A heartbeat later, a sensual caress trailed along my mental shields—a polite request. I let it drop, let him in, and his voice filled my head. To the huntresses who remember to reach back for those less fortunate—and water-wraiths who swim very, very fast.
CHAPTER
38
Amren took the Book to wherever it was she lived in Velaris, leaving the five of us to eat. While Rhys told them of our visit to the Summer Court, I managed to scarf down breakfast before the exhaustion of staying up all night, unlocking those doors, and very nearly dying hit me. When I awoke, the house was empty, the afternoon sunlight warm and golden, and the day so unusually warm and lovely that I brought a book down to the small garden in the back.
The sun eventually shifted, shading the garden to the point of frigidness again. Not quite willing to give up the sun yet, I trudged the three levels to the rooftop patio to watch it set.
Of course—of course—Rhysand was already lounging in one of the white-painted iron chairs, an arm slung over the back while his other hand idly gripped a glass of some sort of liquor, a crystal decanter full of it set on the table before him.
His wings were draped behind him on the tile floor, and I wondered if he was also taking advantage of the unusually mild day to sun them as I cleared my throat.
“I know you’re there,” he said without turning from the view of the Sidra and the red-gold sea beyond.
I scowled. “If you want to be alone, I can go.”
He jerked his chin toward the empty seat at the iron table. Not a glowing invitation, but … I sat down.
There was a wood box beside the decanter—and I might have thought it was something for whatever he was drinking had I not noticed the dagger fashioned of mother-of-pearl in the lid.
Had I not sworn I could smell the sea and heat and soil that was Tarquin. “What is that?”
Rhys drained his glass, held up a hand—the decanter floating to him on a phantom wind—and poured himself another knuckle’s length before he spoke.
“I debated it for a good while, you know,” he said, staring out at his city. “Whether I should just ask Tarquin for the Book. But I thought that he might very well say no, then sell the information to the highest bidder. I thought he might say yes, and it’d still wind up with too many people knowing our plans and the potential for that information to get out. And at the end of the day, I needed the why of our mission to remain secret for as long as possible.” He drank again, and dragged a hand through his blue-black hair. “I didn’t like stealing from him. I didn’t like hurting his guards. I didn’t like vanishing without a word, when, ambition or no, he did truly want an alliance. Maybe even friendship. No other High Lords have ever bothered—or dared. But I think Tarquin wanted to be my friend.”
I glanced between him and the box and repeated, “What is that?”
“Open it.”
I gingerly flipped back the lid.
Inside, nestled on a bed of white velvet, three rubies glimmered, each the size of a chicken egg. Each so pure and richly colored that they seemed crafted of—
“Blood rubies,” he said.
I pulled back the fingers that had been inching toward the stones.
“In the Summer Court, when a grave insult has been committed, they send a blood ruby to the offender. An official declaration that there is a price on their head—that they are now hunted, and will soon be dead. The box arrived at the Court of Nightmares an hour ago.”
Mother above. “I take it one of these has my name on it. And yours. And Amren’s.”
The lid flipped shut on a dark wind. “I made a mistake,” he said. I opened my mouth, but he went on, “I should have wiped the minds of the guards and let them continue on. Instead, I knocked them out. It’s been a while since I had to do any sort of physical … defending like that, and I was so focused on my Illyrian training that I forgot the other arsenal at my disposal. They probably awoke and went right to him.”
“He would have noticed the Book was missing soon enough.”
“We could have denied that we stole it and chalked it up to coincidence.” He drained his glass. “I made a mistake.”
“It’s not the end of the world if you do that every now and then.”
“You’ve been told you are now public enemy number one of the Summer Court and you’re fine with it?”
“No. But I don’t blame you.”
He loosed a breath, staring out at his city as the warmth of the day succumbed to winter’s bite once more. It didn’t matter to him.
“Perhaps you could return the Book once we’ve neutralized the Cauldron—apologize.”
Rhys snorted. “No. Amren will get that book for as long as she needs it.”
“Then make it up to him in some way. Clearly, you wanted to be his friend as much as he wanted to be yours. You wouldn’t be so upset otherwise.”
“I’m not upset. I’m pissed off.”
“Semantics.”
He gave me a half smile. “Feuds like the one we just started can last centuries—millennia. If that’s the cost of stopping this war, helping Amren … I’ll pay it.”
He’d pay with everything he had, I realized. Any hopes for himself, his own happiness.
“Do the others know—about the blood rubies?”
“Azriel was the one who brought them to me. I’m debating how I’ll tell Amren.”
“Why?”
Darkness filled those remarkable eyes. “Because her answer would be to go to Adriata and wipe the city off the map.”