Page 44 of The Crow Games

“I don’t kill,” Asher reminded me.

I pulled off the fingerbone pinned to the warlock’s collar and pocketed it to dispose of respectfully later. Then I rolled the tea cart over his body to help conceal him.

“Don’t let anyone in,” I said to Asher.

He spread his shadows wide, blotting out the cart and the fallen guard.

I pushed inside. The study smelled of vellum and old books and lantern oil. Lost to his reading, Bram lounged in a wingback chair beside a leaning tower of volumes that threatened to topple.

I shut the door behind me with a snap, and the tower fell. Bram jumped to his feet, startled. His silk shirt was rolled to his elbows. The lapels of his brocade waistcoat hung open.

His brow smoothed, and his smile was breathtaking, evidence of his mind magic already hard at work. I holstered my dagger.

“Maven,” he breathed, closing his book and setting it aside on the arm of the chair. “I so hoped you’d find your way back to me.”

I charged across the room, shoved him down into his seat, and he put up no fight at all. My spirit stirred along my veins, pooling in my fingers to turn them gray. I pushed my hands into his chest.

He watched them disappearing into his body with a gasp and a breathy laugh. His heart pumped violently at the ethereal invasion and then calmed.

“I knew it,” he said, his hazel eyes intent on mine. “I knew you were so much more than you pretended to be.”

“Lisbeth is dead,” I said, and her name tasted like ash in my mouth. “You havesecondsto tell me who killed her and why, or when I take my hands back out of your chest, I’m bringing your heart with it.”

His placid expression never changed. His eyes, verdant greens and browns like a forest floor, never dimmed. “I didn’t hurt your precious Lisbeth. I liked her. I wanted to recruit you both for my cause, but you were a difficult case, so frightfully resistant. You wouldn’t let me close. I thought I was finally getting somewhere with you and then—well, you know the rest.”

His heart in my palm didn’t falter. It beat on in a steady patter.

Like he was telling the truth.

“Fuck you and your cause,” I rumbled. “Who killed my sister?”

Bram had the audacity to study the backs of his hands instead of responding. He glanced forlornly at the books that had fallen open, their pages bent.

“Am I boring you?” I demanded, giving his heart a pinch.

His hazel eyes flickered back to mine, and his mouth curled at the corners wolfishly. “Never that, darling. But I know you won’t kill me.”

“Watch me.”

“You won’t, because I have everything you need right up here.” He tapped his temple. “You want to know who killed her, but you can’t have that if I’m dead. And I’m not giving that away for free. If you want something, you’ve got to give me something in return.”

“I’m giving you the chance to keep breathing,” I said, dropping my hands to his lungs and squeezing until he wheezed.

Bram’s smile went crooked. He let his long legs fall open, his posture loose in his cushioned seat. “As much as I love a bit of rough play, if I don’t let you go soon, you’ll miss your train. I hate to see you leave. This is the most I’ve gotten you to talk to me in months, and it’s so much better than I ever imagined. I never could have guessed how wonderfullyspiritedyou are. You hid yourself and Lisbeth very well.”

Anger and grief caught me by the throat, and suddenly it was like someone had their hands in my lungs, not the other way around. “Stop acting like you care about her,” I hissed.

“But I do care.” His eyes softened and his hands cupped my jaw, his touch satiny smooth. Too flawless. He swiped his thumb across my cheek, chasing away a tear that broke free. “I care very much for you and that vibrant little sister of yours, more than I ever wanted to. Caring this much about anyone is a perilous risk in the Otherworld. I’d give my concern away if I could.”

It was too tempting thinking there was someone out there in the world other than me who missed Lisbeth. Someone who understood even just a little bit how lovely she was and didn’t want her dead for being dangerous. I wanted someone else to want the wrong of it all made right. I didn’t want to be alone in that anymore.

Bram couldn’t be that someone else. He may not have murdered Lisbeth, but that hardly made him innocent.

“You’re lying,” I bit out. “Your circlet is making me want to believe it, but I won’t be tricked. This is all just more god games. Do you know you’re just a pawn to them, or have they got you fooled that you’re a king?”

Bram pulled the circlet off his head and tossed it onto the messy pile of books on the floor, ruffling the part in his chestnut hair. “I didn’t kill your sweet sister. I’m sorry she’s dead. I know exactly where I stand with the damn gods. Help me, and together I swear to you we’ll make them pay.”

“Makewhopay?” I begged.

---