Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,152
against the wall and trapping him in place.
“Why isn’t he speaking?”
“I took his voice.” I shrugged when Rollo glanced back at me, blooming like a wildflower under the first rays of morning sunshine; after all, I could have sworn he was impressed with me—but maybe I was finally impressed with myself. “It just seemed best for everyone not to hear his poison, you know?”
If looks could kill, I’d have just died ten times over from the glare Lloyd hurled my way. Despite the panic flashing through me, I glared right back, because fuck him. Even Tully hissed, swiping his huge paw in Lloyd’s direction, claws extended and thirsty for warlock blood. Rollo, meanwhile, watched the whole interaction with a smirk, even chuckling softly when things settled, patting Lloyd on his bloody, grimy cheek before hauling him off the wall and thrusting him down the corridor.
While the office door was locked, Rollo had two of his men shoulder through, splintering the wood and ripping the hinges off the wall. For months this place had tormented me, made me sick with just the smell of the books and leather and mahogany. Now, striding into it ahead of Lloyd and Rollo, it wasn’t that scary. Just a room, all the crap righted and back in place after Lloyd’s tantrum. Just a boring, nondescript room. An office designed by the same decorator who did TV sets, it was that pretentious.
“Show him,” I ordered, motioning to the bookshelf Lloyd had vanished behind before he removed my collar an hour ago. “Show him what’s back there.”
Rollo charged across the room, dragging Lloyd along by the neck and shoving him into the shelves next to the hearth behind his desk. Trembling, the rumpled warlock grabbed at the bookshelf’s siding—and just opened it. He hadn’t even bothered to charm it closed, and for some reason, that made me furious.
Knowing now how easy it was—that our salvation was behind an unlocked door in a madman’s office…
Before any of us could slip into the secret passage that bookworms fantasized about all their lives, Lloyd rounded in place with some difficulty, then tapped at his throat.
“Does he need to speak?” Rollo growled, slamming him into the brick hearth, the back of his head making a solid whump on impact. Lloyd, however, just stared at me, full psychopath raging behind the flint, pain his aphrodisiac—or was it only my pain that got him hard?
“Doubt it,” I muttered, setting Tully down on Lloyd’s desk with a scowl, then crossing my arms. “I can give it back if that’s what you want.”
With a hurried nod, the fae’s patience finally started to wane more openly, and I swished my hand in Lloyd’s direction. The movement was halfhearted, the Loquere incantation flat and emotionless, but my magic struck him like a runaway bus. A burst of bright yellow slammed into his face, busting his lower lip and blackening an eye.
Yikes.
Should probably get that under control. Cheeks hot, I glanced back at the warrior keeping Lloyd’s wand captive; the spell would have been neater with a conduit, but I wasn’t particularly bothered about the injuries it inflicted—more the implication that Fintan’s girl wasn’t as skilled a witch as they might have hoped.
“There isn’t much space inside,” Lloyd croaked, smearing his bloody lip along the top of his hand—addressing Rollo but glowering at me. “Your garrison should wait here.”
“My lord,” one of the warriors protested, but Rollo’s swift dismissal, nothing more than a raised hand, silenced any protests.
“Show me,” he ordered, and Lloyd cocked his head to the side, finally looking at the prince with an all-too-familiar smugness that made my skin crawl.
“Wouldn’t you rather make a deal?”
As if that was the tipping point, Rollo grabbed him by the front of his perfectly pressed shirt, then hurled him through the bookshelf opening, stalking in furiously at his heels. While I hadn’t been invited, I sprinted after the pair, morbid curiosity and desperation forcing my hand.
In all the time that I had known Lloyd Guthrie on a disgustingly personal level, he struck me as honest. He relished the gory details of my family’s past. He delighted in sharing all the sick, twisted things he planned to do to me outside of Xargi. He defanged Rafe, and I had zero doubt he would have made good on all the other threats he raised against the dragon and fae I loved if I hadn’t given in to him…
So when he had said the space behind the bookshelf was tight, he wasn’t