“Ya gonna get down to business?” Nor asked, and I felt a wet tongue slide against the skin of my throat—something I would absolutely never think of again. “Or am I gonna have to show ya how to do it?”

On second thought, I doubted I would worry about my actions.

I leaned back, and he let go of my hair. “I’m ready to get down to business.”

His beady gaze was still fixated on the swells of my breasts. “Then get to it.”

I got to it.

Sweeping my arm in a wide arc, I watched his eyes go wide with shock. The sharpened edge of the blade sliced deep across his throat as I jumped away from the spray of hot blood. I was fast, but I still felt it mist my chest.

Dammit.

Nor lurched to his feet, stumbling and clasping his ruined throat. Red spilled over his hands and between his fingers. His mouth opened, but nothing but a gurgle came out. Those cold, panicked eyes latched onto mine as he staggered forward, reaching out with a blood-smeared hand. I carefully stepped to the side. A heartbeat later, his body hit the dirtied floor with a fleshy thud and a jangle.

Mindful of the spreading pool of blood, I gathered my skirts and crouched. Spasms ran through him. I wiped my blade clean upon his shirt and then resheathed it in my boot. “May the Primal of Death take no mercy upon your soul.” I started to rise and then stopped. I reached to his left hip, gripping the bag of coins. I snapped the pouch free. “Thank you for this.”

Standing, I stared down at him for a few seconds as I wished away the warmth gathering in my hands, the instinctive reaction to death. I stared at his still form, ignoring the unwanted knowledge that I could undo this.

I wouldn’t.

I wouldn’t even if I could allow myself to.

Turning away, I walked around the desk and entered the hall. There were only two chambers. One door had been left ajar. It was packed wall-to-wall with cots covered by dirtied linens. I turned to the other door. “Nate?” I called out quietly. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer but I did hear the soft smack of feet against the floor.

“I’m here to take you to your sister.” I buttoned my cape. “Ellie’s at the Cliffs with a lovely lady who has been taking care of her.”

A beat of silence passed, and then a small voice stated, “Ellie ain’t her full name. It’s short for her given name. What’s her given name?”

Hell.

I shook my head, partly relieved that the child wasn’t all that trusting. Ellie. What could Ellie be short for? Elizabeth? Ethel? Elena? “Eleanor?” I guessed, squeezing my eyes closed.

There was a long gap of silence and then, “Is Ellie really okay?”

I opened one eye. Maybe the gods were good to me. “Yes. She is. And I want to take you to her, but we have to leave.”

“What…what about Papa?”

Biting my lip, I looked over my shoulder to the room his papa currently bled out in. I turned back to the door. “Your papa had to…take a nap.” A nap? I cringed.

“He’ll be mad when he wakes and can’t find me,” Nate whispered through the door. “He’ll give me another shiner or worse.”

Yeah, well, he wasn’t going to be giving anyone a shiner ever again. “He won’t come after you. I promise. The Ladies of Mercy will keep you safe from him. Just like they’re keeping your sister safe.”

I heard nothing from the other side of the door, and there was a good chance I would have to kick it in. I didn’t want to traumatize the child any further, but… I stepped back.

The door cracked open, and a waifish face appeared. “I wanna see my sister.”

Relief swept through me. I smiled down at the child—a real smile, not one I’d been taught. I offered him a hand. “Then let’s go see your sister.”

Nibbling on his lip, his gaze darted back and forth between my hand and face. He came to some sort of decision and placed his hand in mine. The contact of his warm skin jarred me, but I forced myself to get over it and curled my hand around his.

I led him out of the hall and walked straight past the front chamber, not allowing him to look toward the desk. I unlocked the door and ushered him out onto the stoop.

Molly was still there, fidgeting with the laces of her corset. She turned, raising her eyebrows as she glanced between the young boy and me. Her sunken eyes lifted to mine.

I pressed the bag of coins into her hand. “I wouldn’t linger outside this door for very long,” I whispered as Nate tugged on my arm. “You understand?”

Molly’s eyes darted to the closed door behind me. “I…I understand.” Her slim fingers curled around the pouch.

“Good.” I stepped out from under the alcove into the too-bright sunlight and didn’t look back.

Not once as I led the boy away.

“I see I was correct.” Ezra noted the moment I sat across from her in the carriage after depositing the boy beside Marisol.

“About what?”

Ezra flicked a finger toward my chest. I looked down, seeing dark spots sprinkled across the freckles there. I sighed.

“Did you kill that man?”

Smoothing out the skirts of the gown, I crossed my ankles. “I believe he slipped and fell upon my blade.”

“Was it his throat that fell upon your blade?”

“Odd, right?”

“Odd, indeed.” Ezra tilted her head to the side as she stared blankly at me. “That happens quite often around you.”

“Unfortunately.” I arched a brow at my stepsister. “Men with careless fists should be more mindful of where they step.”

A faint smile appeared on Ezra’s face. “You know, you do frighten me a little.”

I turned to the carriage window as we rolled down the sunny street. “I know.”

Chapter 9

Fractured sunlight streamed through the thickly branched elms as I walked through the forest toward the lake. What I had done to Nor threatened to haunt each step. I felt nothing with just a little bit of…something.

Something I didn’t like.

Something I didn’t want to think about.

I pictured the smile of relief on Nate’s face, how toothy and contagious it had been when he saw his sister waiting for him at the orphanage along the Cliffs of Sorrow. I tried to use that to replace the image of his father’s shocked, wide eyes. I thought of the joyous rush the boy made toward his sister. I watched through the carriage window instead of dwelling on the utter lack of remorse I felt for ending a man’s life.

Or I tried to, at least. My stomach gave another sharp twist as I passed the musky-scented wildflowers growing into thick bushes at the base of the elms. What is wrong with you? My voice echoed in my thoughts, over and over. Something had to be, right? My palms dampened, and I carefully made my way over the branches that had fallen, and the sharp rocks hidden under the foliage—hidden just like the wake of death I was leaving behind.

Something beautiful and powerful…

I didn’t feel like either of those things.

Two mortals had come for me since the night I’d failed, having learned my identity and thinking to use it to gain whatever they wanted. There were three more, including Nor, that had met death at the end of my blade. None of them were good people. They were all as unworthy as I was. Abusers. Murderers. Rapists. Death would’ve found them eventually. Five had died by my hand on the orders of my mother, and they didn’t include the Vodina Isles Lords. Fourteen. I had ended fourteen lives.

What is wrong with you?

My stomach churned again, and I blew out a ragged breath. Barely any sunlight penetrated this deep into the forest, and it was slightly cooler here, but my skin was sticky like those wood floors in that chamber. Tacky with sweat and blood. I was half tempted to pull the cape and gown off now. I could. I knew no one else would enter these woods. Everyone was afraid of the Dark Elms—even Sir Holland. But I kept my clothing on because walking in a slip or nude through the woods just seemed odd, even for me—