Page 97 of Kings & Chaos

I followed him into the room and shut the door behind us.

We passed through a small narrow hall, past a doorway that led to a cramped kitchen, cabinet doors askew, and into a main area that had once been someone’s living room.

Neo was there, and he wasn’t alone.

Some guy was in the middle of the empty room, tied to a chair, duct tape over his mouth.

His eyes were wide, but he seemed to be intact.

“Finally,” Neo said.

“We’re five minutes late,” Oscar said.

“Still late.” Neo looked at me. “You ready for this, Jezebel?”

“No.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I told you I’m not doing it. The answer isn’t different just because Oscar convinced me to show up.”

“Would you change your mind if Connor here had information about Emma?” Neo asked.

Shock rolled through my body, the ground shifting beneath my feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Turns out, our friend Connor was meeting with Zachary Walsh before he died.” Neo kicked him in the knee. “Isn’t that right?”

The guy’s eyes widened even further, and he shook his head vigorously, words muffled behind the tape covering his mouth.

“Don’t mind him,” Neo said. “He’s a fucking liar. But we’re going to get the truth out of him.” He held out a knife. “Or you are.”

I ignored the knife in his hand and swallowed around the lump that had risen in my throat.

A work light had been set up in one corner of the room. It cast eerie uneven light over the man’s face, but I thought he looked vaguely familiar, and I stepped closer, taking in his features, trying to figure out where I’d seen him.

He was young, probably about our age, with fair hair and soft features. I couldn’t tell how tall he was in the chair, but he was definitely built.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“A traitor,” Neo said. “So you two should get along just fine.”

I ignored the jab. It had been ages since Neo had given me shit about my dad. He was just trying to bait me, make me mad enough to want to hurt the guy in the chair.

“I don’t believe you,” I said to him. “About Emma. This is some guy you pulled off the street. You just want to win the game.”

“Wrong.” Neo looked at Oscar. “Show her.”

Oscar stepped toward the guy, then tore open his shirt as easily as if he were peeling an orange.

My eyes went straight to the ink on Connor’s chest: a medieval castle, a dragon breathing fire from its turret.

I’d seen the image before. In keeping with Aventine’s history with chess, it was the logo for Castle house.

The Irish.

And now I knew where I’d seen him before — in the cafeteria, at the quarry, on campus.

“He’s a Rook,” I said.

“Now you’re catching on,” Neo said.

“But this… isn’t this against the rules?” My mind was spinning, torn between the game, Neo’s tease about Emma, and the fact that our victim was a member of a competing house.

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