A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(65)

The man did his share of damage in return. Farrell tasted the copper tang of his own blood. Lucas got an angry cut over his left eyebrow when he was slammed into the wall.

Finally, the man dropped to his knees, his face as bloody as the Firebird drug dealer’s had been.

Farrell saw the flash of metal: Instead of the syringe-ring, Lucas now brandished a knife.

“He’s too dangerous to take in, even unconscious,” he said. “He’ll never last three months till the next meeting, but we can’t leave him out on the streets preying on the innocent.”

“You’re just a kid,” the rapist muttered, his black gaze fixed on the weapon. “You have no idea what you’re doing, playing with shiny things like that.”

“Don’t I?” Lucas moved behind the man and gripped his forehead. “I find you guilty and I sentence you to death.”

He sliced the blade across the man’s throat. Blood spurted from the gaping wound.

The man clutched his neck, his eyes wide and staring, before he fell face-first onto the pavement.

Farrell just stood there, stunned, as he watched the puddle of crimson grow. “You killed him.”

“Damn right I did. One less evil piece of garbage to deal with in the future.” Lucas flicked a look at Farrell as he wiped the blade off on a handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket. “You got a problem with that?”

The man was dead and the blood still flowed. No shiver of magic, no gratifying feeling that the society was working as one united force against evil. This was just Lucas, Farrell, a knife, and someone deserving death.

So much blood. The sight filled Farrell with a cool satisfaction.

A smile curled up the side of his mouth. “Nope. No problem at all.”

“Good.”

He’d accepted the society executions as a necessary evil, but he’d never before been excited by the sight of death. To hold another person’s life in one’s hands, to control his fate . . . now that was ultimate power.

Farrell craved more.

“Saving the world,” he said, finding that his mind was every bit as clear as his conscience. “One day at a time.”





Chapter 18


MADDOX



They walked northeast from the goddess’s palace for hours until they reached a thick forest. Their path through the forest narrowed, and the canopy of leaves and branches became as thick above their heads as it had been in Valoria’s throne room. The air smelled fresh here, scented by evergreens and flowering trees. As they silently walked, focusing on their footsteps, the forest came alive with the songs of birds and the buzz of insects.

“I’ll admit it,” Becca said. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It certainly can be,” Maddox replied.

“Do you have seasons here?” she asked. “At home, we just got through winter. It was an extra cold one with tons of snow.”

“I’ve heard of kingdoms that experience changing climates. Mytica isn’t like that. This is how it is all the time. We have rain and thunderstorms, of course, and it can get cooler at night. But it’s always warm during the day.” He gazed around at the trees. “I can’t imagine this kingdom covered in snow and ice.”

“Lucky you,” she mused.

“I don’t know. I think it would be nice to experience something different. So maybe you’re the lucky one.”

“Maybe,” she allowed.

“We’re going to stop for a rest here,” Barnabas announced as the forest thinned out to reveal the edge of a small lake about fifty paces away, its surface like glass reflecting the blue sky. He put his weapons down on the grassy ground. “Our destination is still a day’s journey from here, so I do want to keep going while there’s still light. We’ll stop again at dusk and make camp.”

Becca still looked fresh and lovely despite having kept pace with them all day. Perhaps as a spirit she didn’t experience fatigue like Maddox did. He knew he must be a sight—a sweaty, disgusting mess.

Barnabas began to remove his filthy trousers.

“Um, why is he taking his clothes off?” Becca asked.

“Barnabas, what are you doing?” Maddox asked as the man’s pants hit the ground. Becca turned her back to the scene, her expression turning squeamish.

Barnabas glanced at Maddox. “I’m going to take a bath. The first one I’ve had in, well, by the smell of me, far too long.”

Off came the shirt.

“A bath,” Maddox repeated.

“Yes. A long one.” He nodded. “And I’ll wash my clothes as best I can, too. I suggest you do the same. A couple of days in the dungeon doesn’t do anyone any good.”

Without another word, he wadded up his clothing into a ball and walked toward the lake, completely nude.

“Be careful of lake monsters!” Maddox called after him. Barnabas replied with a laugh.

Becca cringed. “There are lake monsters?”

He wondered if there were lake monsters in her world. He shot her a grin. “They’re just a legend.”

“Lots of legends around here, aren’t there?” She swept her gaze over him and bit her bottom lip. “Are you going to have a bath now, too?”

“I can’t argue that it’s not an excellent idea.”