Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I'm busy," I snapped at Volkov. My fingers curled into fists by my sides.
Volkov urgently waved his hand, and Mei stepped forward to give him something small and black. Volkov in turn extended his hand, dark freckles speckling the alabaster skin, toward me. Cradled in his palm was a pager. "Your father had it delivered today."
Reluctantly, I reached across and plucked the pager from his palm, turning it between my fingers, and scowled. My father's phone number flashed across its narrow screen demanding I phone him back. "It's defective," I replied, glancing up and raising a lonely eyebrow.
Volkov squinted, perplexed, his gaze lowering to the brand-new pager. "No, it seems to be in good working—"
Before he got to finish his sentence I dropped the pager to the ground. It struck with a hollow clack. I lifted my boot and stomped on it, relishing its destruction. Plastic split and cracked and popped as I continued to stomp and grind the pieces into the marble floor until it was a mess of flattened plastic and wires.
It was childish, but for a moment it felt glorious. It was as if I was stomping all over the Contract of Negotiations and the hope my father had that a union with the Szarvases would raise us to an Upper House.
"It's defective," I ground out, settling a hand on my hip, my other hand wrapping around the leather bandoleer strapped across my chest.
Mei clapped a hand to her chest as she stared downward at the destruction strewn across the marble floor. Her eyes widened until most of the whites were showing around the irises.
Volkov glanced briefly at the smashed mess of the pager and swallowed thickly. "Ah yes, I see," he murmured quietly.
But I wasn't done with Volkov. I didn't care much for him. I didn't like his passive-aggressive attitude with my girlfriend, nor did I like seeing Mei shrink under his cold glare as he tipped up his chin, silently ordering her to pick up the broken pager. As Head Housekeeper, he sucked ass. So I'd made it my business to make him squirm.
Before Mei could, I bent down and scooped the pager up. It dangled between my fingers in a string of wires barely holding onto the smashed outer shell. I handed it to Volkov. "Send it back to my father, personally, would you?"
His jaw clenched and eyes darkened at being treated less than his fancy position. But he dipped his head politely. "Certainly, Mr. Crowther."
He made to leave, but I stopped him once more. "Oh, and Volkov, I'm a little peckish, so can you bring a bowl of raw peanuts to my quarters."
"Yes, Mr. Crowther, of course."
He turned to Mei and I knew he was going to ask her to do it. "Miss Purcell—"
I tut-tutted him, stopping him from finishing his order. Surely by now, he knew that he was firmly in my crosshairs? A muscle twitched in his jaw as he glanced my way, unable to stop himself from bristling.
