Zabriel pulled a coin from his pocket and played with it in his hand, slipping it between and around his fingers, making it appear and disappear. While he maneuvered the coin, he answered my questions.

"I stole a blank piece of paper, no more than a note, really-it folded up nice and small."

"Why would you steal a blank piece of paper?"

"Because it was locked inside a box. Anything locked inside a box is important to someone."

Tired of watching him twirl the coin around his fingers, I grabbed it from his hand. "So how did you get it out of Luka's office?"

He pointed at the coin and grinned. "Sleight of hand, Anya. And sleight of hair."

He took the coin from me, once more making it dance around his fingers, then with a grin, deposited it on top of his head, hidden in his hair.

"That's the one place I wasn't searched. Farrier got close-he searched my mouth."

I laughed, then laughed some more, picturing how thorough the Constable would have been in patting down Zabriel. As I tried to check my outburst, my cousin glanced up at the moon.

"Let's keep moving. Not only isn't the Captain the most reasonable sort-he's also not the most patient. We don't want to keep him waiting."

We started off again, and Zabriel returned to the topic at hand.

"About the island. I've been giving it a lot of thought, and everything we found there, along with everything else we know, leads me to one and only one conclusion." He hesitated, his voice troubled, and fear coursed through my veins to set up a pounding in my temples. I knew what he was about to say, that he was going to confirm the conclusions I had reached but didn't want to accept. "Think about it, Anya-the Fae abductions, the capture and abuse of the Sepulchres, the experiments we discovered, the attempt to infuse magic into objects and graft Faerie wings onto a human, the secrecy surrounding everything-it all adds up to one thing. Someone with a lot of power, someone who can use government resources and break the law with impunity, someone who a.s.suredly hates the Fae with a pa.s.sion is trying to figure out a way to enable humans to cross the b.l.o.o.d.y Road." His statements hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, I couldn't catch my breath. "And that means-"

"Our realm is in danger. It works out the same way in my head, too. But who could it be? And how close are they to succeeding?"

Zabriel shook his head. "I don't know. That's why we can't trust anyone right now-not even our own people, with very few exceptions. Don't forget, there are Fae who would like nothing better than to start another war with the humans and could therefore be involved in this."

We turned another corner and caught sight of the bridge, shining white in the moonlight. In the middle of the bridge, spread out along both sides of the railing, were a dozen or more men.

"That'll be Fane," Zabriel said, excitement rising in his voice. "He's always expecting a fight. And the openness of the bridge means no one can sneak up on him." He laid a hand on my arm. "Look, Anya, we're smart and resourceful, you perhaps more so than me. So we'll get to the bottom of this scheme and shut it down. But right now we should solve a problem that's more manageable. Are you ready to tell Fane whatever he needs to hear to get him to leave Shea alone?"

"You know I am. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

He nodded and glanced around. Satisfied we weren't under watch, he jogged to the near end of the marble bridge, then strode out to meet the Captain. I followed, skeptically examining the group of men Fane had with him-their expressions were menacing, their clothing was roughly made, and the scars on their faces and arms were almost as plentiful as the knives and pistols they carried.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned," Fane greeted my cousin. He was taller and more thickly built than Zabriel, his bearing that of a man in charge, and though the weather had warmed since we'd last been together, and we were nowhere near the sea, he wore his signature knee-length bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned coat, his impressive hat framing his rugged features. "Is that you, boy, or am I seeing a ghost?"

"I'm flesh and blood, Captain," Zabriel responded with a grin.

"Gwyneth told me, but I thought she was just spinning a tale-wanting to get Shea out of the fire. You've got some explaining to do, lad." He reached up to muss Zabriel's hair. "They've sure turned you into a dandy."

"I know, and I'll explain everything. But first about Shea-I'm not dead, so there's no need for the revenge you seek. I'd like you to leave her alone."

Fane squinted at Zabriel, though his blue eye seemed to be examining me while his brown was fixed on my cousin. "The fact you're alive doesn't change the betrayal she dealt. But I'll think on your request."

"Please, Captain," I interjected, gritting my teeth around the words, not wanting our efforts to get here to be in vain. "I feel the same. Shea had reasons for what she did, and since Zabriel is alive and well, I don't want her to come to harm, either."

He considered me, and a grin softened his weathered face. "All right, seeing you both has put me in a forgiving mood." Turning to his men, he loudly shouted, "Pyrite's back, boys. Let's find a pub and do a little celebra-"

A gunshot rang out, and a bullet hit the marble railing of the bridge, sending a chip flying. Fane's crew closed ranks, uncertain from where the danger had come; then black-clothed men flowed over the side of the bridge from their hiding places beneath it.

Fane immediately grabbed Zabriel by the collar. "Did you turn me in, lad?"

"What? No, never!"

"I didn't think you would. Have you a weapon?" When Zabriel shook his head, the Captain shoved a pistol and a dagger at him. "Run, lad. Get the girl out of here."

Though I registered Fane's command, I was too shocked to move or react. But Zabriel didn't hesitate. Latching on to my hand, he flung me forward in front of him.

"Move, Anya!" he shouted, and I fled, stopping and starting as I dodged the fight going on around me. I was almost free of the battle zone when someone grabbed me from behind, a hand over my mouth. I thrashed about, trying to pull the table knife from my pouch. Unable to get it open, I reached behind to clutch a handful of my attacker's hair, yanking hard. He cursed but didn't release me, instead dragging me toward the side of the bridge. My heart pounded in terror-was I about to be flung over the side? I clawed at his hand, desperate to scream, to summon help, to let someone know I was about to disappear forever.

A body rammed into us, knocking us sideways off our feet. I scrambled away on my hands and knees before turning to see who had come to my rescue. Zabriel was wrestling on the ground with one of the men who had ambushed us. I threw my hands over my mouth in terror-my a.s.sailant was much larger than Zabriel, and he had drawn a dagger. He rolled, pinning my cousin beneath him, the knife pressing downward despite Zabriel's grip on his wrists. For a moment, I stood paralyzed with fear; then I rushed forward and kicked the man in the gut. The air in his lungs forcefully expelled, weakening him, and Zabriel thrust him away. Grabbing the dagger Fane had given him, he stuck it up under the man's ribs, eliciting a cry of pain and rage. Eyes wild, my cousin struggled to his feet, his breath coming fast and furious. Catching sight of me, he once more shoved me in the direction he wanted me to go.

"Come with me!" I croaked, trembling uncontrollably.

"I'll be right behind you. Now get out of here!"

I turned from the fighting and ran down the length of the bridge, the shouts, pistol fire, and curses coming from the battle urging me onward. It was like Evernook Island all over again-Illumina and I racing for the water, the fire consuming the trees and heating the backs of our necks while we dodged bullets on the beach.

My feet left the bridge and began to pound pavement, but I didn't stop. I was still too exposed, too panicked, my nerves too raw. I ran until I thought I would pa.s.s out, finally ducking into an alley. I leaned back against the wall, panting heavily, every muscle in my body quivering, waiting for Zabriel to join me. He didn't come. I straightened and walked to the edge of the ally, searching the street for movement, my ears straining for sound. But he didn't appear. I gasped, choking back fear. What had become of the Prince?

I waited, pacing up and down the street, but there was no sign of him. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, considering. Should I return to the bridge and look for him there? No, that would be akin to walking into the enemy's den-and I didn't think I could bear to see the aftermath of the fight. I kicked at the ground in frustration, then started walking back toward the Governor's mansion. If Zabriel had escaped, he'd expect to find me there. And if he was still with Fane, he'd eventually show up on his own. But I could not shed my terror so easily. I shuddered and my gut heaved, my mind supplying images of splayed and bloodied bodies before sharply focusing in on Fane, his mismatched eyes staring sightlessly upward. I slammed my fists into the nearest wall, not caring about the pain that went shooting through my injured wrist-I would not allow myself to conjure any such image of Zabriel.

It was then I recognized the street I was traversing-I was in the neighborhood of the Fae-mily Home. My blood pumped faster and my breathing rapidly increased, for I was also in the vicinity of the pub that held relief-relief from pain, from fear, from memory, from life. Hit by a craving so intense it made my gut ache, my feet made the detour, my head refusing to take any responsibility for the decision.

Unlike previous times when I had entered The River's End, I did not hesitate, pushing straight through its patrons and past the bar to the vestibule that hid the door to the cellar.

"Buying or visiting?" Robb asked from his customary position behind a table, and for a brief moment, I wondered if he spent his life sitting there.

"Buying."

"He's in the office in the back-you know the way."

I nodded, then turned on my heel to thread my way through the patrons and into a dimly lit hallway at the rear of the establishment. Taking a deep breath, I knocked upon the only door to which the hallway led.

"Enter if you likes," a rough voice called, and I stepped inside the room, which was less cold but just as damp as the only other time I'd been here.

The man with the tattoos from whom I'd previously purchased my supply of Cysur sat behind his desk, cigar smoke twirling around his head, its smell mixing with the musty odor that otherwise pervaded this small s.p.a.ce.

"You're a needle customer, right?" he remarked, opening the desk and removing a pouch. He set it on the edge of the wood, and I stepped forward to take it. But before my hand could close around it, he s.n.a.t.c.hed it away. "Forgettin' somethin', aren't ya?" He slapped his palm down on the surface of the desk. "Coin first."

His act ripped away the last shreds of my self-control. I glared at him, then stormed around the desk to knock his chair backward, sending him sprawling. Before he could scramble to his feet, I stepped on his neck with my boot. While he gasped for air, I reached down and removed the dagger from his belt.

"I'm buying on credit this time."

He glared at me but didn't make a move, and I grabbed the pouch.

"I could injure you real bad right now, or you could exchange your word that you won't come after me for more ease in breathing."

"I won't come after you-not tonight, anyway," he growled, his cigar, still lit, burning into his shirt where it had fallen.

"I'll pay you back. We just need an understanding for the moment."

"Agreed, then. Don't see I have much choice."

I removed my foot and backed toward the door, reaching behind me for the handle. After opening it, I slid into the hallway, ramming my way through the pub and out into the evening air.

Tucking the dagger into the empty sheath at my side, I once more ran, not trusting the promise I'd extracted. When the Governor's mansion came into view, I dropped to a walk and shoved the pouch of Cysur into the small bag that hung from my belt, uncertain what to expect. By now, Luka and the Governor would have determined who was missing.

"Anya!" The voice, hushed yet sharp, seemed to come out of nowhere, and I turned to see Zabriel lurking in the shadow of the wall he and I had so ingloriously vaulted. I crossed to him, unsettled by the manic light in his brown eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"After I saw you safely off the bridge, I turned back to help, but..." His eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and he clenched his jaw, trying to stem his emotions. "Fane and his men were outnumbered three to one. There was nothing I could do."

He turned and smacked his hands against the wall.

"Fane's dead, Anya. Fane and his entire crew are dead."

I paled and fell to my knees, trying to understand what had happened, what had gone so horribly wrong.

"Who else knew about the note Gwyneth sent?" Zabriel suddenly demanded, drawing a blank stare from me. "Those men who attacked Fane were at the bridge before us-it was an ambush, Anya. That means someone knew we would be there. So who else knew about the note?"

"Fi-she delivered it to me." I met Zabriel's eyes, fear squeezing my heart. "And Luka. He saw Fi deliver the note to me, and he read it. But I never thought..."

"He figured it out, Anya. He's a smart man."

He turned and stalked off toward the gated entrance to the Governor's estate.

"Where are you going?" I called, scrambling to my feet and hastening to fall in step with him.

"To talk to Luka. I'm sure he's waiting for us."

Chapter Twenty-Six.

A CRUEL REMINDER.

Zabriel was right, of course. Constabularies had been directed to watch for our return, and they flanked us as we entered the mansion and proceeded up the staircase to the second floor. Our last encounter with the Lieutenant Governor in his study had been extremely unpleasant; this one promised to be worse.

Luka was sitting behind his desk when Zabriel and I entered, Marcus Farrier and Tom Matlock positioned on either side of him. Their expressions were stiff and tense, perfectly in keeping with the atmosphere in the room, though relief flooded Tom's face the moment his gaze fell on me. It was clear he knew I'd been in danger-that he knew I could have been hurt. Perhaps because he stood with Luka, I found his concern irritating.

Whatever approach to this meeting the Lieutenant Governor might have had in mind was preempted by Zabriel-he immediately rushed the desk and would likely have leaped over it had Farrier not reacted quickly enough to grab him by the shoulders and yank him back. My cousin's tunic and hands were smeared with blood, and red splattered his face. He looked wild, his eyes feral.

"You yellow, split-tongued, noxious, murdering son of a paper tiger and a spread-em-wide wh.o.r.e!" Zabriel shouted, causing me to flinch and Luka to slowly rise from his chair. But my cousin wasn't through berating his uncle yet. "Fight me like a man, you deuce. I'll flay you inside out and use your heart and lungs for my colors."

Zabriel panted for a moment, trembling with rage, while Luka walked around his desk, his eyes never leaving my cousin's face.

"The pirate comes out at last," he said, voice carefully controlled. "And congratulations on that stream of insults-I haven't heard such vivid language in years."

The Lieutenant Governor then turned his attention to me where I stood trembling a few feet behind my cousin.

"Care to add anything, Anya? Or has Zabriel sufficiently expressed your opinion, as well?"

I shook my head, wanting to disappear. The level of anger in the room was making the hair on my arms stand on end, and I expected the rest of the occupants of the mansion to burst through the door at any moment. How could anyone sleep through the tempest that was raging in the middle of the house?

Taking a deep breath, Luka leaned back against his desk, bracing himself with his hands on the wooden surface. "It's time to get a few things straight. All of the pirates caught on the bridge are dead, not something I feel the need to mourn, but an incident of your own making."

The images of bloodied bodies I had earlier quelled sprang up in my mind, and I stumbled to the side, clutching at the air, though it could offer no support. Tom immediately moved toward me, but Luka held up his hand to bring him to a halt.

The Lieutenant Governor was watching Zabriel, his eyes narrowed, and my cousin did not disappoint. He lunged once more at his uncle, causing Farrier to wrench his arms behind his back and exposing the pistol shoved into his belt. Tom stepped forward to remove the gun, then gave him a quick pat-down, though he found no other weapons. What had become of Fane's dagger? Had my cousin lost it in the fight? Concealed it on his person? Recalling that he'd had a pistol tucked into the shaft of his boot when Shea and I had caught up to him in Sheness, I wondered if he might have hidden it there. Luka took the gun from Tom, then waved the young man away, apparently too distracted to order a more thorough search.

"In your zeal to kill the pirates, you almost got us killed, too," Zabriel seethed, straining against Farrier. "Was that part of your plan, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

"My men were ordered to take you into custody, nothing more."

"But we didn't know that," I sputtered, the terror I had felt on the bridge returning tenfold. "We had no choice but to fight back."

Luka gave me a patient smile. "If I'd told you of our plans, I doubt the ambush would have been successful. We thus had no choice but to run the risk you would fight back, and any injuries to my men that resulted were an unfortunate side effect. But my orders were clear that neither of you were to be harmed."

"Apparently some of your men didn't get the message. I was almost tossed off the bridge."

"That should not have happened." The Lieutenant Governor considered me, his blue eyes piercing, and my thoughts went to the Cysur I had stuffed among my other supplies in the bag at my hip. "I suspect you misinterpreted their actions. Nonetheless, I'll look into it."

He turned back to Zabriel, whose glare had not diminished, and resumed his lecture.

"As I was saying, the lives of the pirates who died tonight are on your conscience. They would have at some point come to a grisly end, but it would not have been tonight. They died tonight because you disobeyed me."

He paused, waiting for his words to penetrate his nephew's brain.

"I thought I made it clear that no one from your past could be told Pyrite was still alive. If word were to spread that we faked your execution... Well, your new ident.i.ty as the Governor's grandson and the Prince of the Fae would be thrown in jeopardy. And that cannot be tolerated."

Luka pulled himself up to his full height and went to stand in front of Zabriel. Taking hold of his nephew's hair, he raised his head, forcing him to meet his gaze. His next words were very clearly enunciated.

"If you can't keep that straight, then I'll do it for you."

I stared at the Lieutenant Governor, my heart thudding painfully. Bitterness rose like bile in my throat-I had misjudged him, completely misread him, and that raised a highly unsettling question. About how many other things had I been wrong?

For a moment, I thought my cousin would retort; then his eyes flicked away from Luka. Satisfied that his message had gotten through, the Lieutenant Governor stepped back, and Zabriel's posturing diminished. He looked deflated, his anger turning into misery-the wolf's teeth were still bared, but he was no longer foaming at the mouth. Luka noticed, as well, and with a flick of his hand, he indicated to Farrier that he should release his hold. The Constable complied, though he moved no more than a step away, still on alert.

Sullenly examining his uncle, Zabriel rubbed his shoulders and upper arms. Now that the tension in the room was abating, Tom stepped forward to guide me to a nearby armchair. I sank into it, acutely aware of the syringe in the pouch at my hip and the relief it could bring. Despite his a.s.sertions, I felt certain Luka's goal had been to kill Fane and his men-and to give his nephew a horrific lesson in the process. Luka Ivanova was not someone to cross; I doubted the Lieutenant Governor realized Zabriel wasn't, either.

"Can I go?" my cousin grimly asked.