Page 25 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
It was only a matter of time before the entire vampire population was in an uproar. Before all of Starysa found out that immortals were disappearing without a trace.
“Does the kralv know?” Veros asked, his face a mask of indifference.
Caedian nodded sharply. “Yes, my lord. He does.”
A beat of heavy silence passed between them.
“And?” Atlas prodded.
“And nothing, Your Highness.” Caedian glowered, his frustration evident. “He didn’t ask any questions, he onlymumbled something about bothersome pests, then walked away. He didn’t even care.”
Fucking bastard.
Oldrich didn’t give a damn about Prava. He might have once, before, but not any longer. His greed for wealth far outreached the safety of his subjects. But these vanishings, they were not some little conflict that could be shoved into a closet or swept under a rug to be dealt with another day. They would inevitably cause a rift between the mortals and immortals, especially in regard to where the blame was placed.
Veros leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands across his lap. “Perhaps I made a mistake in taking away Everinne’s finances.”
Atlas’s brows pinched together with confusion. “How so?”
Veros rubbed his lips together, thinking. “All the immortals that have disappeared so far, what is the one thing they have in common?”
“They’re similar in age?” Caedian suggested.
Atlas thought for a moment. No, age would not matter. It would have to be something greater, something more significant.
Shadows fell across Veros’s face. “No. Their magic.”
“But, my lord.” Caedian sat up straight, then ran a hand through his white hair. “None of their magic is similar.”
“You’re right.” On his next breath, Veros closed his eyes. When he opened them again, a swirl of an emotion Atlas had never seen before lurked in their turquoise depths. “But each of their magic israre.”
Oh shit.
“Oh, shit,” Caedian murmured, echoing his sentiments completely.
Veros made a painfully valid point. All eight immortals were blessed with obscure kinds of magic, and the only people whoknew about Everinne’s magic were the ones sitting in his study. The only reason Caedian knew was because he’d witnessed it. Once.
“If I don’t protect her,” Veros whispered more to himself than to them, “who will?”
“We will.” Atlas looked to his Captain of the Guard. “I want Everinne watched at all times, but only send your best soldiers. The ones who move with the shadows, who track and remain undetected. The ones who stay out of sight.”
Veros made a derisive sort of noise, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward. “If she finds out she’s being spied on, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“None of us will.” Atlas grinned, knowing full well Everinne would make their lives miserable. Then he returned his attention back to Caedian. “I want reports of her every movement. Daily updates of her whereabouts. If she so much asbreathes, I want to be informed. Do you understand?”
Caedian nodded, pressing one fist to his heart. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness.”
Atlas stole a glance at Veros. Worry haunted the planes of his face. There was a sliver of fear there too, the deep, terrifying realization that he may not be able to protect his sister.
“Relax, Veros.” Atlas leaned back, confident in his abilities to at least doonething right. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”
He told himself he’d do it for anyone, that he would put such extreme precautions in place for anyone else. But it was a lie. Everinne might be careless and a thorn in his side at times, but by the gods, she waspowerful. If she fell into the wrong hands, if her magic was controlled by someone with a corrupt heart, it would be devastating.
Atlas glamoured a deck of cards on the table in front of him, and a healthy stack of gold coins. He bent forward and started shuffling. “Who’s up for a round of Cups?”
Caedian’s robust laughter filled the study, pressing down on the tension until it dissolved completely.
“Last time we played Cups, you took all of my money.” But then he pulled out a velvet pouch and gave it a shake. The jingle of coins echoed loudly. “Deal me in.”
