And she’d never, not in a million years, tell him about the ridderak. She might feel something for him, but if he told his father about the power of the Wyrdmarks and Wyrdgates . . . Her blood chilled at the thought.But looking at him, with his face illuminated by firelight, she couldn’t see any resemblance to his father. No, she could only see his kindness, and intelligence, and maybe he was a tad arrogant, but . . . Jane’s toes scratched Fleetfoot’s ears. She’d expected him to stay away, to move on to another woman now that he’d tasted her.Well, did he even want to taste you in the first place?He moved his High Priestess, and Jane laughed. “Do you really wish to do that?” she asked. His face contorted with confusion, and she picked up her pawn, moving it diagonally, and easily knocked over the piece.“Damn!” he cried, and she cackled.“Here.” She handed him the piece. “Take it and try another move.” “No. I’ll play like a man and accept my losses!”They laughed, but silence soon c
The city was still and frozen around Vincent , and snow collapsed from the trees in large clumps as he passed by. His eyes darted among the branches and bushes. He’d needed to come out for a hunt today, if only to let the freezing air rush through him.He saw her face each time he closed his eyes. She haunted his thoughts, made him wish to do grand and wonderful things in her name, made him want to be a man who deserved to wear a crown.But Jane—he didn’t know how she felt. She kissed him—greedily, at that —but the women he’d loved in the past had always been eager. They’d gazed at him adoringly, while she just looked at him like a cat watching a mouse. Vincent straightened, detecting nearby movement. A stag stood ten yards away, feeding on bark. He stopped his horse and drew an arrow from its quiver. But he slackened the bow.She was to duel tomorrow.If harm came to her . . . No, she could hold her own; she was strong and smart and quick. He’d gone too far; he should never have kis
Standing on the wide veranda that encompassed the obsidian clock tower, Jane tried not to shiver. She couldn’t see the point in having the duels outside —well, apart from making the Champions even more uncomfortable. She glanced longingly at the glass windows that lined the wall of the castle, and then at the frost-covered garden. Her hands were already numb. Tucking them into her fur-lined pockets, she approached Benjamin, who was standing near the edge of the giant chalk circle that had been drawn on the flagstones.“It’s freezing out here,” she said. The collar and sleeves of her black jacketwere lined with rabbit fur, but it wasn’t enough. “Why didn’t you tell me it was outside?”Benjamin shook his head, looking at Grave, and at Renault—the mercenary from Skull’s Bay, who, to her satisfaction, also seemed fairly miserable in the cold. “We didn’t know; the king decided just now,” Benjamin said. “At least it should be over quickly.” He smiled slightly, though she didn’t return it.
The meeting day fast approached, and both Vincent and Jane got ready earlier than the meeting time. The previous day, Vincent had mentioned that they would need to discuss a couple of things as touching their faux relationship. Jane gave herself one last look over before leaving for Vincent 's room. She took one long breath before knocking on his door which opened effortlessly. Vincent 's back was turned to her when she walked in, his fingers fastening his wristwatch. Maryanne's gaze lingered on the broad expanse of Vincent 's back, moving lower to his legs, cladded in blue suit pants. He twirled, catching sight of an ogling Jane who flushed hard and turned away the moment he caught her staring at him. Her heart clattered in her chest, and she blinked more than necessary. "I've been waiting for you." His face twisted in a smile and he grabbed his tie from the sofa, striding to her, his charming smile still lining his face. "My tie." Without a word, she grabbed it from him with tremb
"Quite easy, James." All heads turned from Vincent to Jane who got off her seat, an air of confidence all around her. The question was about something their competitor had which they didn't. From the looks of it, they had already had a meeting with Broadway Enterprise before this particular one with F and A, pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of their proposal. James was aware that Vincent would be interested in his activities, and as such, he'd distracted him from looking further at his day-to-day dealings by frolicking with women, while he gave an audience to their rival party. Finding nothing fishy in his dealings, Vincent had ordered his men to quit monitoring James' activities. "While it is true that this idea and approach is novel, and hasn't been tested yet, and would therefore need tons of investment, it is no doubt the best we need if we're concerned about skyrocketing our target audience. In F and A, we've put this into consideration and that's exactly why we col
Jane stalked down the halls of the glass castle of Rifthold. The heavy sack clenched in her hand swung with each step, banging every so often into her knees. Despite the hooded black cloak that concealed much of her face, the guards didn’t stop her as she strode toward the King of Skull Gang’s council chamber. They knew very well who she was—and what she did for the king. As the King’s Champion, she outranked them. Actually, there were few in the castle she didn’t outrank now. And fewer still who didn’t fear her.She approached the open glass doors, her cloak sweeping behind her. The guards posted on either side straightened as she gave them a nod before entering the council chamber. Her black boots were nearly silent against the red marble floor.On the glass throne in the center of the room sat the King of Skull Gang, his dark gaze locked on the sack dangling from her fingers. Just as she had the last three times, Jane dropped to one knee before his throne and bowed her head.Vincen
“Just him, or all his clients, too?” Jane blurted.The king gave her a slow smile. “You know Archer? I’m not surprised.” A taunt—a challenge.She just stared ahead, willing herself to calm, to breathe. “I used to. He’s an extraordinarily well-guarded man. I’ll need time to get past his defenses.” So carefully said, so casually phrased. What she really needed time for was to figure out how Archer had gotten tangled up in this mess—and whether the king was telling the truth. If Archer truly were a traitor and a rebel … well, she’d figure that out later.“Then you have one month,” the king said. “And if he’s not buried by then, perhaps I shall reconsider your position, girl.”She nodded, submissive, yielding, gracious. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” “When you have dispatched Archer, I will give you the next name on the list.” She had avoided the politics of the kingdoms—especially their rebel forces—for so many years, and now she was in the thick of it. Wonderful.“Be quick,” the king warne
There was nothing interesting about the elegant, green-roofed townhouse, and she hadn’t learned anything about who lived there, other than the client’s name —some Lady Balanchine. She had used the same trick she’d employed at the other two houses to gain that bit of information: she pretended to be a courier with a package for Lord So-and-So. And when the butler or housekeeper said that this was not Lord So-and-So’s house, she’d feigned embarrassment, asked whose house it was, chatted up the servant a bit, and then went on her way.Jane adjusted the position of her legs and rolled her neck. The sun had nearly set, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. Unless she could get into the houses themselves, she wasn’t going to learn much else. And given the likelihood that Vincent might actually be doing what he was paid to do, she was in no rush to go inside. Better to learn where he went, who he saw, and then take the next step.It had been so long since she’d done something l