PROLOGUE
The girl was still alive when he returned with the tablecloth they’d use to dispose of her.
The material slid between his fingers. Honeybee silk, a shroud suited for bluer blood than hers, though she wouldn’t be grateful. A burst of wind swept in from the balcony to dim the sconces ringing the ballroom, but he could still make out the figure on the floor, hear labored breaths quickening as he approached. More corpse than girl, she contorted into a fetal position, clutching what was left of her robes around her thin chest. Lacerations graffitied her breasts and sallow face. Chunks of singed hair littered the floor around her, the remainder melded to her scalp.
His lips pressed together.Not again.After a brief, futile search for patience, he fixed the fool across the room with a stare.
“Five minutes,” he said through clenched teeth. “I left you for five minutes to cut her up for disposal. What in all the hells is this?”
The oaf fidgeted, clutching his arm. A nasty wound bled through his fingers. “It’s a prime piece of flesh.”
There was nothing prime about the body bleeding over the floor, but his business partner wasn’t known for his intelligence.
He spread out the tablecloth. “How did she cut you?”
“She’s a healer,” the fool spat. “Ripped at me when I touched her.”
“Well, she’s weak or she’d have liquefied you, bones and all, wouldn’t she? You’d be a screaming shapeless mass of skin.” He let the suddenly quiet man consider that image. “Pack her up.”
“I didn’t even get to enjoy her,” the fool said mulishly, crouching to ponder the mess he’d made of her. “Might still be able to make it work, though.”
Trying and failing to be surprised that the man could evoke enthusiasm for a half-burnt, half-dead girl, his gaze drifted back to the floor. Her resistance had cost her. The bones of a chair lay fragmented by her skull,a once ornate vase’s ceramic shards studding her skin to leak blood over the tiles. By the Elsar, disposing of her was going to be a headache.
“What I don’t understand is why she was here.” His voice was dangerously quiet. “She’s clearly no illusion magus, and this room is well warded. How did she get in?”
The other man rose, color slowly leeching from his face. “In my defense,” he mumbled, “I couldn’t have known that she was awake.”
Alarm spiked sharp through him.In my defense.The most useless words in the common tongue.
In two strides, he seized the man by his collar. “Explain.”
“I stuffed her in the closet before our meeting, alright? For afterward. I thought she was asleep—” The fool choked, going ruddy as he tightened his grip. “Her wine was drugged! A few sips should have incapacitated her!”
He released him with a barrage of curses. “She pretended to drink it, youhavïdfool. They’re smarter these days. They don’t simply swallow what’s offered to them.”
Which meant that she would have been lucid throughout it all. Could have overheard them. Everything he’d worked for could vanish like lightning, and all for one man’s depravity. He’d never liked the fool, but, tonight, he’d happily burn his throat to a crisp. His thoughts must have shown because the other man sidled out of reach.
“By the Elsar, it was a mistake,” the fool croaked. “It won’t happen again—”
“So don’t let it linger,” he hissed. “Carve her up.Now.”
“But I didn’t get to—”
“Do I look like I give a damn about whether or not you got to bed her?”
The fool shrank away. “There’s just one other thing.”
I should just kill him. He waited.
The man looked everywhere but at him. “She’s the one that girl of yours brought.”
He stilled as the words sank in, then lunged across the room. The fool darted to one side, a finger sweeping across a rune on his armilla. A shield of lightning hissed and crackled to life, enveloping him.
Within, he crossed his arms, chin jutting out despite the sweat beading on his temples. “She’s just some northern girl!”
“Somenorthern girlthat myaidevalued enough to bring here!” he snarled. “Did she see you with her tonight?” He swore when the man nodded. “What happens when she finds her missing and you were the last person seen with her?”
“We’re handling it, aren’t we?”