Kiss of the Betrayer (A Bringer and the Bane Novel) (4 page)

“Do you know him?”

Her sister’s jaw clenched, a rare sign of the demon’s vulnerability. After a second, she gave a tiny shake of her head. “No, I don’t
know
him.”

The way she stressed “
know”
meant there was more to the explanation than Rell was revealing. But after years of living with the demon, Jade also knew not to push for more until her sister was ready.

Jade stared at her sister. Not for the first time in the past few weeks did doubts about their plan plague her. Things had changed since she’d met Ravyn. Becoming her friend had made the impossible dream of having a normal life seem possible. Hope blossomed where an endless existence with her demon sister now flourished. The thought of tossing aside her current reality, one that bore no roots and flowered no friendships, sent a tremor of forbidden longing through her.

Rell turned to face her. “You’re reckless.”

Jade stiffened against her sister’s criticism but held her tongue.

“Perhaps
I
should be the one to kill Luc.”

“No!” Jade struggled to her feet. “I won’t let you risk slipping farther into the darkness.” She reached for Rell’s hands, needing to keep her sister rooted in the rational world. “You can’t afford to take such a chance.”

Tension eased from the demon’s stance, her gaze switching from their connected hands to Jade’s face. “So you still agree to kill him?”

“Yes.” The word turned sour in Jade’s mouth. Rell was determined to exact revenge on Luc, no matter the cost. Jade couldn’t allow the insidious darkness that spread through her sister to take over completely. “I will kill him.” For years Rell had kept her safe and fed despite the danger of discovery. Saving her sister’s soul was the least Jade owed her. “Tomorrow—I will do it tomorrow.”

Jade released her sister’s hands and rubbed her arm where the demon’s talons had dug in, the night suddenly taking on a bitter chill.

“Good.” Rell took a deep breath and released it. “And finally justice will be served.” The demon crouched. “I will be waiting.”

Jade stepped back and Rell launched herself into the sky. No sisterly goodbyes or hugs, just the cold detachment Jade had come to expect from the demon. Within seconds, the night sky had swallowed Rell’s ascent. Emptiness as heavy as a large stone weighed in the pit of Jade’s stomach, but she pushed aside the doubts troubling her.

For the betrayal of her family, she
would
keep her promise to her sister. She
would
kill Luc Le Daun tomorrow.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

Luc sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands. Every movement he made was a stinging reminder of his night spent at the tavern and the new dragon tattoo emblazoned from his hip to shoulder. The ship rocked gently from side to side, the motion doing nothing to soothe his ire. “Why did you do it, Ravyn?”

“We need you.” Her answer held far more confidence than it should have, or maybe it was her misplaced optimism that he’d rise to the challenge now that
they’d
made the decision to bring him to full power.

Luc lowered his arms and glared at her. “What gives you the right to take without my permission?”

“We didn’t take, Luc, we
gave
you your full Shield powers.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand your reluctance.”

“Not reluctance,” he barked. “Insistence. From the very first time you and Rhys offered to bring me to full power I’ve told you no, but you didn’t listen. You’ve turned me into something I never wanted to be.” He stood and walked to the window. She didn’t understand what she’d done. None of them did. “Something I have no right to be.”

The soft clip of her booted footsteps approached. She stopped beside him. Her concern brushed along his skin like a mother’s touch, but he steeled himself against the craving to be consoled by her. Each day Ravyn’s powers seemed to grow and at times it took all his strength not to give into her every request. Though envious of the deep bond of love Rhys and Ravyn shared, Luc did not envy Rhys in this one matter.

“Why don’t you have the right to be a Bringer, Luc? It’s your heritage.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew me, Ravyn.” He continued to stare out the window, fighting to keep the dark memories at bay. “I’ve done things…” He stopped, unable to share his shame. “I’m not worthy.”

“Every person has sins. Things they’re not proud of.” She ran her hand up and down his arm with comforting strokes. “Without those experiences, how would we learn right from wrong?”

He gave a humorless laugh and looked at her. “One day you’ll realize not everybody is worth saving.”

“No.” Her pale blue eyes flared, and that one word burned with conviction. “Men like Powell don’t deserve forgiveness, but you’re not like him.”

If only she knew how wrong she was. Though his crimes didn’t include kidnapping and serving up an innocent woman to the Demon Bane like Powell had done with Ravyn, the effects of Luc’s transgression still cut much deeper and hurt the very people who had trusted and loved him.

Luc studied her face. A thin black line ran from just below her lower lip to the indent above her chin, a Tell tattoo she’d received after gaining her full powers. She peered at him and he wondered what she saw. The woman found good in
nearly
everybody. Anger over what she’d been through during the past few weeks threatened to cool his resentment toward her.

His gaze slid back to the window and the crowd bustling along the dock in the late afternoon heat. Ravyn was like family to him, a maddeningly meddling sister.

“Your Tell powers don’t give you the ability to see into the past.” He crossed his arms and focused on his anger, not wanting to concede he had no other choice but to embrace being a Bringer Shield. “Not everybody is meant for, or even wants to be, a hero.”

Ravyn sighed and lowered her hand. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

He didn’t look at her, but felt the loss when she turned to leave, taking her warm presence with her. The door gave a quiet
click
.

Seconds ticked by but he didn’t move, continuing to stare absently out the window at the teeming dock. He was a Shield. Nothing could change that fact now. Not complaining, not wishing, and certainly not dredging up the ghosts from his past. He exhaled, releasing some of the tension in his knotted muscles, and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

Rhys had never been anything but good to him, seeing something more than he could see in himself and always putting duty before personal desires—until he’d found Ravyn. Both she and Rhys had wills of iron wrapped in a velvet covering and were exactly what the Bringers needed—all Bringers but him.

“Ehhh!” He slammed his palms on either side of the small window. “I need a drink.”

He yanked open the door and stepped onto the deck. Shouts and the rumble of wagons boomed around him. He stalked down the gangway toward
The Iron Crown
. People scattered from his path.

His mood darkened at the thought of being brought to full power. Would they change Siban against his will? Already his Tell ability to sense truth was strong, but he’d rejected all suggestions to be brought over. Though Siban never lamented about being imprisoned by the Bane for two years, Luc suspected that he waged a daily war against those awful memories. To give someone plagued by darkness such great powers would be foolish indeed. Luc made a mental pact with himself to defend Siban if they ever found themselves in the same position as last night—even if the Tell hadn’t had the consideration to return the favor.

Luc cursed through gritted teeth. Damn his inability to change the course of events.

A woman in a faded red gown stepped in front of Luc, blocking his path. Her bosom spilled over the top of a worn, gaping corset that had been made for a much smaller woman. Strings of greasy brown hair lay plastered against the side of her face and neck. She propped her hands on her ample hips and attempted a seductive smile, which was anything but.

“Time for some fun?” she asked.

Even at his lowest, Luc never engaged the services of the dock whores. Too many diseases, not to mention the chance of being robbed and beaten. Robbed and beaten? According to Rhys, that wasn’t something he’d have to worry about anymore. With his full powers, killing him had just become very difficult.

He reached into the small pocket of his leather vest and pulled out a gold liat. The woman eyed the money hungrily.

Luc flipped the coin at her and she snatched it out of the air like a frog snatches a fly. “Go home,” he said.

The whore stared at the coin, turning it over in her hand to examine it. She stuck it in her mouth, bit down and then looked at him with a confused expression. “You’ll not be wantin’ somethin’ for this?”

“Yes.” He assessed her for a long moment. Stains on her underdress and her unnaturally plump breasts told him she still had a babe on the teat. “I want you to go home.” He flipped her another liat. Her eyes widened as she caught the second gold piece. “And purchase food for your family.”

She stared at the coins and then back at him, her eyes narrowing. “And you don’t want nothin’ else?”

“No.”

She straightened, lifting her chin an inch. Pride, he recognized it in her stance. Strange thing about pride, it crossed all boundaries. The lowest doxy would rather sell her body than accept charity. Yet a nobleman could whore himself to a king for land and title, slaughtering innocent people in the name of his sovereign, and never miss a night’s sleep.

“I don’t take charity.”

“I’m paying you to go home and take care of your children.” He paused and held out his hand. “But if you prefer to work the dock…”

Her fingers tightened around the coins, more money than she’d make in a week. “Well, if you’re makin’ me leave, guess it’s not charity.”

He lowered his hand and stared at her. She dropped the money between her breasts. The coins clinked, sliding between the mounds to settle somewhere in the sweaty recesses of her bosom. She tipped her head at him in silent thanks, turned and sauntered away.

Luc pushed through the crowd, not looking to see if the whore had left. He’d done his good deed and whether she complied with his demands or not was no concern of his. At the very least, he hoped her children would have full bellies tonight.

Thankfully,
The Iron Crown
was crowded. Jade slithered through the crush of drinkers and settled in a dark corner across the tavern from Luc. He sat slumped, staring into his mug of ale, turning the cup in slow, continuous circles. His wealth of blond hair was plaited into a thick braid that hung nearly to his waist and showed off the sculpted features of his face. Jade huffed and chided her appraisal. What was his handsomeness to her? Nothing more than a distraction she didn’t need.

She’d followed him from the ship, had watched when he’d tossed the dock whore not one, but two pieces of gold. But what had surprised her most was when he’d walked away from the woman. Damn him for doing something good.

Her hand moved over the knife secreted inside the waistband of her pants, under her tunic. The cold metal pressed against her side. Usually the weapon comforted her, but today it felt like an unwelcome intruder.

The minutes ticked by but she didn’t move, waiting for Luc to leave. Tonight she’d fulfill her promise to Rell and be done with it—no regrets. Tomorrow, just maybe, she’d be able to start a new life.

Funny how the prospect of his death no longer held the same draw it had months ago. A sense of betrayal crept through her. Avenging her family had always seemed simple, but now the act was layered with repercussions. Could she kill Luc and spend the rest of her life pretending she’d not been involved? Could she build her friendship with Ravyn, knowing all the while it had been her hand that had caused her new friend’s grief? Jade shook herself from her dark ruminations and turned her attention back to Luc.

He was different tonight. Not even the tavern whores could pull him from his brooding. When the wenches sidled to his table he didn’t look up, only shook his head and continued to stare into his cup. Jade pushed away the jab of pity for him. He had everything and had taken everything from her. She hardened her conviction. She would end this tonight.

Luc stood and tossed a coin to the serving wench. Jade tensed and slid from her chair. Her heart beat in her throat as if she’d been running for her life. She gripped the solid hilt of the dagger through her rough tunic, her thumb caressing a chink in the metal at the butt of the hilt. The repetitive action helped to calm her nerves and center her focus.

She wove a path through the crowd and moved in behind him. He was so tall. His head nearly reached the low beams of the tavern. She swallowed hard, praying she could bring him down with one strike.

The smell of warmed leather encircled her. His braid grazed his lower back and her fingers itched to run the golden rope across her palm. Instead, she steeled her resolve and snaked her hand under her tunic to pull the knife from the waist of her pants. No weakness. No second-guessing herself.

A group of drunken men began to sing and sway, staggering into her. She stumbled, nearly dropping the dagger, but righted herself.

Luc was almost at the door. He mounted the two stone stairs and stepped onto the muddy road. The sun hung low, half hidden by the horizon. Her attack had to be timed well. The darkening sky would be an advantage. She shoved the few stray strands of hair that had escaped back under her kerchief and pulled the hood of her tunic more tightly around her head.

She followed as close as she dared, clutching the knife in a death grip, ready for her chance. He stopped and vigorously rubbed his arms as if set upon by a chill. His gaze wrenched upward, searching the sky.

Luc began to turn. Jade froze, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t let him see her, didn’t want to witness the recognition in his eyes when she took his life.

Without thought, she drew back her arm and thrust the knife deep into Luc’s side. The blade pierced the leather of his vest and sank into hard flesh. She stood, unable to move, horrified by the sickness rolling through her body and the blood pouring over her hand. He stumbled, jolting her from her shock. Jade twisted her wrist and pushed him forward, pulling the knife free. The strike had landed fatally true to its mark. Luc fell against the stone wall of the tavern and clutched at his side.