32. Chace #2
Winter’s boorish stare burned my skin. Ever since I’d met up with the prince, the male had been finding it difficult to keep his eyes off me.
I supposed it was due to the fact that I had been unable to successfully wipe away all the evidence of my time with Raven. My lips were still mildly swollen, my skin a brighter pink in all the places her mouth had been.
Winter’s displeasure was another delight in my already extraordinary night.
“Coat check? Really?” He leaned against the wall beside the clerk’s counter and crossed his arms. “I fail to understand why we must do this now. Or…why you bothered with a coat at all.”
I shrugged. “Might come in handy.”
“Doubtful.” Winter’s attention narrowed in on my likely too-red lips.
He frowned.
“Never know,” I retorted, ignoring his scrutiny.
“At least you can use it to cover up all that unwanted exposed skin.” He flicked his wrist, raising a hand to indicate my open vest and visible chest.
His clear discomfort drew a smirk to my lips.
“Here you go.”
Putting the exchange behind me, I spun to the clerk.
She handed my coat over the countertop. “Curious piece. Does it go with your costume?”
I slid her a tip and tucked the coat under my arm. “You might say that.”
The Killian cloak would hide my costume, and me, when I decided to don it. I certainly wouldn’t sneak around the castle without utilizing the ability to disappear. Winter had no idea how useful the coat could be.
With a quick glance over me, he said, “Let’s go,” and stalked away.
The prince led us through countless passages, working us deeper and deeper into the fortified compound. When we arrived at a room Winter identified as our destination, the prince slipped a key from his pocket, deftly unlocked the door, and ushered us in.
I crept down the aisle of tables and shelves, absorbing the sight. The space appeared to be a tinkering workshop for an aspiring mage, not a reaper…as Raven and I had been led to believe the male once was.
“This Valen guy is the only one who uses this space?” I skirted a finger along the nearest table.
A semi-thick layer of dust covered the surface.
“He is.” Winter stalked toward the back wall. “Actually, he spends a fair amount of time in here…when he’s not working with Raven on her agreement with the queen.”
Yeah. That.
I wasn’t crazy about that agreement, but I understood why she’d made the pledge.
Winter mumbled a curse. “It’s locked.”
He stepped to the side, revealing an unremarkable door set in the back wall.
He jabbed his thumb at the barred entrance. “It was unlocked the last time I was here. The door we’re seeking is inside this supply closet.”
“Let me see what I can do.” I nudged him to the side.
Winter grunted. “You good with picking locks? Because…otherwise…no.”
Winter shoved between me and the door, pressed his hand to the lock. A silent wind stirred and…click.
“Just. Like. Magic.” He yanked the door open and stepped inside.
I had to admit, Winter’s ability clearly had its perks. With a quick glance behind me to verify the room was clear, I clipped the Killian cloak at my neck and followed Winter into the supply closet.
Winter was already busy engaging his magic with the lock on the second door. His face reddened with stress and concentration, and his fingers turned blue, crystallized with ice. He grunted and bent over. Pressed his hands to his knees.
“Bit of a workout?” I chided.
“The lock is stubborn. I don’t think we’ll be able to get it open.” He stood and squared his shoulders. “This little adventure may be a bust.”
Little adventure? This was serious stuff. An investigation into my past or a possible threat to Raven in the palace.
“Let me try,” I said.
Winter turned an icy glare on me. “What can you do that my magic can’t?”
I shrugged. “I might surprise you.” I pressed to his side, attempting to gain access to the lock. “Now move aside.”
Winter did as requested, although hesitantly and with a grumble.
I angled my body to block his view, then extracted the Killian key from my thigh pocket and inserted it into the lock. The door unlatched with ease.
I slipped the key back into my pocket before turning to face Winter.
“How did you do that?” He shoved his fists onto his hips.
“Trade secret.”
With a strong tug on the handle, the door slid open, revealing a tight stairwell carved into the stone. I listened for half a second and, hearing nothing worthy of concern, proceeded down the steps. Winter glided on his magical wind close at my back.
With each descending step, the stench of death grew more prominent. Death and filth. Scents reminiscent of my time locked in an underground cell. I shuddered but soldiered on.
“Gods.” Winter covered his nose. “What is he doing down here?”
“That’s what we’re here to figure out.” I took the last few steps with extreme caution and found the awaiting room clear…and relatively empty.
One side of the space was open and barren, with nothing more than a solo chair pushed against the wall and a door to chambers beyond.
The other side of the room consisted of two large cells, one of which appeared to have been recently used.
The dank smell of stale food, body odor, and waste adhered to the floor, the bedding, the bars.
Clung like oil to the surrounding air molecules.
Winter stepped free of the stairwell and moved past me, headed straight for the presumably used cell.
“The first time I discovered this place,” he said, swinging the cell door open. “Valen was down here talking to someone. I heard a bare murmuring when the other spoke.”
He stepped into the cage and knelt beside the bedding, ran his fingers over the moth-eaten blanket.
“He was keeping someone in conditions like this?” His voice rattled with anger. And when he turned to face me, his eyes glowed with a winter storm. “No one deserves to be treated like this.”
I didn’t bother to vocalize my agreement. I expected it to be understood. After all, I’d been subjected to a similar treatment. Which made me wonder―
The door at the far end of the chamber flew open, and a form rushed in, a blur through the space. The cell door banged closed, locking Winter inside.
The prince hollered, but before I could move to lend aid, the thing blurring through the room was upon me. Knocking me sideways and kicking me to the ground. I slammed to a stop with my back against the bars of the cell.
A winter mist began to form on the floor—the prince’s magic. Aware that I needed to get Winter out of the cell, his abilities likely useful in the fight, I ripped the Killian key from my thigh pocket and raised it to the lock.
Something struck me, knocking the key from my hold and sending it skittering out of reach.
Dammit.
The room quickly fell to an arctic temperature. Frost coated the floor and walls. And still, the thing moved around me like a blur of color and light. An icy windstorm ignited, blowing my hair across my sight and pushing against my efforts to move.
I needed to gain my bearings.