HERE IN THE FOYER, the Blood Guard stood out like red poppies in a meadow. Their uniforms were impossible to miss, even in the brightly dressed crowd. But not a single one was Gideon.
Maybe he’s not here tonight.
If Alex’s elder brother had indeed brought Seraphine in, he might still be processing her. Or possibly taking the rest of the night off.
Rune couldn’t stop herself from wondering if it was Gideon who’d ripped the dress off Seraphine and forced her to stand naked in the rain while he and his soldiers raked their eyes over her body, searching it for scars.
Her teeth clenched at the thought.
Gideon Sharpe.
She loathed him.
As Rune’s rage simmered like a red-hot coal, she moved skillfully through the crowd, presenting a smiling, happy face, commenting on new fashions and hairstyles, or the delightful dinners of the New Republic’s well-to-do that she’d attended last week, never lingering long, all while constantly looking for the next scarlet uniform.
She passed her usual marks: Blood Guard affiliates, daughters and sons of Tribunal members, people who not only were well connected, but enjoyed flaunting those connections and, in doing so, unwittingly giving information away. Their conversations droned in the air like bees drunk on pollen.
The chandeliers overhead lit the ceiling, which was painted with a blue- black sky full of stars—a rendering that had been allowed to remain untouched in the revolution’s aftermath. There were two salons on either side of the foyer and along the wall, behind the columns lining the room, were several small alcoves for more … illicit meetings.
Rune was headed toward the salon, where Blood Guard members often gathered, when a hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the crowd and into one of the shadowed alcoves.
Spinning to face her assailant she found golden-brown eyes peering at her from beneath tawny brows.
The tension bled out of her. It was only Alex.
“Rune.” His fingertips pressed against the sensitive skin of her wrist as he drew her deeper into the darkness. “You look like you’re prepared to walk into hell itself.”
Rune had the sudden urge to rest here with him awhile, where it was safe, before throwing herself back into danger.
“What happened tonight?” he asked.
Rune shook off the urge, remembering her mission.
“Did you hear Noah? Your brother happened tonight,” she said, annoyed at the thought. “Gideon got to Seraphine before I did.”
Alex frowned. “So you—”
A chorus of voices—one of them Laila Creed’s—echoed nearby. On instinct, Rune drew Alex deeper into the shadows, until they were nearly chest to chest. She wasn’t worried about someone seeing them in here together. They’d simply assume it was exactly what Verity had pretended to accuse Rune of having earlier: a tryst.
What she worried about was being overheard.
They both fell silent, waiting for the voices to pass. The tip of Rune’s nose was less than an inch from Alex’s chin, and the smell of him—like leather and oak—filled the air. The small space seemed to shrink around them, and for a moment, Rune remembered the night she turned Nan in. Alex had raced to Wintersea, then held her through the night while she wept.
“You worry me,” he whispered, close to her ear.
His voice was careful, soft. As if Rune were made of glass and he needed to handle her with caution.
“You spend your days looking out for everyone else, but who’s looking out for you?”
“You’re looking out for me,” she whispered to his double-breasted lapel. “Not to mention Verity. And Lady.”
“Lady is a horse,” he countered. “And Verity throws herself into as much danger as you do.”
He seemed about to say something else when the bells signaling the end of intermission chimed throughout the foyer. Rune stepped away from his familiar, steady frame and glanced out of the alcove. A column blocked most of her view, but she could see Laila’s black hair, braided into that fashionable crown, heading toward the doors of the auditorium. The drone of conversation was already dwindling. In a few minutes, the foyer would be empty and silent.
And Rune had yet to find Gideon.
She refused to let tonight be a waste. She needed Seraphine’s whereabouts.
“Is your brother here?” she whispered, scanning the emptying foyer like a hawk searching for the plumpest field mouse.
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him all week. Why?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Alex knew the thoughts in her head.
“Rune, no. My brother is a danger.” He gently gripped her bare shoulder, turning her to face him. “To you especially.”
“Your brother is a danger to every witch in the New Republic.” She tugged herself free of his hand. “Seraphine especially. If I don’t find out where he’s put her …”
Didn’t he understand? She didn’t know where Seraphine was or when they planned to transfer her. For all Rune knew, she might already be en route to the palace prison. And if she was …
I’ll never get her out. They’ll kill her like they killed Nan.
Once the Blood Guard brought a witch inside the prison, Rune couldn’t save them. The prison was impregnable.
And if I don’t save her, I’ll fail to do the last thing Nan asked of me.
It was unacceptable. “Rune.”
“What other choice do I have?” she said, coming back to him. “You won’t do it.”
As loyal as Alex was to the Crimson Moth, to her, he drew a line at his brother. Under no circumstances would he ever manipulate Gideon the way he, Rune, and Verity manipulated the rest of their peers. Rune had asked him once, and watched his bright gold eyes dim. His uncharacteristically sharp answer—Absolutely not.—stopped her from asking again.
Rune knew Alex had helped kill the youngest Sister Queen, Cressida Roseblood. He never spoke of it, except to say that he had done it for Gideon. At which point, he turned the conversation to other things. Rune didn’t know what that meant. Had Gideon asked him to kill Cressida? Had he forced him to? Or had Alex done it to save his brother, somehow? The latter, if true, struck Rune as odd, since Gideon was the violent one; a natural predator. Unlike his brother, Alex was warm and kind and scorned the killing of witches. Not to mention, he was devoutly loyal to Rune.
The problem was, he was equally loyal to Gideon. Sometimes Rune suspected he was more loyal. But for some strange reason, it didn’t make her trust him less. She knew, in her heart, Alex would never betray her.
He would just never betray his brother, either. Which often put them at odds with each other.
Once, Rune might have understood Alex’s devotion to his brother. Years before the revolution, Rune had wanted to earn Gideon’s approval. Alex was her closest friend back then, and though Rune hadn’t met Gideon yet, she’d heard stories about him. Biased stories, she now knew, told by Alex. Who worshiped his older brother.
Young, naive Rune had believed the stories. And the more of them Alex told her, the more she felt like she knew Gideon. She soon developed what some might call a crush. It was important, therefore, that she make a good impression the first time they met.
In retrospect, the whole thing was childish and absurd.
When they did meet, Rune was thirteen and Gideon fifteen. He not only refused to shake her hand, he outright insulted the outfit she was wearing: a dress she’d selected for the sole aim of impressing him. When Alex asked Gideon to apologize, he refused.
Alex’s stories were wrong. So wrong. She learned that day it was the one thing he couldn’t be relied upon for: accurate judgment of his brother.
Gideon was a beast of a boy, and Rune never cared to win his esteem again.
“I’ll cast an illusion,” she told Alex now, her fingers tapping the corked vial of blood concealed in her dress. Blood she’d collected from last month’s bleeding. “He won’t know it’s me.”
Except Rune only had one full vial left after this one. Once it was gone, she would have nothing until the start of her next monthly cycle. And she needed as much blood as possible to save Seraphine.
Alex shook his head. “He’ll smell the magic on you. Gideon’s not one of your moony-eyed suitors, Rune. He’s—”
“So I’ll invite him to my after-party.” Where she would keep his cup full of enchanted wine and probe him with innocent questions that would lead to the answers she needed.
“He hates parties.”
Rune threw up her hands and hissed: “Then I’ll think of something else!”
She turned her back on Alex and was about to walk away when his strained voice said, “I’m sick of watching you walk into danger.”
She paused, sighing as she stared out into the empty foyer. “Then don’t watch.”
Rune didn’t wait for him to respond. She stepped out of the alcove— And straight into a Blood Guard uniform.
