Chapter 33 Zaria #2
Ward gave a breathy chuckle as he grabbed her gun, setting it aside.
It didn’t make Zaria feel any less trapped.
He was lovely, this man, with a face befitting a sought-after suitor.
He looked precisely the same as he had six years ago, not a line creasing the smooth skin of his face.
Zaria thought she understood why he was so good at getting what he wanted—why Kane was so good at getting what he wanted.
They were cut from the same cloth whether Kane had allowed it to happen willingly or not.
“When I found out Kane had gotten involved with Itzal Mendoza’s daughter, I was certain you had to know he was after the primateria source.
Why else would you have agreed to help him seek it out?
I knew you’d betray him. I tried to get rid of you, but he turned out to be annoyingly gallant.
” Ward tilted his head to the side, surveying Zaria with mild interest. “I told him to cut ties with you and let him think I’d dropped the matter.
But no matter how apt a thief my boy may be, you’re far cleverer.
I figured you’d be the one to end up with the necklace.
” He stretched out a hand, a pleasant smile gracing his lips.
“Now give it to me.” Zaria swallowed hard.
The kingpin was clever. He’d read the situation perfectly and had predicted each one of her movements.
But he was wrong about the first thing he’d said—she hadn’t known the necklace was a primateria source at first. She hadn’t known, and she’d been desperate enough to help Kane anyway.
It was strange, looking at Ward and knowing he’d made Kane what he was. She couldn’t imagine being fathered by the man who’d killed your parents. Zaria wondered what sort of things Kane had carved out of himself to make space for the lessons Ward taught him.
“You destroyed his life,” she found herself saying, her voice hoarse. She didn’t know where it had come from, the emotion that now swelled in the cavity of her chest, but she let it grow. “You destroyed his life. He was a child.”
Ward’s brows shot upward, and something like understanding crossed his face. “You care about him.”
She didn’t respond.
“And yet you still betrayed him.” This time Ward’s laugh was the real thing. It sent goose bumps climbing Zaria’s arms. “How boldly you claim I’m the monster, Miss Mendoza.”
She wasn’t about to get backed into that corner.
“You don’t even care that the people in Devil’s Acre are suffering, do you?
You make demands of them while knowing they have nothing.
You ruin lives with no thought for it. And all the while you’re bleeding boys of their humanity, turning them into monsters just like you.
” Her mouth twisted on the last sentence, and they both knew she was only referring to one boy in particular.
Ward clicked his tongue. “I saved Canziano’s life. I could have killed him, and I didn’t.”
“Canziano?”
Ward’s mouth twisted. “The name Kane’s mother gave him.”
It didn’t suit Kane at all. Was that why he’d left it behind?
Zaria tried to imagine him as the child he’d once been: a watchful, well-mannered little creature.
Slender hands made for music, not murder.
She wondered if his parents’ deaths were what had broken him or if he’d already been starting to crack.
“Give me the necklace,” Ward repeated, malice edging into his tone.
She took a step back, knowing it was pointless. “No.”
He looked almost bored. “You have five seconds to hand it to me, or I fire a bullet into your pretty little skull.”
Zaria could picture very well what damage a dark market gun would to do her head.
Magic would shred the flesh, burrow into her brain, then disintegrate from the inside out.
She’d be dead before she realized Ward had pulled the trigger.
But was she supposed to simply… give it up?
She had risked everything for the primateria source.
It was all she’d wanted since her father’s death.
It was the one thing that was supposed to change her life.
It couldn’t do that, though, if she was dead. And what about Jules? Would Ward leave her cooling body here for him to find, crushing his heart and hope for the future in one fell swoop? Or would he take Jules for his crew without ever explaining what had happened?
Hands shaking, gaze as hard as flint, Zaria reached up and unclasped the necklace.
She’d worn it only a short while, but giving it to Ward felt like handing over a piece of her soul. She watched it dangle between her fingers, glinting vermilion in the firelight, before he reached out and snatched it. Greed sharpened the angular planes of his face, and his lips parted.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
Ward’s gun was still raised, but his attention was no longer on Zaria. If she could move fast enough to retrieve her gun from where it sat atop the worktable, she might be able to get a shot off. Maybe. It was a chance she needed to take before the moment passed her by.
Zaria lunged.
At the same moment, someone burst through the doorway into her workshop.