Page 92 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

The idea of feeling Six’s death on the other end of the bond and not knowing how or why... it's unthinkable. Even now, the thought of him in pain is agony, wringing out my soul. And that's just thethought. He'll have to actually live through it, just like Jagger and Zev.

Unless...unless their powers now at my disposal somehow get us out of there alive.

It's a fun fantasy to have, but I have always lived in the real world.

One that has rarely been kind, so I don't allow myself to dwell on it too long.

Chapter 23

Livana

“Go over it one more time,” Zev says from behind me as we clear the border of Lingate, holding my chained wrists behind my back.

“I'm not going over the plan again,” I say under my breath, doing my best to look like a drifter captive. “We've gone over it a dozen times.”

“I want to hear it one more time,” he says into my ear, a note of desperation there that cracks me wide open.

“You will usher me into the palace as your bounty, demand to speak with the Collector regarding your conditional trade. Jagger will remove my silver chains, and I'll focus as much power as I can on the main threats in the room.”

Because there is no guarantee the prince and the Treasure will be with the Collector when we meet. And if we’re really unlucky, the Collector will deny Zev and Jagger an audience, and I’ll be tossed into a cell instead. In that case, I'll have to wait until the Collector comes to see his new pet, andthenmake my move. The only advantage we have right now is the fact that no one knows what I really am. That being a succubus is rare enough that he'll want to collect me either way.

“Good,” Zev says. “And if option two has to happen?”

I do my best not to roll my eyes, but he really is being a stickler. We've gone over this so many times. “I’ll become the perfect little pet.”

A low growl rumbles in Zev’s chest, and Jagger chuckles softly at my side, dagger at the ready in case his bounty gets out of hand.

Zev leans down closer to my ear. “You are no one’s pet.”

The intensity in his voice sends warm shivers down my spine, and it does little to quell the adrenaline racing through my blood.

We weave through the main streets of Lingate, and I do my best not to be awestruck by the amount of wealth that lines their streets. There are jewel-encrusted buildings, and vendors on every corner selling luxuries like stuffed pastries and sparkling white wine.

I’d heard Destowne was wealthy, but this?

This makes me angry. Especially when there are people in nearby villages who arestarving. One slab of jewel encrusted stone from this street would feed an entire town for a month, and yet there are entire structures dedicated to showing off art or storing more jewels for wealthy people to buy and wear around their necks and on their hands.

And oh, how these wealthy people, mostly mortals or quarter-bloods who hang on every word the Collector says, look at me. Even the way they look at the drifters has an air of disgust to it. As if we three are beneath them.

I wonder how they'll take it when they find out I've severed their precious Collector’s head from his shoulders? I wonder if they'll use their paper money and silk clothes to lap up all their tears?

I lose just a bit of my confident swagger as we stop in front of the gilded gates before the Collector Keep’s walls. The core at thepalace gates recognize Zev and Jagger, waving us in. The gates slowly open, and Zev shoves me a little hard for show, pushing me farther inside so the gates can close again.

My normal snark doesn't reach my tongue, not when I'm completely taken aback by the beauty of the palace. I can't deny it—the stonework, the architecture—it's a magnificent and massive structure that screams wealth and power and beauty.

Lush gardens and fountains surround the grounds that go on forever, and there are many collector core marching around the perimeters as if that is their sole purpose in life. There are a few nobles scattered around the gardens, and even more as we make our way up the stairs and toward the entrance doors.

People in their finest clothes linger in a grand ballroom just off the entryway, and I recognize the space that Jagger described as a place where the Collector’s court gathers and gossips and gorges themselves on delicacies while waiting for a glimpse of him or the prince or the Treasure.

It's pathetic, the sight of them all chatting and lounging about, their life of luxury provided by fear mongering and a cruel hand. And they worship him for it?

They guide us past that ballroom, and down a few hallways, each one more ornately decorated than the first, until we make it to a room that is guarded by two collector core.

“We can take over the process of collection,” the first one says, eyeing me. “You two can collect your gold at the treasury?—"

“You will not be taking over collection,” Jagger cuts the core off, his voice lilting just enough in a singsong tone that I can tell he’s using his powers. “We will deliver this one to the Collector himself. To speak on a trade that was previously discussed.”

The guards seem to consider this for a moment before shrugging and opening the door, ushering us inside another grand room, but much smaller than the ballroom.

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