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A hand lands on my throat. Hard. He grips my neck and jerks my head backwards so I am looking at him upside down. From this comical angle, his moustache looks ridiculous.
I smile, and I know it makes me look as if I’m crazy, but I don’t care.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” he spits.
I close my eyes. He can’t make me look at him.
With a shove, he lets me go and I jolt forward in my chair. He stays behind me. I feel the air moving as he beats his wings.
“You are losing your mind over your Leafborne boyfriend? Is that what’s happening here?” He drools, lowering his mouth to my ear.
His breath lands, hot and sickly, on my cheek. And then a hand lands on my breast.
“You better pull yourself together and learn how to look happy by the end of the evening or?—”
With a roar, I grab the knife from beside my plate and plunge it into the back of his hand. The one grabbing my chest.
It goes right through, grazing my own skin.
He yells and jerks backwards.
I rise from my chair and splay my arms out sideways. The candles flare. The room flickers with flame.
He looks me up and down, blood dripping from his hand, then he pulls the knife free. “You’ll regret this.”
He stalks towards me.
The candles blaze. Embers fall onto the tablecloth and it catches light.
But then he extinguishes them. One flick of his hand and they are all gone. And an invisible hand is around my throat now.
I stare at him as he comes for me. And when he lifts the knife to my throat, I smile.
SEVENTEEN
Finn
“Why are we not going straight to Luminael?” Yarrow growls. He is pulsing with dark energy, longing to take back what is ours.
“We need to recruit a few more to our army first, Yarrow.”
“Here?” He waves at our surroundings. “You think Mountainside fae will fight with us?”
“No, not here. This is just a nice little rest stop on the way. A chance for us to exercise our newfound strength. To test ourselves.” I pat his back firmly. “Think of it as a training exercise.”
“All right,” he grumbles. “But then where do we find these extra recruits?”
“Of all the creatures in this kingdom,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him, “who could be best persuaded with the promise of power, and money?”
“The elves?” Yarrow mumbles. “They’re not fighters, Finn. Good if you want some sacrificial fodder to go in the first wave, but?—”
“Not the elves,” I tut. “The Gloomweavers, Yarrow. We’re going to recruit the Gloomweavers. And they are going to be delighted to finally have free rein with their cruelty.”
Yarrow begins to smile. He nods approvingly. “Gloomweavers,” he repeats. “Perfect.”
“But for now. ..” I gesture to the trees ahead.
They are adorned with flags and ribbons. Pale pinks, and blues, and yellows, fluttering in the breeze. In the distance, music is playing. The sun is setting. How beautiful.
