Jane had Damaris drawn and leveled at Hobbs in a heartbeat. Fleetfoot growled at him, but kept back, a step behind Jane .“What are you doing here?” It was inconceivable that he’d be here. How had he gotten in?“I’ve been tracking you for weeks,” Hobbs said, eyeing the dog. “Nehemia told me about the passages, showed me the way in. I’ve been down here almost every night since she died.”Jane glanced at the portal. If Nehemia had warned her not to open the portal, then she was certain her friend didn’t want Hobbs seeing it, either. She moved to the wall, keeping well away from the blackness as she ran her hand over the glowing green marks, making to wipe them away.“What are you doing?” Hobbs demanded.Jane pointed Damaris at him, furiously wiping at the marks. They didn’t budge. Whatever this spell was, it was far more complex than the one that had sealed the library door—merely swiping away the marks wouldn’t undo it. But Hobbs now stood between her and the book where she had
She reached out a hand as if to grab his, but lowered it—making her face tender and soft and bittersweet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have been working toward this for weeks. We could have tried to solve the riddle together. If I’d known what Nehemia was going to do, how she could lie to me again and again … She betrayed me. In every possible way, Hobbs . She lied to my face, made me believe …” Her shoulders slumped. After a long moment, she took a step toward him. “Nehemia was no better than Arobynn or Clarisse in the end. Hobbs , you should have told me. About everything. I knew it wasn’t Mullison—he wasn’t smart enough. If you’d told me, I could have taken care of it.” A risk—a leap of faith. “For you … For us, I would have taken care of it.”But Hobbs gave her a hesitant smile. “She spent so much time complaining about Councilman Mullison that I knew he’d be the easiest one to blame. And thanks to that competition, he already had a connection to Grave.”“Grave didn’t
She didn’t remember anything after the first two swings of her sword, only that she’d suddenly seen Fleetfoot come flying at the creature. The sight had distracted her enough for the Assassin to get past her guard, its long, white fingers grabbing her by the hair and slamming her head into the wall.Then darkness.She wondered whether she’d died and awoken in hell as she opened her eyes to a pulsing headache—and the sight of Bolton , circling the pale demon, blood dripping from both of them. And then there were cool hands on her head, on her neck, and Vincent crouching in front of her as he said, “Jane .”She struggled to her feet, her head aching even more. She had to help Bolton . Had to—She heard a rip of clothing and a yelp of pain, and she looked at Bolton in time to see him grasp the cut on his shoulder, inflicted by those filthy, jagged nails. The creature roared, its overlong jaw gleaming with saliva, and it lunged again for the captain.Jane tried to move, but she wasn’t
She knew the shift had happened, because it hurt like hell. A flash of blinding pain as her features ripped free of the hold that hid them. The Assassin lunged, and she plummeted into the well of power that was suddenly overflowing inside of her.Skills , savage and unforgiving, erupted out of her, punching into the creature and sending it flying. Flame—years ago, her power had always manifested as some form of fire.She could smell everything, see everything. Her heightened senses pulled her attention every which way, telling her that this world was wrong, and she needed to get out now.But she wouldn’t get out, not until Bolton and Fleetfoot made it to safety.The creature stopped rolling, on its feet in an instant, and Jane put herself between it and Bolton . The Assassin sniffed at her, sinking onto its haunches.She lifted Damaris and bellowed her challenge.From far off in the mist, roars answered. One of them came from the thing in front of her.She looked at Bolton , still c
Though Jane ’s Dark knight senses were extinguished, she could swear she still smelled Hobbs ’s cologne as she moved toward the sewer tunnel, still smelled the blood on him.He had destroyed everything. He’d had Nehemia assassinated, had manipulated them both, had used Nehemia’s death to drive a wedge between her and Bolton , all in the name of power and revenge …She would take him apart. Slowly.I know what you are, he’d said. She didn’t know what Arobynn had told him about her heritage, but Hobbs had no idea what sort of darkness lurked inside her, or what sort of monster she was willing to become in order to make things right.Ahead of her, she could hear muffled curses and banging against metal. By the time she reached the sewer tunnel, she knew what had happened. The grate had slid shut, and none of Hobbs ’s attempts to open it had worked. Perhaps the gods did listen sometimes. Jane smiled, drawing both of her daggers.She walked through the archway, but the passage was empty
Bolton watched blood bubble out of Hobbs ’s lips as Jane let him slump to the stone floor. She stared down at the body, her final words to him hovering in the air, running claws over Bolton ’s already chilled skin. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as she took a long breath—as if she were embracing the death before her, and the stain it left as payment for her vengeance.He had arrived in time to hear Hobbs beg for his life—and utter the words that had been his last mistake. Bolton shifted his boot against the step to warn her that he was there. How much of her Dark knight senses did she retain when she looked like a human?Hobbs ’s blood spread across the dark stones, and Jane opened her eyes as she slowly turned to Bolton . The blood had soaked the ends of her hair, turning them a brilliant red. And her eyes … There was nothing there, as though she’d been hollowed out. For a heartbeat, he wondered if she would kill him, too—just for being there, for seeing the dark tru
“You still can’t trust me,” he finished.She nodded. In this, she knew Hobbs had won, and hated him for it. “When I look at you,” she whispered, “all I want to do is touch you. But what happened that night … I don’t know if I can ever forget it.” The deepest cut on his cheek had scabbed, and she knew it would scar. “For my part, I am sorry for what I did to you.”He stood, wincing at his wounds, and walked over to her. “We both made mistakes,” he said in that voice that made her heart stumble.She found the nerve to turn to him, gazing up into his face. “How can you still look at me like that when you know what I truly am?”His fingers grazed her cheeks, warming her chilled skin. “Dark knight, assassin—no matter what you are, I—”“Don’t.” She stepped back. “Don’t say it.”She couldn’t give him everything again—not now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Even if she ever learned to forgive him for picking the king over Nehemi
When Jane finished telling Vincent the story she’d told Benjamin —albeit a much more limited version—he let out a long sigh and fell back onto his bed. “It sounds like something out of a book,” he said, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the other side of the bed.“Believe me, I thought I was going mad for a while.”“So you actually opened a portal to another world? Using these Morsecodes ?” She nodded. “You also knocked that creature aside like it was a leaf caught in a wind.” Oh, she hadn’t forgotten about that. Not for one moment had sheforgotten what it meant for him to have such raw power.“That was dumb luck.” She watched him, this kind, clever prince of hers. “I still can’t control it.”“In the tomb,” she said, “there is someone who might … offer you some advice on how to control it. Who might have some information about the kind of power you’ve inherited.” Right then, though, she didn’t exactly know how to explain Mort to him,