He took one of my rooks with one of his knights before he answered. “Don’t forget arcane magic.”
“All the better to further your goals?”
He nodded. “Precisely.”
“No fiction?”
His brows rose. “Fiction? I look like I would read fiction?”
He had a point. There was no way he settled down with a good mystery novel on a snowy night. “What was I thinking? When could you possibly find the time, between torturing people and hunting me?”
“Precisely. But you read fiction.”
“Interested in what I read, are you?”
“Interested in you.” He watched me intently, his ocean-deep gaze making me feel like I was the only person in the world.
“No, you’re not. You just want to use me.”
“True, I do want you to embrace your destiny at my side. But it’s more than that.”
I blinked, surprised. “More?”
“More. But I’m not telling you.”
“Then tell me what your favorite book is.”
He frowned. “You wouldn’t know it.”
“I’m a librarian. Try me.”
“It’s the Oresteia.”
I felt my brow rise. “The story of the ancient furies?”
He nodded sharply.
“What’s to like about that?”
“Checkmate.” He moved his king to take mine, and my heart dropped.
“You were distracting me.”
“None of it was a lie.”
I frowned, heart thundering. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I searched his face. Satisfaction gleamed in his gaze. He thought he had me.
Now, more than ever, I needed to get the hell out of here.
“Another game,” I said. “Double or nothing.”
“What is the double? Surely you don’t want twice the cure.”
I looked at the window, wondering when Beatrix would show. I needed her as a distraction, now. I couldn’t lose another game.
“Fine, we’ll play for the same thing again,” I said, wanting to keep him in his seat, playing and drinking. “A cure for Mac or another hour of practice time from me.”
He nodded, satisfied. “All right.”
“Great.” I reset the game and he helped, plucking his pieces from the pile at the side of the board. He still wore the thin leather gloves, and I couldn’t help but stare at them.
“Something interesting to you?” he asked, voice rumbling low.
“Why do you always wear the gloves?”
He frowned, clearly not wanting to tell me. So I guessed. “Is it because you don’t want to feel anything, so you button yourself up from head to toe?”
His gaze flickered, and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. “It’s habit.”
“It’s not.”
“Do you want to play or not?”
“Play.” I nodded. “You can go first.”
He moved his piece, and I took my turn. After I moved my pawn, I asked, “You really had no childhood at all?”
“As I said, born from the darkness.”
I frowned. “And that wasn’t terrible?”
Confusion creased his brow, but something tragic flickered in his eyes. “Terrible is different for me than it is for you.”
“But it’s still terrible.” He was trying to distract me from it. Why?
A tiny form flitted past the window.
Beatrix.
I’d have to explore his tragic past later. Or never if this worked out to my advantage.
I slipped the tiny vial of sleeping potion from my pocket and uncorked it with my thumb, letting the stopper fall into my lap. When I gave it to him, he wouldn’t pass out immediately. The apothecary had told me not to freak out when he didn’t seem sleepy. Apparently, he’d appear normal for a while, then go down hard and fast.
A moment later, as if she’d been spying, Beatrix appeared on the windowsill. It had been opened to let in the sea breeze, and she squawked loudly, hopping along the narrow ledge.
Hades frowned and turned to look at her. She squawked again, jumping up, and I took my chance. My hand shot out, and I poured the potion into his whiskey. I’d just jerked my arm back when Beatrix flew back through the window, into the night.
He turned back to me, frowning. “That was odd.”
“Really?” I tried my damnedest to look innocent.
“We don’t have that sort of bird here.”
“Oh?” Oh, shit. “Weird.”
“Very.”
I did my best not to stare at his glass, wondering if he could tell it had been modified. Instead, I pointed to his pieces. “Your turn.”
He nodded and moved a piece. I moved mine. When he reached for his glass to drink, I took my turn, keeping my eyes glued on the chessboard.
When he’d lowered the glass, it was emptier than before.
Oh, thank fates.
I drank some of my water, wishing it were wine, instead. As the game progressed, I watched his eyes, looking for any hint of tiredness. I needed him unconscious if I were to