Strike at Midnight(62)

“If you don’t tell us what you know, I will fucking drain you dry of every breath right now,” I said through gritted teeth, and then I felt a pair of arms around my own waist trying to pull me off. I didn’t know who they belonged to, and I didn’t care. I just kept seeing her attack the man who—who I don’t know what—and I wanted to kill the silly bitch.

“Rella.” I heard the coaxing tone of the prince, and I realized he was the one holding me and whispering in my ear. My body responded to him without a second thought, and it was because of the traitorous closeness of him that I let the woman go. “That’s it,” he said, rubbing my arms up and down. I couldn’t think straight. All I could feel was the hardness of his chest behind me and the willingness of my body as it leaned back to be closer to his.

“Come on, Rella,” he said quietly, and he pulled me back with him as the woman took in sharp breaths to grab at the air I had tried to take from her.

Mia was grinning as she watched me be coaxed out of the cell, and I made a mental reminder to tell her to piss off later. This was all too much.

“We have some questions for you,” Sir Raymond said to the woman as he closed the cell door. The guard came back over to lock it and Sir Raymond said thanks and ushered the man back to his post. “I suggest you answer, or you will be cast the worst of judgments by permission of the prince. Are we clear?”

She nodded and rubbed at her throat.

Prince Andrew was still holding me, rubbing my arm in a comforting way, and I wished I could say the touch was comforting. But it wasn’t. It was burning me alive.

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman, taking a step away from the prince. I needed to keep my distance from him. I had almost strangled a woman because she had spat at him. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Helena Heartworthy,” she said, daring to look up at me now that there were bars back between us. “Happy?”

“Stoked,” I replied, but I made a point of stepping closer. I couldn’t help but be glad when she flinched, and that made me feel even worse. “How did you know the duke?”

“We were lovers,” she replied, her eyes filled with venom. “Until the son of a bitch told me that he didn’t want to marry me. He had led me a merry dance and he didn’t realize he had messed with the wrong person.”

“So what?” I asked. “You decided to find someone to make you look like him? To have him kidnapped? What?”

She glared at me and I glared right back.

“It wasn’t like that,” she said eventually. “I was approached by someone when I was coming out of a potion shop in Lower City. He offered me the deal. For a price.”

It was like pulling blood out of a stone.

“Who approached you? What was his name?”

“I don’t know his name,” she snapped. “He was a bit older than me. Dark hair with a black beard sheared close to his face. He had a gold tooth and wore a decrepit black hat. He said I could have my vengeance in another way, by taking over the duke’s identity and ruining his life.”

“Why were you at the potion shop?” Sir Raymond asked, and she cast an evil grin in his direction.

“There is a potion that renders the person impotent if served too often,” she said, “so I planned to give it to him.” She looked back at me. “If I couldn’t have his heirs, then no one could.”

“Are you for real?” I asked, thinking about the duke’s well-being at the hands of this monster. My own hands itched to be around her neck again, and I clenched my fists to suppress the urge. Where this rage was coming from I didn’t know, and I forced myself to take deep and steady breaths like Jacque had taught me.

In my job as a hunter, I always had to be on guard for a fight, and I always needed to ensure I was on the right side of a sword. But I rarely took pleasure in anyone’s pain. Okay, maybe sometimes I did—call me twisted—but I had never lost control like that before, and it had completely thrown me.

“Where is the duke?” Prince Andrew asked, and I swore it was because he knew I was close to pouncing again.

“He’s not dead if that’s what you’re thinking,” she replied, and she licked her lips in his direction. Anger welled in my chest at the cheek of the bitch, but before I could react, the prince came behind me and put his hands on my waist to hold me in place. Oh boy.

“How do you know that?” the prince asked Helena, and this time I stayed close to him. His touch was driving me insane, but at least it was also grounding me from doing other things right about now.

“Because that wasn’t part of the deal,” she said. “I took over his appearance, his holdings, and his life to ruin his reputation. Once I had done so, I would change back and he would go back to his life. Or at least try.”

“Where are they holding him?” I asked this time—anything to get her attention off the prince—and she looked at me with a playful glint in her eyes.

“I don’t know. I just had to meet them on the edge of the Nightmare Woods with the payment and he handed me a potion.”

“How much?”

“Ten gold coins. A bargain, if you ask me.”

“Did the potion change all of you?” I asked, thinking of how I had almost come upon her giving Lady Stanley a poke back at the ball. She got my meaning straight away and a big smirk spread across her face.