The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,120

ask me,” the duke drawls.

Shadow’s eyes are wide with fear. She cannot move. He can almost hear her thoughts in his head. If only he could make out what she’s trying to tell him.

“Let her go,” says Cal, his mind racing. All is not lost, not yet.

What is Shadow trying to tell him? He can’t quite make out the words.

The duke laughs. “It’s over, Holt. By tomorrow Renovia will be mine again. I tire of this conversation. Jander, take care of him.”

Another, smaller figure comes into the light. The young, mute stable boy from Deersia. Jander walks closer to Cal, his mouth set in a grim line.

He raises his blade, but instead of striking Cal, he turns quickly and slashes at the duke, cleaving the finger that wears the obsidian ring.

The ring. Cal realizes now that was what Shadow was trying to tell him. Get the ring.

Jander had heard her instead.

The duke roars and sends Jander flying across the balcony, slamming the boy’s body against the wall so that Cal can hear bones break. The small body falls to the ground with a thud. But the duke’s hold is broken. Shadow wrenches the obsidian collar from her neck and collapses.

Now the duke turns to her, raising his hand and sending a powerful force to obliterate her, just as he did Jander, but Shadow recovers and holds her hands high, sending the shock force back to the duke.

“Cal!” she screams. “Now!”

The duke staggers back but recovers quickly and raises his arms once more. Yet he is not quick enough. Cal doesn’t hesitate. He is fast and deadly and merciless. He has his dagger drawn. He stabs the duke once, twice, three times, straight through the heart.

He is the Queen’s Assassin, the protector of Renovia, and his blade is swift and true. The duke falls to the ground, dead.

Cal runs to check on Shadow, who shakes him off. “I’m all right. My aunts’ talisman slowed the duke down a little. But Jander—help Jander.”

Jander lies prostrate on the floor. Cal puts his fingers to the boy’s neck. There is a pulse. “Stay with me, Jander.” He tries to keep him present. “Fight it.”

But Cal knows that in truth, the boy is mortally wounded.

“I have lived long enough,” Jander says. His voice is as raspy as an old man’s. His face begins to waver, change. He grabs Cal’s shirt. “Listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” Cal tells him.

“Duke Girt. Whatever he calls himself now.”

“Yes?”

“You have to burn his mortal flesh.”

Cal nods. “Because he is a shapeshifter.”

Jander shakes his head impatiently. “No. No . . . Caledon, he is more than that. You must burn his body with the fire of Deia. Or he’ll return. He always comes back.”

Cal’s body goes strangely still. A chill runs up his back, and gooseflesh, along with an overwhelming vertigo. He wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of his mouth. The duke is not just a shapeshifter, but the return of the immortal demon, a monster of legend, a monster who has stalked Avantine for centuries.

“Yes,” he promises. He will burn the duke’s body with the white fire of Deia. It is the only way. But right now he wants to keep Jander here, alive, with him, though he can tell the boy—is he really a boy?—is being pulled away toward Deia.

“Who are you really?” Cal asks, then realizes that is the wrong question once more. “What are you?”

“Cursed,” answers Jander sadly. “I was cursed by the king long ago. But if you burn his body I will be free.” He grabs Cal’s shirt and tries to pull himself up somewhat, into more of a sitting position. “Hurry. Take the body, burn it.” He starts coughing, hacking blood. Specks of red splatter on the glass doors.

Shadow comes to kneel by them, puts a hand on Cal’s shoulder. They huddle together, Cal holding Jander’s body in his arms, when a scream pierces the air.

Duchess Girt is standing at the doorway, shaking, mouth