Page 83 of House of Lilith

“And now, a word from your Guardian,” the announcer says, struggling to be heard.

But when Ludwig Schwarz emerges from the crowd and starts climbing the stairs, everyone goes quiet.

Is he walking funny?

“Hello, everyone,” he says in that low, raspy voice of his, as he gives us all a nod and turns to face the audience.

I watch him closely. I haven’t had a chance since the murder and I know he was never accused, but it was also never proven that he’s not guilty. Corruption, probably. After all, heisa member of the holy Romanov Dynasty.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to say how miserable I am to be here tonight,” he starts, making my eyebrows immediately pull down.

I throw a glance at Ricky, who throws one back, also frowning. I hear a low murmur from everywhere around me.

But the Guardian of the Obscura continues as if nothing’s happened. “This is a year that I won’t forget for as long as I live. Especially now that I’ve been accused of murder.”

What the… There’s shifting in the audience, deep frowns, somber murmurs.

“I meant to say,” Schwarz rushes to correct himself, “especially since I’ve been chosen to be the Guardian of the Obscura.”

He lets out a nervous laugh. “I won’t be giving some long-winded speech,” he says. “All I really wanted to say is congratulations to all our players on making it to the Third Game. And may our guests hate it here so much that they leave as soon as possible.”

Now, that creates chaos. All of a sudden, I see members of my pack stepping out of the row in which we’re standing, their fists clenched as Schwarz tries to make himself heard over all the shouts coming from the audience.

Ricky by my side, I rush to step between him and the O’Malley brothers, who’ve gotten him surrounded.

“Don’t, fellas,” Schwarz pleads with them as they throw daggers at him, “this is some kind of mistake.”

“Is it?” one of the O’Malley brothers demands.

“Stop it,” I growl at them just as some of the other professors rush to the podium.

“Enough,” a clear, authoritative voice booms from somewhere behind me.

Everyone stops. And I meaneveryone.

My head snaps back and I see people letting the Pied Piper through. Exceptionally tall, intelligent-looking and scary, those are the words I’d use to describe her. Her black eyes sweep over all of us, making my skin prick, but she doesn’t linger. She walks over to us, to Schwarz, making me and Ricky take a step back, the O’Malley brothers dispersing as if they were children caught eating cookies before dinner.

I strain both my eyes and my ears, so as not to miss a thing. She leans to whisper something in Schwarz’s ear. When she pulls away, the expression on her face is unchanged. Indifferent yet determined. Buthisis the expression of a man helpless in his own anger.

My breath held, I watch him clear his throat and leave the podium, in utter silence and without giving any of us so much as a glance.

“What’re you waiting for?” the Pied Piper asks, making me tear my eyes away from the seething professor. She’s looking around the room, at people frozen in anticipation. “There’s a lot of alcohol that needs to be consumed as quickly as possible,” she says in a flat yet somehow playful voice. “I suggest you get on it.”

I think it’s the tone of her voice, if not her entire presence that makes the crowd around me relax.

The very next moment, the Pied Piper is taking her leave while everyone else is picking up where they left off.

I notice the other players start to disperse and my eyes land on Romanov, who’s about to go down the stairs with her fiance with a serious look on her face. For a second, our eyes meet and she hesitates, but she throws me a half-smile.

I throw one back and try to force myself to tear my eyes away from her before it becomes weird.

“Hey,” I hear Ricky say and I turn to look at him.

His eyes are narrowed, darting from me to her.

I blow out a joyless laugh. “Good man,” I say as I pat him on the back. “Up for one more drink?” I ask, eager to drown my sorrows.

Ricky gives me a sympathetic smile, nods and lets me lead him back to the bar. Where I quickly prove to be the worst, rejecting everyone’s attempts at striking a conversation with me and failing, again and again, to pay attention to Ricky’s speculation on how the next game will turn out.

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