Page 174 of Death of the Glass Angel
Talon grinned. “You almost sounded soft.” He gently lifted her hand. “You have my word, my lady.”
He kissed the curve of her fingers, eyeing her with sharp, playful eyes. Caressing her neck, he pulled their faces together, resting his forehead against hers. Closing her eyes, Des felt heat building in her throat as tears welled behind her eyes.
Talon hesitated, their lips but a whisper apart. His fingers trembled on her neck.
He pulled away, kissing her on the head instead. “If you need saving—if you think you’re in danger. Write. I’ll be there.” He swore.
Swallowing, Des opened her eyes as he released her and walked away. She bit her lip, refusing to turn around as he slipped out the window and vanished into the night.
Seeking comfort, she pulled the little stuffed dragon from her bag and cradled it in her arms.
Eros had loved stories. Tales of adventure and heroes. Piles of books had been hidden under his bed, read over and over.
Here Janus was, on her first adventure, only for the tale to end in tragedy.
The villain had won.
In that place of living memory, Felsin had told Janus to stop wallowing in grief and guilt and instead make it up to Eros. The kid would never let Janus live this down, to let it end like this.
Grabbing her cloak, Des swung it around her shoulders and threw open the door. Her eyes swept the room, landing on the blindfolded man sitting by the fire.
“Gemellus. Take me to the palace. “She ordered.
Rising, Gemellus glanced in her direction. To her surprise, he did not argue. Fetching his cloak, he escorted her to the door. “Have unfinished business that needs settling?”
“Yes.” Des hissed, pulling up her hood as they stepped out into the cold.
Snow gathered on their cloaks as their heels rapped on the cobbled road. An Altanese guard raised his spear, intercepting them as they reached the gates.
“Take me inside.” Des barked. “I need to speak with Heras.”
“My Lady, she’s-”
“Take me inside. “Des articulated.
The guard glanced at his fellow before guiding Des down the promenade and through the great stone doors. Low light hung over the keep as the red carpet muffled their steps.
Brand met them beneath the chandelier, a limp to his step as he smoothed down his tweed wrap and red waves. Amusement flared in his red eyes as he gazed at Des.
“Where is Heras?” Des demanded.
“Recovering from her wounds.” Brand drawled. “We were all injured. Show some grace.”
“Fine. You’ll do.” Des closed the gap between them. “I can see in your eyes that you think you’ve won. But I’ve figured out what you meant—I’ve learned who I am.”
Doubt flickered in Brand’s eyes. “Have you?”
“Every secret you clutch will come unraveled, and everything you feared will come to pass. You want war? I’ll give it to you.”
The amused flare returned. “You think we want war?” Brand chuckled. “You prove how little you understand.”
“I don’t care that I don’t understand.” Des snarled. “I care that you hurt me—that you hurt Talon and Felsin. And I won’t let you lay another finger on us.”
“You are fetching when you’re angry,” Brand said, smiling. “And finally, you’ve answered my question.You’rethe dark secret your Father hid Janus away for.” He leaned forward. “I look forward to seeing you flounder when you realize how hopelessly out of your depth you are.”
“Tell your mother to count her days. You shouldn’t have left me alive.” Des hissed, whirling around and marching away.
Gemellus fell into step with her as they left the palace. “Feel better now?”
