Page 68 of Freeing Hook

“I hate to inform you, but you’re hours too late,” says Vale. “I sold that particular secret tonight. To Lady Carlisle. Though I imagine you know that.”

“Yes,” I say, trailing my finger along the bedside. “I also know that secrets aren’t exactly limited resources. They don’t burn after you use them like coal or oil.”

“Though they do become less valuable the more you tell,” says Astor, “so don’t be trying to weasel payment out of us.”

“Yes, sparing Vale’s pitiful life should be plenty payment,” I say. It’s rather easy to curl up my nose at the man.

“It seems I’m a dead man either way,” Vale says. “And no offense, little lady, but I fear the Carlisles more than I do you. They don’t take well to people double dipping with the secrets that are supposed to be exclusive to them. Last man who did ended up bird food after being skewered at the top of the lighthouse.”

“Well, if it’s Lady Carlisle you’re worried about,” I say, picking my nails, “then I suggest you’d better run when we’re done with you. I can’t imagine you’ll miss this place much, seeing how you don’t seem to bother to take care of it. As for Lord Carlisle, I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“And why not?”

Vale’s looking a bit too apathetic for my liking, so I bat my eyes coyly. “Why, because I killed him, of course.”

This time, Astor slides his eyes over to me with such annoyance, I almost laugh. I’m not sure what’s come over me. Maybe it’s my body’s strange reaction to the fear that jolted through me when I thought Peter was going to force himself on me, maybe it’s because Carlisle’s blood still coats my tattered gown from where his head rolled onto my chest. Maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it’s just that I’m tired of being timid.

Maybe I’ve snapped.

“And you?” asks the old man to Astor.

I answer before the captain can respond. “He does what I tell him to.”

Astor tenses, but the corner of his lip twitches upward.

This, the old man seems to believe well enough. He’s probably had plenty of secrets coaxed from his lips by shrewd women.

“And you’re sure Lord Carlisle is dead?” he asks. Like he thinks he has some rapport with Lady Carlisle now that they’ve shared a bed.

“Positive,” says Astor.

The man sighs, slinking into his pillow as he closes his eyes. “I can’t tell you where, but I know the name of the man who does.”

I pick at my nails. It’s something I saw the leading lady do at a production my parents took me to when I was young. That was before I fell ill of the plague, of course. Before everything changed and they feared letting me out of the manor.

“Dear,” I say, running my finger along Astor’s shoulder. He tenses underneath my touch but doesn’t pull away. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but it’s as if I’ve stepped into a persona that’s swallowed me whole. “Explain to Mister Vale here why that’s not going to be good enough.”

“Of course, Darling,” Astor says as he allows the tip of his blade to hover at the curve of the man’s eye.

Vale pants, blinking furiously. “Please, it’s good information. You’re looking for the Nomad. He’s got what you’re looking for.”

Astor stills, cocking his brow.

“You’ve heard of him?” I ask.

Astor doesn’t answer. He just stares down at Vale, desperation written all over the man’s face.

“You’re sure?” Astor asks.

Vale looks like he’s about to nod, then thinks better of it as Astor lowers his dagger and Vale’s drooping skin scrapes across the blade.

“Yes. He knows the secrets of the dead, you know.”

“What does that have to do with removing a Mating Bond?” I ask.

Astor chooses his words carefully. “The dead possess a different sort of magic than the living.”

I snap my head toward Vale. “You’re saying the Nomad can talk to the dead? Get them to perform the ritual for us?”

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