“If you think you’re going anywhere alone right now,” Grayson told him, “I would encourage you to think again.”
“You want to stay,” Jameson argued. “With Lyra.”
“Lyra would never forgive me if I broke my promise and stayed for her,” Grayson replied. “She’s safe as long as she remains at Hawthorne House, and if I don’t go with you, Lyra Catalina Kane is going to kick my ass. And quite possibly someone else’s. I’m going.”
Jameson threw in the towel on that one and looked from Grayson to Nash. “You’re staying,” he told his oldest brother. “Libby needs you, and while you’re at it, you can make sure Lyra keeps up her end of the deal, that she stays put, where they can’t get her.”
“It’s decided, then,” Xander declared. “I’m going!”
Grayson reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a ring box. He leaned forward and set it on the center console next to Nash. “Give this to Lyra for me and remind her that she and I have a mutual agreement about cliffs. If she calls me an asshole, well, that’s how you’ll know you’ve gotten through to her.” Grayson leaned back in his seat and turned to Jameson. “London?”
Jameson answered the question embedded in that word. “We’re going to see about a racehorse name Lady Monoceros.”
Chapter 66
ROHAN
The money hadn’t taken three days to clear. It had barely taken any time at all. Rohan had what he needed. He just didn’t—and wouldn’t ever again—have Savannah Grayson.
I hope you’re happy, Rohan. I hope that throne of yours is everything you dreamed it would be. And I sure as hell hope you know better than to ever dream of me.
Rohan did know better. He had from the beginning. And now, Savannah had saved him the trouble ofgood-bye.He knew her unexpected benevolence could have been a ruse, an exquisite, vengeful trick both diabolical and divine, aimed at making him step foot in London prematurely, thereby forfeiting his prize. Such a move would have suited Savannah Grayson.Vicious, winter girl.
But somehow, Rohan knew that this was no trick. There was no game here. Savannah had kept her word and then some to advance him the winnings she’d promised. Even in the end—and thiswasthe end—Savannah had not betrayed him.
My terms, Rohan could hear her saying, back in the Grandest Game.No one else’s.
He didn’t even want to know how Savannah had managed to convince her mother to release her trust fund, or how her mother had convinced the lawyers, or what mountains had been moved to make it happen so quickly.
All that mattered was that Savannahhadmoved mountains, and she’d done it so that she couldendthis.End us.Savannah had parted with a fortune to bedonewith him. Forever.
Rohan had never believed in another person before, but it was startlingly simple to believe in all the ways Savannah Grayson hated him now.
All the ways she always would.
The backstreets of London hadn’t changed, and neither had this particular pub or its owner, who visibly paled when he saw Rohan approach the bar. The man had doubtlessly been instructed to make a call if and when he ever saw Rohan again.
Found yourself between a rock and a hard place, have you, old friend?
Of course, Rohan had never really hadfriends. He winked and put the poor sod out of his misery. “Tell you what, mate, get me a drink and go ahead and make that call.”
After Rohan finished his drink, he did everyone involved the courtesy of waiting outside, since this could get messy. Rohan was rather hoping that it would.
Judgmentcame in the form of a boy who moved like shadow itself and carried seven knives, all of them concealedverywell—just not quite well enough to hide them from Rohan.
“You look good, Kier.” Rohan used the lad’s given name, the only one Kier had. Rohan, on the other hand, had very recently acquired a surname, one that Savannah had given him for that paperwork, along with matching identification she’d obtained who knows where.
She’d listed him asRohan Nihil.
Nihillooked like a proper surname. Maybe it even was in some parts of the world, but Rohan knew exactly why Savannah had chosen it.Nihilwas Latin for “nothing.” And that was what Rohan was to Savannah Grayson now.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Kier’s voice had deepened since Rohan had seen the boy last—not that Kier had ever really been a child. He had a page in the Mercy’s staff ledger, same as Rohan, same as every child who grew up in the halls of the Devil’s Mercy.
Horrible secrets in purple ink.
“I am exactly where I ought to be,” Rohan replied.
Kier lunged, and Rohan intercepted knives one and two with only half as much ease as anticipated. The boy really had grown.