For right now, the specifics didn’t matter. The hatred I’d seen etched into Casimir’s features in the Tusk told me enough.
“You may not like the consequences of this bargain,” he said, his starry eyes darkening as they bore into mine.
“I can handle it,” I insisted.
“Alright, Farrow,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’ll make a deal with you. But I have conditions.”
I suppressed a groan. Of course, he had freakingconditions.
“First, you will swear not to tell anyone else what we’re up to. Trust goes both ways, you know.”
I sighed impatiently, but nodded.
“Second,” he continued, “Our agreement will be binding. We will seal it with a pact that cannot be broken by either party until all the tenets of the agreement are reached. Do you understand?”
I faltered. “What do you mean, binding? Like a contract?”
His smile was slow and impish. Almost wicked. “Yes, Farrow. Exactly like a contract. It will be verbally binding.”
“Alright,” I agreed, feeling more than a little uneasy. I didn’t like the sly edge to his expression. “What do you want me to say?”
He tilted his head, surveying me thoughtfully before stamping out his cigarette. “Swear that you will not interfere with my plans to dismantle the Order. You will not speak about the Order, or share details of our collaboration with anyone else, except in circumstances where your life is in danger. You will be my helpful little ally, and vow not to become a burden.”
I glowered at him with the full force of my rage. “How—You—I am not a burden!” I burst out.
He shrugged, that insufferable smirk still slashed across his lips. “Do you want my help or not?”
I shifted uncomfortably. The dynamic between us had flipped, and suddenly, Casimir had the upper hand. “Fine,” I ground out. “I promise?—”
“Ah, ah, state your full name please,” he interjected. “Your true name.”
I ground my teeth together in frustration. Of course he would use information I’d given in confidence against me. I started again, “I, Arden Farrow Flynch, promise not to speak about or interfere with Casimir’s work dismantling the Order. In exchange for his help, I will tell him my secret, with the understanding that he will never speak of it to anyone else. Nor will I speak of the Daemons or the Order, except in circumstances where my life is in danger. I will be his ally, and vow not to become a burden.Exceptin the case of Casimir being a stupid and insufferable prick. Happy?”
As soon as I spoke the words, something metallic rolled across my tongue. Like a trace of quicksilver, it dissipated almost as quickly as I discerned it.
“I have one other condition,” he said.
I squinted at him, instantly suspicious.
“If things go south, you will obey me. I don’t care what the circumstances are, if August is broken and bleeding on the ground, if I tell you to go, you will go. Understood?”
Obey him?I didn’t like the sound of this condition at all. But I couldn’t see a way around it, so I sighed and repeated the words. When I was finished, another sliver of metal danced across my tongue. I must have been imagining it. I arched an impatient brow at Casimir. “Your turn,” I said.
“I, Casimir Wrayburn,” he drawled, “promise to help Arden Farrow Flynch stop the Order from completing a ritual that will more than likely end in the demise of her moronic ex-boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. “Is that it?”
He nodded and, smirking wryly, reached out a hand to shake mine. Tentatively, I took it. At the contact, a sudden pain jolted across my inner thigh. I dropped Casimir’s hand.
“Ouch!” I swore, yanking up the fabric of my skirt. I froze when I understood the cause of the pain. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A tendril of moonlight from a nearby window illuminated seven letters seared into my flesh.
Casimir.
His name. His fucking name. Branded on my body.
On my thigh.
7