GIDEON
GIDEON COULDN’T HELP BUT notice how different Rune’s spell was from Cressida’s and Ava’s. The latter had used powerful binding spells, meant to force and humiliate him. But Rune’s was so subtle, he barely sensed it.
It didn’t control him, nor did it control others. It seemed to merely suggest that people turn away from him, look past him, or ignore him altogether. It was almost … gentle.
“You’ll find the stable entrance in the east wing of Larkmont,” said Rune. For some reason, he could still see her. Why the spell didn’t affect him, he wasn’t sure. “My horse is the chestnut mare. Take her and get far away from here.”
He sensed the wrongness in her voice, which was strung tight as a bow. “Where will you go?”
“I need to be in Soren’s bedroom,” she said. “Preferably before Cressida gets there. But the door is locked, and four of Soren’s men are standing guard, so I can’t get back in. If she finds me missing…”
She’ll know Rune helped him.
Why did she help me?
He recalled her words in the closet.
I’m doing this for Alex, not you. He’d never forgive me if I let her hurt you.
Right. Alex.
The one who would have been Rune’s husband by now, if Cressida hadn’t shot him. Alex’s ring was on her finger, making one thing perfectly clear:
She’s still in love with my brother.
Why else would she save Gideon—a man who’d tried to kill her tonight?
“How did you escape the bedroom?” he asked, to distract himself from this fact.
“I dropped from the balcony.” “Can you climb back up?”
She shook her head, her pace quickening as she turned a corner. The marble statues lining this hall seemed to watch them as they passed, unaffected by Rune’s spell.
“The walls are sheer stone.” She glanced at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure something out. Just get out of Larkmont before Cressida thinks to use a counterspell that will overpower mine.”
“Can she do that?” Rune didn’t answer.
Gideon blew out a breath. Raked a hand through his hair. Every moment he lingered here increased his chances of being caught again. But Rune had risked herself for him and was about to suffer the consequences. He couldn’t just leave her.
“Is the balcony low enough for me to lift you?”
Her footsteps slowed momentarily. “I … don’t know.”
Gideon would help her—only this once—for Alex. And then he’d get himself to safety, where he would regroup.
This was only a temporary setback. “Show me.”
 |
RUNE LED HIM TO a garden at the heart of Soren’s palace. The evening was humid and warm, and the crickets hummed a low, insistent chorus. Stone walls enclosed the garden’s four sides, and balconies protruded from the second level.
Gideon guessed these were Soren’s private quarters. “Which one is it?”
Standing in a patch of yellow dahlias, Rune pointed to the balcony overhead. Lamplight flooded out, drenching her in a warm glow. In that golden dress—which Gideon had to remind himself he despised—she looked like a burning flame.
He suddenly noticed her swollen lips.
Gideon frowned. Were they swollen when he first cornered her in the powder room?
No. He’d been so close to her, it would have been impossible not to notice.
Worse than her lips were the bruises on her neck. They weren’t bruises from Gideon’s hands. These were from a mouth.
Soren’s mouth.
Gideon’s jaw clenched. He glanced from her to the prince’s balcony overhead. “Do you stay in his bedroom often?”
Rune studied the same balcony. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”
She was right. He couldn’t care less whose bed she kept warm at night. Gideon was here to pay back a debt, nothing more. If he were delivering her straight into another man’s arms, so be it.
She meant nothing to him.
Just as he meant nothing to her.
So why couldn’t he keep his stupid mouth shut?
“You’ve outdone yourself this time. Seducing a prince.” Rune ignored him.
“As his wife, you’ll have fancier balls, fancier friends, and fancier wardrobes than you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Jealous?” said Rune, studying the walls. “If you wanted to marry me, Gideon, you should have said so.”
Gideon heard the taunt in her voice. As if she’d stoop so low.
“Marry you?” he said, playing along. “The girl who plans to help Cressida resurrect her sisters and reinstate a Reign of Witches? No, thank you.”
Rune’s gaze shot to his face. “What?”
“Cressida told me all about it: she intends to raise Analise and Elowyn from the dead. It will be everything you witches want: psychotic murderers back in charge.”
“Last time I checked, the psychotic murderers were in charge.” Rune turned toward him, frowning hard. “Are you saying Cressida told you she’s planning a resurrection?”
She seemed genuinely surprised. But Gideon knew Rune to be an expert liar.
“Are you denying any knowledge of it?” He studied her, trying to determine the truth.
“This is the first I’ve heard of it.” She continued scanning the walls. “Anyway, it’s not possible. Resurrection spells require an exchange of life for life. The life of a family member must be taken to give life back to the dead. Cressida has no family left. She’s the last living Roseblood.”
“She seems to think otherwise.”
“Then she’s mad,” said Rune, wading deeper into the dahlias beneath Soren’s balcony. Apparently finished with this conversation. “Or she was trying to torment you.”
Maybe.
They were running out of time, so Gideon kept his doubts to himself. He scanned the walls, searching for a way up. But she was right: the stones were perfectly smooth. There was nothing to climb.
The balcony, however, was low enough for him to lift her.
He strode over to where she stood in the flowers. Crouching, he cupped his hands and held them out.
“Hold on to me.”
Rune studied him, as if deciding whether she trusted him to lift her. But soon enough, her hands came down on his shoulders, gripping firmly. Gideon cupped her calf through the silk of her dress, guiding her foot into his waiting palm.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” she said, as he rose. “If our paths cross again, I won’t show you mercy a second time.”
Rune’s grip tightened on him as she lost, then regained, her balance.
“Good,” he said, pushing her higher, muscles straining beneath her weight. “Because the next time my gun is to your head, I will pull the trigger.”
“Perfect,” she said, stepping onto his shoulders as she reached for the balcony overhead. “I’m glad we understand each other.”
She made a little sound, like a grunt, and the weight of her eased from his shoulders. She’d grabbed hold of an iron bar holding up the balcony’s balustrade and was using it to haul herself up.
And then she was gone.
Gideon backed away in time to see the balcony doors close and the lamplight disappear, leaving him alone with the crickets and the dahlias.
What did I deliver her into?
It was none of his business. If Rune had wanted to make a different choice, she would have.
Gideon needed to stop feeling. They were at war—or soon would be. Gideon couldn’t be flesh and blood; he needed to be gunpowder and steel. Impenetrable. Unyielding.
Turning his back on the doors she’d disappeared through, Gideon strode out of the gardens, and then out of Larkmont.
