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  Kerrigan gulped. The hair rose on the back of her neck. But she pushed through, determined to master her fear. That was what she had been doing every day of her life since she had spoken with Cyrene. If she could just master her fear, she’d do great things. She’d taken that to heart, lived by it. And she needed it now.

  The inside of Black House looked like… a house. An old, dilapidated, musty, half-destroyed house but still just a house. She straightened her spine and continued forward into a large, empty den. She followed close on Fordham’s heels into a formal dining room, complete with an eerie chandelier missing most of its grandeur.

  “There’s no dust in here,” Fordham acknowledged, his voice still pitched low.

  Kerrigan blinked and held her own flame out in front of her. Despite the ramshackle exterior, the inside actually was relatively clean. That was strange.

  “None in here either,” he said from the next room over.

  She heard him stomp around the rest of the floor while she remained in the formal dining room, confused and more than a little creeped out. A phantom breeze brushed across her neck. She shivered and swatted at it, using her magic to stop it… but it didn’t stop.

  “Fordham,” she whispered.

  He clomped up the unstable stairs. She cringed.

  Suddenly, the temperature dropped precipitously. The farther up the stairs he went, the colder it got. Until her fingers and lips were numb. She breathed out in front of her and could see the cloud of smoke from her breath. It was the beginning of summer.

  “Fordham,” she said, louder this time, her voice full of panic.

  A giggle rang out behind her. Kerrigan whipped around, but there was nothing there. Then, she felt a tug on her hair. She turned around again …but still, nothing there.

  She backed up until her back hit the wall in the dining room. Her chest heaved painfully up and down as her heartrate skyrocketed.

  The wind picked up until she felt like she was outside. The torrent whipped her hair into her face and tried to lash her off the wall. But she held firm, paralyzed by her own fear. She had tried so hard to appear unmoved by all of this. To pretend as if she didn’t truly believe. Yet here she was, in Black House… being haunted.

  “I mean you no harm!”

  She willed her eyes shut and muttered nonsensically to herself as the wind swirled. She heard something break through the noise. Fordham was coming back downstairs.

  Just as he reached the last step, the wind disappeared, and Kerrigan felt the presence in the room leave with it.

  Fordham strode back in with a shake of his head. “It’s empty. The whole place is empty.”

  “Empty,” she whispered.

  “It looks like there might have been weapons here once, but they’re gone.”

  “Right.”

  “And no ghosts,” he said with a smile that would have made her knees weak if they weren’t already ready to collapse. His smile faltered. “What happened?”

  “Uh… nothing.”

  He frowned. “Let’s get you out of here. This is a dead end. No closer to finding out who killed Lyam or why they want you dead.”

  She nodded, but otherwise, she didn’t move. He stepped forward until they were mere inches apart. His hands came to rest on her shoulders. The heat from his body melted the hold that had been on her from the… spirits. She sank into his touch, pressing herself into his chest and clutching her still-frigid hands to his shirt.

  She felt him tense all over at her abrupt embrace. Then his hand came down around her and held her against him.

  “It’s all right. We’ve both had a long couple of days.”

  “Thank you for coming with me,” she whispered. “I know I… accused you of having ulterior motives last night, but…”

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  “It’s not. If I don’t want people to judge me for being a half-Fae, I shouldn’t judge people for things they can’t control.”

  She tilted her head up to look into those big gray eyes. His flicked between her eyes and then her mouth and back. Her heart stuttered in her chest for a whole new reason. She watched the calculation in his mind. The pull that she could no longer deny. It wasn’t just fate and visions that brought them together. She wanted to be near him.

  But just when she thought he might be starting to feel the same, he cleared his throat and released her.

  “Come on,” he said, turning away from her. “We should get out of here.”

  Kerrigan shivered, remembering where she was, and tried to hide her disappointment at the loss of his hands on her. Gods, she was in deep deep trouble.

  She tucked her arms around her stomach and followed him out of Black House. The place was empty and a dead end. The torture had all been for no reason. She was no closer to finding out the truth.

  Clover impatiently tapped her foot as they finally came back out to the street. “Well?”

  Kerrigan shook her head. “No weapons. It was empty.”

  “Yeah, but was it haunted?”

  “No,” Fordham said at the same time Kerrigan said, “Yes.”

  “It was not.”

  Kerrigan shrugged. “The ghosts only cared about me.”

  “You saw it?” Clover gasped.

  “Felt it,” she corrected. “Why don’t I tell you all about it on the way to the Wastes?”

  “We’re going to the Wastes?” Fordham asked. “What for?”

  “We are,” she said, pointing between herself and Clover. “You should go back to the mountain. After the last two days, we need to sleep and recoup to figure out our next move.”

  “And you’re going to sleep and recoup in the Wastes?” Fordham asked disbelievingly.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Clover said.

  “Yeah, and I need to have a conversation with Dozan Rook,” Kerrigan ground out.

  Fordham’s eyes narrowed. “I should go with you.”

  She waved him off. “I can handle Dozan.”

  Clover snorted, and Kerrigan glared at her.

  Clover held her hands up. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Training?”

  Fordham looked like the last thing he wanted to do was walk away while she headed toward the Wastes… toward Dozan. But he eventually nodded. “Dawn run.”

  She groaned. “I’m so looking forward to it.”

  He set his jaw and then nodded at the two of them before disappearing back toward the mountain.

  “So… why isn’t he coming with us?” Clover asked.

  Kerrigan didn’t answer as she watched his retreating back. “Should I trust him, Clove?”

  Clover produced one of her loch cigarettes. “Nope.”

  “Yeah… you’re probably right.”

  “But he’s so damn good to look at.”

  Kerrigan shook her head. “Another problem.”

  “One at a time, baby,” Clover said, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “Dozan first?”

  “Yeah,” she said, turning away from Fordham. “Dozan.”

  33

  The Crime Lord

  Kerrigan definitely should have gone back to the mountain and slept off this healing headache—or tried to, considering sleep still hated her. But she and Dozan had unfinished business, and Kerrigan couldn’t go back until they had it out.

  “You sure about this?” Clover asked, stubbing out her smoke.

  “Yep,” she spat.

  “You do know it’s Dozan Rook, right?”

  “Well aware.”

  “He’s not just any guy.”

  “No, he’s not,” she snarled.

  “Like, I know he wants to bang you… again, but—”

  “Please don’t finish that sentence,” Kerrigan warned. “I try not to think about that night.”

  “That bad?”

  Kerrigan glared at her. She did not want to have that conversation.

  Clover chuckled. “All right. I’ll leave you be, but be careful. He’s dangerous, Ker.”


  “I know.”

  She was still learning just how dangerous he was after all these years. But it didn’t stop her from storming into the Wastes and demanding to see him.

  Two guards were stationed in front of his private quarters. She glared at them with such ferocity that they balked at her anger.

  “Let me pass. I have to see Dozan.”

  “No one is to disturb him tonight,” the first guard said.

  “I’m not just anyone.”

  “I’d let her through, boys,” Clover said, pulling out another smoke with shaking hands. “You don’t want to see her get angry.”

  “We can’t. We’d lose our jobs,” the second said anxiously.

  “You’ll lose your jobs if you don’t let me through,” Kerrigan snarled.

  The first narrowed his eyes. “Dozan has company, and he said he wasn’t to be interrupted.”

  Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “I don’t care who he’s sleeping with.”

  Then, she brought her magic tight to her and pushed them both out of the way with a blast of air. She was past them and racing up the stairs before they even realized what she had done. She could hear them rushing after her, but she didn’t care. She was going to speak with Dozan, and she was going to do it right now.

  “Stop!” the second guard yelled, breathing heavily.

  Kerrigan should have been exhausted, but running wasn’t half as bad after all the training with Fordham. Adrenaline propelled her forward, and she yanked on the handle to the bedroom, pulling it wide. She startled when she saw who was inside.

  “You,” she hissed.

  Clare Rahllins turned slowly, a dagger in her hand. Her raven hair was once again over half of her face, but it didn’t cover her surprise. Flames erupted in Kerrigan’s hand, and she advanced on the woman who had her tortured.

  “Stop,” Dozan drawled lazily. His hand was out, and he stepped between them.

  The guards took that moment to barrel in, breathless. “Sir, we didn’t—”

  Dozan shook his head. “It’s fine. Return to your post.”

  They nodded reluctantly and eased out of the doorway. Kerrigan advanced another step.

  “She tortured me,” Kerrigan snarled.

  “You murdered half of my men,” Clare shot back.

  Kerrigan winced at that. She hadn’t known their fates. She had guessed, but… gods, she’d killed them all?

  Clare spun on Dozan. “She was working for you?”

  “No,” Dozan said levelly. “She was working for herself. I would never send someone so sloppy in.”

  Kerrigan bared her teeth at him. “I’ll show you sloppy.”

  “Red,” he warned, his golden eyes boring into her. “Stop.”

  She wanted to leap forward and attack the woman. Just the sight of her made her blood boil. But Dozan’s warning was clear—he was handling it. With effort, she released her flames, though she held her magic close, just in case.

  Dozan nodded his head at Clare. “You can go. I’ll be in touch.”

  Kerrigan pushed herself away from Clare. She stood stiffly, watching the woman with unease. Clare regarded her in the same way. She had just made a powerful enemy.

  Dozan stepped forward and pulled the door closed behind Clare. He didn’t immediately face Kerrigan. Just stared at the door for a few precious minutes in silence.

  “I can handle Clare,” he finally said.

  “Handle her?”

  “So that she doesn’t seek revenge on you.” His voice was barely a whisper but filled to the brim with power. “Though she refused to tell me who she’d sold those weapons to. I’m sure she knows it’s her only bargaining chip.”

  “So, you have nothing.”

  “I cleaned up your mess,” he growled.

  She couldn’t take it any longer. “You knew,” she snarled. “You knew this whole time.”

  He turned around to face her. His face was, as ever, unreadable. “Knew what?”

  “You knew about my magic.”

  “You told me about your magic.”

  She stepped forward until she was right in front of him. “Don’t play games with me, Dozan. Five years ago, I was beaten to within an inch of my life. You found me. You brought me back here. You told me that you saved me, that you killed those men, that I was safe.”

  “Did I?” he asked, a glint in his honey eyes.

  “Yes,” she snarled. “You failed to mention that I used some kind of… I don’t know… energy bomb to kill all those Fae.”

  “Do you regret killing the Fae who would have killed you?”

  “No,” she immediately said, but her stomach twisted. “But you told me that you did it!”

  “Did I?” he repeated. He brushed a lock of her hair out of her face, and she slapped his hand away. “Or did I let you come to your own conclusions? You didn’t know what had happened. You woke up here, with me, safe. You assumed that I’d killed the Fae who had done that to you and that I’d spirited you away to safety. There was no reason for me to let you think otherwise.”

  “Other than the truth?”

  “The truth? Kerrigan, you were twelve years old and had just been badly beaten. It was a mercy that I did not tell you that you had murdered a half-dozen Fae. How would you have reacted to that news?”

  She stumbled at that thought. How would she have reacted? She never would have recovered. At the time, she had been young and innocent yet jaded. She had seen the world as having done her a great injustice. It was only through that beating and subsequent journey to help Cyrene that she had realized she wanted a bigger purpose in her life, to take action for herself. If she had known she was a murderer…

  She shuddered.

  “Exactly,” Dozan said.

  “Don’t act like you were simply doing something altruistic,” Kerrigan said, taking a step away from him. “Everyone knows that you only act in your own self-interest. That you surround yourself with unique, magical people. I thought it was my visions that you coveted when I returned last year, but I should have known better.”

  “I covet you,” he said baldly.

  She laughed at him. “You want my powers. Nothing more. I’m just another instrument of the king of the Wastes.”

  “Is that so bad?” he asked, closing the distance once more. His hand came up under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Is it so bad to be wanted? For your powers, for exactly who you are, Kerrigan? I don’t want you to be anything else. You don’t have to change for me. You can be as brilliant as you are, right here, with me.”

  His lips dipped down toward hers, but she wrenched back before he could finish. She was not going to fall helplessly into Dozan Rook’s arms. She didn’t want to play that game.

  She slapped him across the face—hard. “Don’t you dare presume to kiss me.”

  He grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I do love your fight.”

  “You lied to me. You want to use me. You’re a scoundrel and an asshole.”

  “I am what I am, Ker,” he whispered her name like a prayer, holding his hands out in front of him.

  “I’m done,” she spat at him. “I’m just done. The fight is off.”

  He straightened even further to his considerable height. He went from the supplicating man to the crime lord in the blink of an eye. “You can’t walk out on a deal with me.”

  “Watch me!”

  She yanked open the door to his rooms and flung them wide.

  Dozan grabbed her wrist. “You’re making a huge mistake. No one double-crosses me without facing the consequences.”

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before you lied to me. I promise you that I am a much more formidable opponent than you want to take on,” she challenged him.

  His eyes glittered with ferocity. A challenge. Oh, how he loved challenges.

  “We’ll see then, won’t we?”

  34

  The Explosion

  Isa

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Isa gro
wled as she burst into the home of her benefactor.

  Her black mask was securely in place, and those she passed hastily scurried out of her way. She was a force today.

  She thrust her hand out at the door, and it burst open with a jet of air. She didn’t often get angry enough to use her magic. Her greatest triumph was that she was skilled enough not to have to use it if she didn’t want to.

  “Isa,” the man said, once again facing the window.

  He wore a red velvet coat, long in the back, with a top hat. His pants were navy blue with a strip of velvet down the side of the leg. He looked ostentatious and ridiculous. A man who had money but no class.

  “Tell me that she didn’t ruin the weapons deal with that Rahllins’ bitch,” she snarled.

  “You were supposed to kill her,” he reminded her coolly, his voice frigid.

  “And I would have if she hadn’t been working with that House of Shadows competitor. She never goes anywhere alone anymore.”

  “I didn’t promise you an easy target.”

  “Yeah, well, targeting the competitors would be beyond foolish, especially after what happened five years ago.”

  He slowly turned around, and his eyes swept her. “You’re still mad that she got the better of you. I did warn you, she would be an adversary.”

  Isa gritted her teeth. “Not her. Him.”

  He waved his hand with a flourish. “No matter. I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

  No, no, no. She needed that money. It would be enough to get her out of Kinkadia. Maybe not enough to set herself up well, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She’d learned that long ago.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “The deal is off, Isa,” he said frankly.

  “The deal is not off. I can still get her. Plus, I helped with the weapons. Everything went fine on my end,” she spat at him.

  “And then she ruined it. How did she even know it was happening?”

  Isa said nothing. She couldn’t tell him that she’d lost a blade. That would damn her. If he told her father…