Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
It was a few blocks before Clover had the distinct feeling that someone was watching them. Each turn felt like a pair of eyes. She couldn’t hear the sound of pursuit or the clomp of feet, but the feeling remained.
Hadrian met her gaze as they took another turn closer to headquarters.
“Do you think we’re being followed?” she whispered.
He looked behind him. “I don’t know.”
She bit her lip. Life had gotten harder in Kinkadia, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She clutched the amulet at her chest. Her father’s amulet now gave her magic just like the Fae had. It wasn’t internal and took a lot of work to make it function, but it was all hers. If someone was stupid enough to follow her, she’d be ready.
When they reached headquarters, Clover looked over her shoulder one more time, but there was nothing there.
“Thea?” Clover called, removing her cloak and hanging it on a peg.
Headquarters was dark. The meeting for Rights For All should have already ended, but a host of new humans and half-Fae who were interested in joining their amulet army should have been lingering.
Hadrian used a tiny bit of fire magic to light a lantern, illuminating the narrow room that had a long table down the middle. Papers littered the space but no people.
Clover had a bad feeling about this—the same bad feeling that had been hounding her since she left Fallon’s house. Had the person tailing her beaten her here? Was that possible?
She opened the amulet and reached for the thread of magic at the center. “Thea?” she repeated.
A sound came from the back room. Clover dashed forward, pushing open the door that led to their workroom. During the day, a dozen tinkerers worked on the amulet design and trained those who were learning to the use the magic. Tonight, it was almost empty.
“Isa,” Clover said, holding a hand out like to an abused dog.
Isa had Thea around the middle and pulled her back to Isa’s chest, a knife at Thea’s throat, with Islay and Ruen holding their amulets out facing them. Yet there was no fear on Thea’s face. She had been the leader of the RFA for so long—she had known Clover’s now-deceased parents when they had worked in the Laments church. She was the heart of all this, even though Thea said that was now Clover’s role. Clover was the one who had figured out the amulet, the one who trained recruits, the one who now gave the humans hope. Even Kerrigan was no longer the face of the humans’ resistance movement.
“Islay, Ruen, stop,” Clover said before the two could pounce.
“You should listen to her,” Isa said.
Hadrian’s hand on her back was the warmth Clover needed to turn away from the drifters and the meeting she should have been in to the assassin holding Thea at knifepoint.
“It could have been you,” Isa said, her face unnaturally calm.
“It was you I noticed on the walk over,” Clover said.
“Yes.”
“You wanted me to know you were there.”
Isa said nothing, but that had to be the case. Isa could have killed her at any point. She was too well trained, and with the collar…
Clover had heard what the city called Bastian’s collared dog: The Phantom. The Bloody Knife. The Silent Death.
They didn’t know who she was. Not like Clover did. She had thought they’d had an alliance. Isa had saved Kivrin. And then she’d been caught by Bastian and collared. Assassinations had risen exponentially since that moment, and Clover understood why.
“You can break this,” Clover said. “That collar doesn’t control you.”
Isa cracked an almost smile. “Cute.” Her hands trembled as if the compulsion to slice Thea’s throat was too strong.
“You’re stronger than him,” Clover said. “You fought him once.”
“I have my orders,” Isa said flatly.
“To kill me?”
“To kill the leader of the resistance.”
“That’s me,” Thea said fiercely.
“No, it’s me,” Clover said. “You’ll have to kill me, Isa.”
Isa’s eyes met hers, and Clover saw that Isa already knew that.
“You could have killed me in the street.”
“I know.”
Clover took another step closer, her hand out. “You’re making a choice here. It means you can fight him.”
Isa tilted her head. “Death is all I am.”
Then she slid the blade against Thea’s neck and dropped the woman to the ground.
Clover yelled, blasting Isa backward with a thread of air like she’d seen Kerrigan do time and time again. Isa executed a backward roll. For a moment, Clover thought that Isa would come for her. After all, Thea was right—Clover was the target. That was why Isa had been stalking her.
And yet Isa blinked at the blood flowing out of Thea’s neck, took another look at Clover, and backed away. A flicker of hope seemed to cross her face. As if she had made her first choice in weeks. Then she disappeared into the night.