I felt all the blood rushing out of my head as I stared at him. Remember he is your enemy. Remember what he could do to you.
“What’s your name?” I whispered. “Your real name?”
He leaned into my ear, and he whispered, “Samael.”
An image slammed into my mind: his name written in blood.
That was all it took to remember what he really was—a murderer.
A shudder rippled through me—this time, of fear. He seemed to sense the shift in me, his expression darkening. He pulled his hand from my hair, and released me.
Then he turned, his cloak pulled up high, and strode out of the ballroom.
16
Lila
The cold rain had dampened my coat, and I hugged it around me as we sat in the train car. Hearing his name was a good reminder of what he was. Even Lord Armaros had warned me about him.
If you ever happen to see his true face, your sanity would never recover.
With a shiver of dread, I wondered what his true face was like.
Sharp thorns of horror were prodding their way into my consciousness, a thought so terrible I could hardly engage with it. I was in the carriage with Death Incarnate.
As the train moved above Dovren, I stared out at the Dark River on my right side. It seemed to seethe and churn outside like a living thing. I wanted Alice.
Tonight, I would sneak out of my room, slink around the castle, and try to see if I could find any signs of my sister.
The moonlight hit the side of his face under his hood, and I thought I caught a mournful expression in his large, gray eyes.
Then, Samael’s deep voice pulled me from my dark musings. “Tell me what you learned of the Free Men.”
When I reached into my bodice, where I was keeping the two items, his gaze darted lower—watching the movement very carefully.
“I found your information, as requested. Therefore, you do not need to throw me out onto the street and take the money back.” I pulled out the cufflink, and the little piece of paper.
If knowledge was power, I was at a distinct disadvantage. Even if I’d looked at the paper myself, I wouldn’t have been able to read it.
“Here,” I said. “I think the man I took this from was one of the Free Men. They had the same little cufflinks as the man you executed today. Silver, with lightning bolts. One of these men passed the other a note.”
Samael took both from my hand, then unfolded the note to read it.
After a moment, he folded it again and put it in his cloak. “Good. You’ve done as I asked.”
I blinked at him. “What did it say?”
He turned to look at me, his eyes icy. “You know the Bibliotek Music Hall well.”
“Extremely.”
“If the Free Men were meeting there, where would they meet?”
“On the top floor, I think. I haven’t been up there. Only the wealthiest members are allowed. But that seems like the Free Men. The top floor has its own entrance.”
“They’re meeting there tomorrow night. Is there a way we can listen in to their conversation without them realizing? I think I might need your lip-reading skills.”
These were the men Finn seemed to put a lot of faith in, which meant maybe I should give them a warning, first. I nodded anyway. “Ernald probably has secret rooms everywhere for people to watch things. And yes, I can read lips if we need it.”
At this point, it occurred to me that we would run into people I knew at the music hall. And those people would be calling me “Lila.”
“Tell me how long you worked for Ernald,” he murmured.
“Since I was seven.” That was the truth.
“But you were a child.” His voice was a sharp blade.
My eyes widened. “Oh, not as a courtesan. I helped him discreetly transfer goods around the city.”
“That sounds like quite the euphemism.”
“He’s a respectable businessman.” That was Ernald’s favorite lie.
“A thief at seven. I suppose that explains why your parents didn’t bother teaching you to read.”
My stomach clenched. Learning to read wasn’t going to help us eat, was it?
Mum had raised me and Alice all on her own. She’d been a pretty good mum, too, before Alice disappeared. Good enough that we were as clean and well-fed as possible. She helped keep food on our table, told us stories.
“My mother did the best she could,” I said defensively.
“You don’t mention a father.” His deep voice reverberated around the carriage.