The Twice-Scorned Lady of Shadow (The Guild Codex: Unveiled #3)(3)

Everything outside of this moment vanished from my head, and I kissed her harder, my fingers digging into her cheek. A small, startled noise escaped her.

Zak.

Grenior’s deep growl cut through my head, and I pulled back. The girl’s blue-gray eyes rose to mine—heated and dazed and questioning. Her tongue ran across her lower lip.

“I have to go,” I said reluctantly.

She glanced toward the building, where the rumble of conversation had gone quiet, then nodded.

I slid my hand from her cheek. My fingers had left pink imprints on her fair skin, and I felt a flicker of guilt. I should’ve been gentler.

“Next time.” I pushed to my feet and pulled up my hood. “I’ll bring the poison.”

At the reminder of our plan, the flush in her cheeks drained away. But she didn’t look scared as she nodded and promised, “I’ll have my artifact.”

I hesitated, unsure what to say. We’d never bothered with goodbyes before, so I turned and walked away. I could feel her watching me.

Grenior’s silent voice beckoned me into the next alley. The huge black wolf appeared at the end, a distant silhouette, then slunk out of sight. Gravel crunched under a heavy boot, and I turned.

Bane strode into the alley I’d just entered. The distant streetlamps gleamed off his shaved head, a contrast to his thick black beard. His dark, deep-set eyes cut dismissively across me, cruel and confident, and his leather coat swept out with his long steps. The closer he came, the smaller his powerful bulk made me feel.

As he passed me, I fell into step behind him. I wasn’t worthy to walk beside him, and he never let me forget it.

“Nu i kak vse proshlo?” I asked. He preferred his mother tongue, and when my master preferred something, I had no choice but to prefer it too.

“It went well,” he answered in Russian. His deep growl of a voice held a mocking note as he patted the front of his coat where he probably had something small, expensive, and deadly hidden in an inner pocket. “And if you’re lucky, Zaharia, you’ll never learn what these do.”

I didn’t react to the veiled threat. I hadn’t expected him to reveal what he’d bought, but if he thought I was interested in his purchases—and how I might use them against him—then he wouldn’t be looking for signs of my real plan.

He knew I would kill him someday, but he didn’t think I was ready yet.

I didn’t think I was ready either.

But I couldn’t wait any longer.





CHAPTER TWO





“Welcome to the Crow and Hammer, Miss Orien.”

The man on the other side of the desk extended his hand to me, and I reluctantly stretched mine out. He grasped my hand with strong, warm fingers.

“Darius King,” he introduced himself in a deep, pleasant voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He was a handsome man in his early fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, a short beard, and a charming, roguish air—and he was triggering all kinds of warning bells. My instincts whispered that he was dangerous, and they were usually right.

My gaze flicked sideways, leaving the older man for only a second to glance at the younger man in the office with us.

Agent Kit Morris was smiling, but there was a slight difference in his body language compared to when we’d first walked into the guild. He wasn’t tense or nervous, but he was more alert. Attentive. Focused on the man shaking my hand.

I pulled my fingers free, my cold stare boring into the man’s clear gray eyes.

“Saber,” Morris whispered. “Stop glaring at your new guild master.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t stop glaring either. Better not to show weakness in front of the man about to take control of my life.

Darius sank into his chair. “Have a seat, Miss Orien, Agent Morris.”

I lowered myself onto the edge of a cushioned chair. Under my jacket, I felt a small tug as Ríkr, in the form of a ferret, adjusted his grip on my shirt.

Morris took the seat beside me. “Saber is a bit prickly,” he said as though I wasn’t two feet away and listening to every word, “but she’s like a lovable cactus. She’ll only stab you if you try to hug her.”

Darius steepled his fingers together, his wrists resting on his desk. “Prickly is nothing new at this guild. How much do you know about the Crow and Hammer, Miss Orien?”

“The name,” I said baldly. “There’s a pub downstairs. And this is a shit part of town.”

“Loveable cactus,” Morris stage-whispered to Darius as though trying to convince him.

Darius’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “This location suits our membership quite well. Agent Morris thinks it will suit you, too.”

“Because I’m an ex-con?”

“Because you’re unimpressed by authority.”

How observant of him. I bared my teeth in a smile. “I don’t like playing by other people’s rules. They always fuck me over.”

Morris sighed heavily.

Darius studied me, and I glared back, waiting for his reaction. Waiting to see what kind of guild master he was—and what my next move would be. Would he lash out in anger? Put me in my place? Intimidate me into submissiveness?

“I understand your aversion to rules,” he finally said, “but you’ll need to follow several to be a member of my guild. Given the potentially deadly magic of a druid, my priority is the safety of my guildeds.”