Page 4 of Dance of Ruin

Nico exhales smoke, tilting his head. “Then I’ll say it again, slower. Who. The. Fuck. Is. Paying. You.”

My fingers clench the ivy and iron as the other man bristles.

“Who I do business with is none of your goddamn concern. We had a deal?—”

“I don’t dodealswith little fuckers who are more interested in spying on me and my family than they are in actuallycompletingsaid deal. So why don’t we cut the bullshit, and we can skip to the part where you just tell me what I want to?—”

“You don’t scare me, Barone,” the other man spits. I can see his throat muscles working, his hands twitching at his sides. “I don’t give a fuck. I know you’re involved inthat fucking club,” he whispers, his voice fraying at the edges.

Nico stills.

Something shifts in the air. It's subtle, but even I can feel it as surely as if the temperature had dropped.

The man facing Nico definitely feels it, too. He stiffens, chest heaving with the effort of trying to hide his fear. But it’s useless. You can see it in the way his fingers twitch, in the way his breath quickens.

“What club?” Nico asks, his voice silken, but with a sharp edge underneath it that makes my skin prickle. A slow, predatory smile curves his lips.

The man hesitates, clearly regretting opening his mouth.

“The Black Court,” he finally grits out, jaw clenched like he’s bracing for impact.

Nico takes a slow step toward him.

The man’s courage falters, his attempt at defiance crumbling under the sheer weight of Nico’s presence.

Nico keeps advancing.

“And what is that?” His voice is calm, unhurried.

The man stumbles over his words. “N-nothing,” he mumbles. “It’s just a rumor.”

“Well, I’dvery muchlike to hear this rumor.”

The smoothness is gone now, his voice dropping deeper and more dangerous.

The man caves, shrinking into himself, his back pressed up against the roof ledge behind him as if he’s painfully aware that there’s nowhere to run.

Suddenly, I can’t breathe.

“Tell me what exactly you heard about this…rumor.”

The man shakes his head, as if that will somehow make Nico back off.

Slowly, Nico takes a final drag of his cigarette, plucks it from his lips, then deftly flicks it over the edge, sending it into the cool night air.

He moves quickly, and the man is instantly choking as Nico’s fingers wrap around his throat.

I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling a gasp. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Tell me what you heard,” Nico murmurs, his tone disturbingly quiet, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The man chokes, his hands clawing frantically at Nico’s wrist.

“The—The Black Court,” he bleats, his voice strangled. “Everyone knows it’s out there!”

Nico doesn’t move, doesn’t evenblink.

“And?”

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