Page 124 of Fortress of Ambrose
The man was covered in blood, bits of his flesh hanging from his skin. A feral look burned in his eyes. “A desperate will to survive.”
“The ancestors are like anyone else.” Winkel gave him the book. Yagrin pondered. They just wanted to live as long as they could. In a half-human form, if they must. He hadn’t considered how human their interests were. He was about to leave, but remembered his promise to Nore.
“Do you have any idea where the Duncan piece of the Scroll could be? Nore wants it.” Now that the well of trust had been opened, Yagrin couldn’t stop himself.
“Mmm. I imagine she would. Your own relationship with members of the Duncan family might be more illuminating. After all, you are a Dragun.”
He shrugged in confusion. Then it hit him.
Shelby Duncan.
A débutante at House of Marionne when Quell was there. She died gruesomely, turned to dust. The scandalous murder was pinned on Darragh Marionne because it took place on her property. It wasn’t true. Jordan told him a ruthless House of Perl Dragun named Felix had killed Shelby.
“It’s time for my prayers,” Winkel said, ushering him to the door. “But let’s do this again sometime. If only to get under Ginger’s skin.”
Yagrin’s mouth bowed unnaturally. This man was helpful. And kind.
“Thank you for your service.” Winkel shook his hand.
Yagrin blinked. “Uh, sure. You’re welcome.” As a Dragun, Yagrin had never felt like he was serving anything other than his aunt’s greedy motives. This felt different. This felt good.
“How did you—” Ginger started as he passed, leaving the upper floors.
But he hurried down the stairs.
If he could come up with a way to appeal to the dead’s humanity and break the Pact, nothing else mattered. Everything in him wanted to throw away this needle-in-a-haystack search for the Scroll and focus on the Pact. But Nore would be devastated that he ignored a direct favor she asked.
If Winkel was right, maybe he could give finding the Scroll one last shot. He could find Shelby Duncan’s family and bring them a priceless gift in exchange for a meeting with whoever was in charge of the House family. When he arrived at his room, there was a sealed letter on his desk in his brother’s handwriting.
We need to speak. Urgently.
Tell me where.
—J
Yagrin picked up a pen to reply, then froze. Things had changed so much since he and his brother struck a deal to part ways with the same goal in mind: find the Scroll to save Quell. His brother would be furious. They should talk in person.
Jordan knew Felix better. Maybe he had ideas about a way to loosen Duncan’s family’s tongue. It took him a few hours, but he found and dug through past issues ofDebs Dailyto the one announcing Shelby’s murder. Darragh Marionne was alluded to as the prime suspect because Shelby was killed in the forest behind her estate. He skimmed the paragraph until he found a mention of Shelby’s father’s name before dropping two messages in an Ambrose outbox.
Fifty
Jordan
My side hurts.
More than it has in a long time.
I sit myself up on the blackened floorboards in this abandoned house, wondering how long I’ve been unconscious. Cuts and scrapes cover my arms. I dig the salve out of my pocket, squeeze the last little bit there is on my skin, and rub it in. I stand, surveying what’s left of the two-story home I found in the woods a few miles from Chateau Soleil.
The home I just destroyed.
From the outside, the blue Colonial looked like something on a postcard. Now it looks like someone took a torch to the siding. South of House of Marionne’s property, through the forest I already leveled, is an overgrown trail to a small neighborhood of eleven houses on a cul-de-sac. At first, I panicked. The thin forest around Chateau Soleil meant this hideaway could overhear things happening at House of Marionne. But I snuck around the cul-de-sac, peering into the homes one evening.
And they are all empty.
Deserted.
The first time I entered one of the houses, I was looking for a place to spew the darkness, something to burn. I long to hold Quell, to be near her, to give her the comfort she looks to me for. If satiating my magic for an evening could allow me to lie with her for an hour, I will feed it allnight long,for days on end, until my bones ache and I can’t feel the hum of cold in me at all anymore. I’m not sure it will work, so I hesitate to tell her what I’ve been doing and risk disappointment. But we’ll know soon enough.
