The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(184)

“The Princess is not in her quarters,” a third repeated.

Catra swallowed hard. They still had not put their weapons away.

“Did you not hear that I have gone looking for her in the forest? She has been dressing as a maid. She could easily have gone out this way for a nocturnal stroll.”

With subtle movements, s’Ex reached behind his back, his hand finding a flap in his robing and ducking inside. When he casually retracted his arm, the biggest serrated knife she had ever seen emerged with it.

And yet his voice continued calmly. “She has no food, no shelter, no weapons, and she is not capable of existing on her own. Where exactly do you think she would go? It is far more likely that she is within the Territory, or even in the palace itself.”

“They said you helped her escape.”

“Who says?”

“AnsLai.”

Ah, yes, the high priest that was her mother’s other right hand.

Could this be an attempted coup against the executioner?

“Who exactly do you think ordered me to go look for the Princess?” s’Ex asked. “Or are you telling me that the Queen’s command is not as powerful as a priest’s? Is that what you would like me to carry back to your ruler? Because I will, along with your dead bodies.”

Instantly, everything changed, the situation defused, the guards resheathing their weapons, s’Ex tucking his blade into the folds of his robe at his thigh.

A moment later, he was inside the walls.

Standing alone in the darkness, Catra wrapped her arms about herself and shivered. As the cold night enveloped her, and the enormity of what was happening sank in, all she heard was iAm’s voice in her head:

My brother just lost his shellan.

She died in front of him, and he spent most of the day and some of the night preparing her body for a goddamn funeral pyre.

Then he got to watch her burn until there was nothing left but ashes on the cold ground.

And I just learned that your mother is prepared to attack the only people who have ever tried to take care of me and Trez if he isn’t delivered on her doorstep tomorrow at midnight.

For so long she had been in the shadows, a peripheral player to the true power of her people. As the heir to the throne, she was supposed to have no present influence.

That time had passed.

She had always respected the traditional ways. But having experienced heartbreak and loss personally? She couldn’t let this continue.

iAm’s hurt and anger had transformed her in a meaningful way. She had injured him, compromised him, lied to him. He was right; she had been selfish.

There had to be a way to stop all this. Stop the war. Allow Trez and iAm to be free. Let herself be …

Well, if not free, then at least not a poison that infected others and ruined their lives—all because of some astrological record that didn’t for one moment take into account personal choice, personal emotions, personal lives.

Walking off in the direction s’Ex had told her to go, she tried to be silent and stick to the thickest parts of the forest.

She wasn’t sure exactly where the hidden panel was.

And had no idea what she was going to do if s’Ex didn’t show up. Or … if he had a change of heart and, either through self-interest or self-survival, turned her over to her mother.

But after a lifetime of being proper, she was going down fighting.





SEVENTY-SIX


There were plans to be made.

As iAm took form in the back parking lot of Sal’s Restaurant, he was all about the parachute. Checking his watch, he took note of the time—he had about twelve hours to get everything arranged before he and Trez could leave. Tickets he would get online. The SUV was already gassed up. Banks and lawyers opened at nine—although he’d been keeping things in good order on those fronts so he was going to be able to get seriously liquid very fast.

Xhex could take over shAdoWs and The Iron Mask if she wanted. If she didn’t, they could leave those to Big Rob and Silent Tom. God knew those two bastards were co-owners by virtue of sweat equity alone. And Sal’s?

Well, that was going to go to his head chef, Antonio diSenza. The guy was on the ball, good with the front of the house and the back. And he would treat the rest of the staff well.

All those transfers were what the lawyers were going to be for. At least he’d been smart enough to get Trez’s power of attorney years ago, so he was going to be able to sign over everything without having to bother the guy.

And as for Trez himself?

The male was sound asleep; the text from Fritz had come through about ten minutes ago. The plan was to let the poor bastard rest for as long as possible. Then tell him they were going on a trip around the world.

If the way Trez had been in that bedroom of his was any indication? He wasn’t going to put up much fight. He’d been so out-of-it, iAm could have done open-heart surgery on him without putting him on a bypass machine.

Sooner or later that bubble of exhaustion and shock was going to wear off, and there was going to be some hard-core shit on the other side for sure. But they could cross that divide when they got there: First order of business was to secure the path out of Caldwell. Second was to get Trez moving. Third was to stay ghost.

As for the Brothers and the King? He was going to sign off to them all via text and leave his phone behind.

The Shadows could read minds if the situation called for it. If he left no trace and no way of being contacted? Then when Wrath told s’Ex or AnsLai or whomever from the s’Hisbe that he didn’t know where they were and didn’t help them escape? The truth was going to be verifiable and obvious.