pace with him since I was just a tiny bit taller than him. “Or even worse, you are fearless! I said not to let them bother you—not that you should pick a fight!”
I shrugged. “Since they’re never going to like me, it’d be better to show them that I don’t care that they don’t like me. Wouldn’t it?”
The Paragon sourly scrunched up his lips. “They’re bound to your will. You could have made them hold their tongues with the magic of the Court.”
“I’m not going to be a tyrant.”
“You’re going to be dead if you insist on acting fearless and still stick to your moral code,” the Paragon grumbled.
We climbed the stairs of a gorgeous patio, only to descend them on the other side as he led me into a tall garden walled in by huge hedges.
Just as the Paragon stepped through the wooden archway that marked off the garden entrance, I saw movement in the shadows of the castle-house.
It was the fae from my parents’ place. The one who had tried to murder me.
Chapter Seven
Leila
He wore the same clothes—the long, dark gray jacket that let him blend in with the shadows, the leather bracers, and the smudgy gray scarf that covered the lower half of his face. But it was his eyes that struck me the most—as dark and lifeless as death.
“Paragon,” I hissed urgently as I felt ice spread through my veins, making me cold despite the warm summer day.
The Paragon backed up several steps. “What do you—oh.” He broke off when I pointed to the fae.
“That’s the fae that tried to kill me.”
“Him?” The Paragon grimaced. “Out of everyone in the fae kingdom, why him?”
“Who is he?” I asked.
“Lord Rigel of the Night Court, also known as the Wraith. Although he’s a high ranking fae noble, he’s an assassin by trade.”
My heart thudded in my throat, but I felt it was my civic duty to break the tenseness of the moment. “How good of an assassin can he be if you know he’s an assassin?”
“It’s precisely because he’s that good that he’s known,” the Paragon said. “He’s one of the most dangerous fae lords in the United States—North America, even. It’s an open secret that he’s available for hire, but he’s so good there’s never any proof that it’s him. His position as a high ranking noble in the Night Court leaves him politically untouchable.”
Rigel didn’t move, but there was something about him that threw all of me into high alert, and my heart beat faster and faster as his black eyes didn’t look away from mine.
“But I saw him,” I said.
“Did you physically see him shoot you?” the Paragon asked.
I tried to swallow. “No. He was on the roof of the barn then. But after he hopped down to the ground he tried to throw a dagger at me and some magic—the stuff that keeps fae from killing their monarchs, I think—blocked him from harming me. I think he was mad.”
“If he showed himself, mad is a vast understatement.”
“That’s really comforting to hear.” I was almost afraid to blink—would this nut attack me in broad daylight in front of the Paragon?
“Sadly, there’s nothing you can do about him. With luck, whoever hired him to kill you did it on a long shot. As you discovered, he can’t hurt you directly given that he’s a member of your Court.” The Paragon sucked his head back into the gardens and shivered.
“What about indirectly killing me?” I asked.
“It’s a possibility, but it’s not his style. Come on—you’re safe with me, but I don’t fancy you catching his attention.”
I broke my standoff with Lord Rigel long enough to watch the Paragon scuttle farther into the hedge garden. When I looked back, the assassin was gone.
That’s enough to keep me awake all night tonight!
I ran after the Paragon, but my very real fear was making it hard to breathe. “Care to tell me why you didn’t think it was important to tell me one of my lords is a famous assassin?”
“Leila, there’s a lot you need to know. That Lord Rigel is lower on the priority list should tell you just how grim things are,” the Paragon darkly said.
I shivered when a leafy fern that leaned out into the woodchip covered path we walked on brushed my jeans. “Are you sure we should just leave him? Can’t he be arrested or something?”
“You could have him arrested, but Lord Rigel’s assassinations are never personal. It’s just business. By bothering him you risk