head. “You absolutely cannot do that. No one can know you helped me. The last thing I want is for all of this to come down on you after they've dealt with me.”

“Such a casual way you speak about your death,” Zev says, drawing his gaze to mine across the crackling flames.

I smooth the mask of indifference and confidence over my face and give him a little shrug. “Oh come on, Zev, don't grow soft on me now. This is what you've wanted since the second you arranged for that private dance. You collect the bounty, and I die in that palace.”

He growls, low and rough, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “That's not what I want.”

Anticipation curls through me, a craving for the taste of him and Jagger both echoing beneath my skin.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Jagger looks at Zev, sympathy in his teal eyes.

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