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here?”

A gasp tore from her mouth and she whirled, drawing her knife before it dawned on her that it was Marcus who’d spoken.

He was dressed in the garments of a patrician man, a long tunic and perfectly draped toga, though she noted he had a knife in one hand, which he swiftly slipped away. In the moonlight, his face looked pale and drawn with exhaustion, his eyes slightly swollen, and faintly, she heard a wheeze to his breath. “Are you all right?”

“It’s been a trying evening.”

Belatedly she remembered that this had once been his home. That these people were his family. “What are you doing out here in the dark?”

He was quiet. Then he said, “I was coming to see you.”

“Fairly certain you could’ve come through the front gate.” Though in fairness, she probably could’ve done the same.

Tension hung between them, as though a chasm had split the earth and they stood on opposite sides.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was so soft, she barely heard it.

“Valerius told me you argued with Cassius. Tried to get them to free my people but that the Senate wouldn’t agree to it.” She bit her lip. “I know you did everything you could.”

He didn’t answer, only reached out to take her hand.

“We’ll just find another path.” Fear was rising in her chest, but she wasn’t sure why. “A better one. Then they’ll have to let my people go.”

“Teriana—”

“There’s something I need to ask you,” she interrupted before she lost her nerve. “Valerius believes his daughter was murdered by Cassius—she was supposed to marry him. Do you know anything about it?” Her jaw trembled, and she sucked in a deep breath before adding, “Lydia was my best friend.”

 104KILLIAN

The worst part was not being able to see.

Agrippa had bound his wrists and ankles, but it was the black sack he’d pulled over Killian’s head that was driving him mad, his vision reduced to flickers of light and shadows as the pair led him through Rufina’s fortress. “Best to keep her unaware for as long as possible,” Agrippa had said, and though there was merit to the thought, Killian was starting to wonder if he’d stacked the odds so far out of his favor that not even his mark was going to get him out alive.

“We weren’t expecting you, General,” a voice to Killian’s left said. “We were under the assumption you were to remain in Deadground.”

“You know what they say about assumptions.” Agrippa’s voice was light, but Killian didn’t miss the edge to it. “Now tell Her Majesty I’m here. And that I’ve brought her a gift.”

“Who is he?”

“Not for you, you pus-filled pimple,” Agrippa answered. “Now open the bloody door.”

There was a thud, then the faint creak of a heavy door being opened, and a moment later, Killian heard the speaker say, “General Agrippa is here to see you, Your Majesty. He has a prisoner with him.”

“It had better be a prisoner of note,” Rufina’s voice purred. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

“Walk,” Agrippa muttered, jerking on Killian’s arm. Then he said loudly, “Rufina, my queen. You are a vision, a delight for eyes that have too long been deprived of true beauty.”

“And you are as tedious as always, Agrippa. What are you doing here? I told you to remain in Deadground, though I’ve heard you’ve been doing a fine job ignoring my commands, as usual.”

“I’ve expensive tastes that require funding,” Agrippa answered, and Killian’s arm lifted as the other man shrugged. “For me to remain at your beck and call required some creativity on my part.”

Rufina huffed out an amused breath. “You’re lucky I value your skill set, because removing your tongue holds a certain appeal.”

Killian turned his head, tracking the sound of Rufina’s voice, which came from the far side of the room. A large room, judging from the way their boots echoed.

“All the girls in Deadground thank you for your restraint, Majesty.” Agrippa gave Killian a shove, sending him toppling to his knees. “And as a sign of my continued loyalty to your crown and cause, please accept this gift.”

Boots thudded against the stone floor as Rufina approached, and Killian’s skin crawled with the knowledge that the corrupted queen was within reach. And him powerless to do anything about it. Then a hand caught hold of the sack over his head and yanked it off.

“Well, now,” Rufina said softly. “You really have outdone yourself, Agrippa.”

Blinking against the bright torchlight, Killian’s eyes fixed on Rufina standing before him. Though he knew she was much older, the corrupted queen appeared in her early twenties, with pale skin and black hair that hung nearly to her waist. Her eyes were set at the upturned angle common to those of northern Mudamora, though hers were dilated black pits rimmed with crimson flame. And on her forehead was the mark of Hegeria, the tattooed half-moon faded with age.

“Where is Malahi?” he demanded between his teeth. “What have you done to her?”

“Ahh, but of course. That’s why you’re here.” Rufina smiled. “The Princess. Or is she the Queen? I confess, I can’t keep track of whose head wears the crown of Mudamora these days. Though I do know who rules.”

Her fist caught him in the face hard enough that Killian saw stars as he fell backward.

Then Agrippa was standing between them. “If you could hold on to your restraint a heartbeat longer before you kill him, Majesty, there’s the matter of my compensation.”

Rufina huffed out an aggrieved breath. “You’re the commander of my armies, Agrippa. Bounty hunting is beneath you.”

“Very little is beneath me, Majesty,” Agrippa answered. “Which has long been to your advantage. And I’d add it would also be to your advantage to be seen holding to your word lest your word cease to have any meaning at all.”

The flames around Rufina’s eyes flared, but she reached out and patted Agrippa’s cheek, smirking as he flinched away from her touch. “Very well, Agrippa. What was it I said? A thousand gold coins?”

“Five thousand,” Agrippa answered. “Getting him

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