House of Pounding Hearts (The Kingdom of Crows #2)(52)

Riccio forks another meatball and holds it in front of his lips. “If I’d been held in a dungeon by a Faerie, I’d have had way more beef with the Fae than with the Shabbins.” He stuffs the meatball into his mouth and chews twice before swallowing it and spearing another.

Mattia snatches the platter before he can do away with all of them. As he spoons some onto his plate, then Syb’s, he asks, “Why keep the sigil fresh all these years? Wouldn’t it have been more pleasant to face her people than to be stuck in Faerie jail?”

“The wards she created with Costa Regio are the only thing keeping Shabbins from coming after her and ending her life.” Imogen’s nails lengthen to iron talons that clink against the armored breastplate of her fighting fatigues as she clutches her thick braid and tosses it over her shoulder.

“Meriam will not rest until she finds a way to undo us.” Lore’s voice crackles through the tense air.

“Us?” Syb asks.

“The Crows.” Lorcan stops toying with his knife and leans back into his chair.

“But you cannot be killed, only immobilized, right?” Syb seizes the jug of wine and fills her cup, then Mattia’s, then leans past him to fill mine.

She probably thinks a buzz will help me digest the news that my grandmother’s alive and surely hunting both me and Lore.

I reach for the glass, but Lorcan snatches it from me, then takes a sip.

You could’ve asked and I’d have poured you wine, Your Highness. You needn’t steal my cup.

I’ve no desire to drink or eat Faerie food.

Then—my eyebrows bend—why did you take my glass?

All your food and wine will be tasted as long as you reside outside of the Sky Kingdom. Didn’t Aoife mention it?

She did. As he sets the cup back next to my plate, I ask, Should you really be the one to test for poison?

Poison cannot kill me, Behach ?an.

What if someone grinds obsidian into your drink?

My body evacuates it.

The fact that he uses the present tense is alarming. You’ve already been poisoned?

“Fallon can break my obsidian curse.”

I startle that Lorcan reveals this to the others. Shouldn’t that sort of information be kept supersecret?

I thought you trusted your friends.

I do, but you don’t, so why did you tell them?

“Oh my Gods, Fal!” Syb’s pitch is so high it almost tears a hole inside my eardrums. “You must leave immediately!”

My pulse swells, creating a cacophony beneath my ribs. I cannot leave for I need to find—I shut down my intent before it can penetrate Lorcan’s mind.

“I agree,” Gia says. “Once Meriam’s arrested—or killed—”

“Except that this is why Fallon is here.” Lorcan drums his fingers. “She wants Meriam to find her.”

Syb gasps. “Is that true?”

“Do you have a death wish?” Gia hisses.

Antoni bangs a fist against the table. “Why would you let her out of your kingdom knowing she planned on acting like a fucking lure, Mórrgaht?”

Lorcan’s leathers creak as he shifts in his seat. “Same reason you told her where to find the stairs I allowed Cian to build for his non-Crow mate.”

I suck in a breath, then swallow so hard my saliva jams in my throat. You read his note?!

I read your mind, not his note.

That was private.

So was the existence of that staircase—which I’m having demolished. The same way I should have him—

Don’t you dare finish that sentence. I grit my teeth. You sit here, in part, thanks to him.

I sit here thanks to you.

I snort. If I’d known who I was bringing back—

“Why does Fallon look as red as the meatballs?” Mattia asks Syb under his breath.

“Because her malefic grandmother is on the lam,” Syb whispers back.

Lore strokes a taloned fingernail down the embroidered tablecloth, shearing the expensive linen like he’s sheared the last scrap of my affection and appreciation.

The second Meriam finds me, I will have her paint me in her blood so you can never again enter my mind. My chair legs squeal as I push away from the table and storm out of the living area.

Dead witches cannot cast spells. His voice echoes between my thrumming temples just as I reach my bedroom door.

After I slap it shut, I yell through the bond, Immobilized Crows cannot murder witches.

Are you threatening to stake me, Behach ?an?

Better keep your distance.

Although he neither answers nor shows up in my bedroom, I can somehow feel him smile through the mind link. I doubt he will smile when I head to the harbor market and procure myself an obsidian blade at first light.

I flop into bed, believing that sleep will elude me, what with a churning mind and an empty stomach, but sleep comes and closes over me like a wave. At some point, I wake to find Sybille lying beside me, hands laced over her middle, fingers drumming the stained fabric of her pretty teal dress.

I pluck a lock of hair off my sweaty nape. “How long have you been here?”

No light spills around the edges of the curtains, but the material is so thick, it could be midmorning, and I’d be none the wiser.

As I rub the sleep from my gritty eyes, Syb turns her head and slides her lips together. “All night.”