Façade [Book 2] (Glamour Series)

27 | Secret Fate

Watch your step, keep your eyes peeled. If they catch you spying...

Joe had followed me outside, watching me as I sniff my way to the two young men. My feet had patted, with my flats on, all the way to the first floor. I soon realized that they were talking from the outside, and made myself comfortable beneath the bridge which lead to the Ball. My body was hunched down, behind a bush, as I listened in on their conversation.

"Don't be so naive with me, Oliver. You know what you're doing wrong. Your actions are not that of what a Dead King should take."

"Laurence, I'm doing as I am directed to do."

Laurence, as I saw through the leaves of my bush, takes a step forward and meets Oliver's higher gaze. "Do not lie to me, Oliver. Don't think I know when you leave the perimeters with her at your side. I suggest you do what you are told to do, and commit to it. Stop this nonsense." His voice, although supposed to be a low whisper, radiated threatening and dislodged. "And do not step out of line again."

"Laurence, please, baby, give the man a break. He just wants to spend as much time as he can before we snatch her away, don't you think that's fair? I think it's fair." From behind the water-fountain a woman appears, her hair a mass of fiery red hair. And by fiery, I mean the ends of it flick around like a red wildfire. She is balancing atop the statue at the center of the fountain, a little boy angel, and peering down at Laurence and Oliver.

"Christina," Laurence casually greets: "what do you want?"

She skews an eyebrow upwards, pursing her red stained lips and hmming in sarcastic wonder. "Let me see. I've been stalking a young girl, what was her name? She's the daughter of a very famous Necromancer. Lots of people would pay for such a beauty. Let me see, Elian? No, no, that's not it. It has a much softer sound to it- Iris?"

"Eris." Oliver corrects dryly.

"Oh yes! Little Miss Eris Sangre Meyer."

"What do you want with her?" Oliver pipes up, a growl residing in his throat.

Christina shrugs, "None of your business. Well, not really."

"You will not touch her!"

Christina pretends to look shocked, pressing three fingers to her top lip. "Oh, is wittle Olivy jeawous? Aww! You don't want anyone else to have her? You know I'm right. You can't even share her with poor Laurence. That was the plan, wasn't it?"

From the look on Oliver's and Laurence's faces I could tell they knew something more than I could have guessed. And that exchange alone boiled me over the edge.

Eris, calm down, she could be lying.

I only glance at Joe, who is leaning up against one side of the open pathways on my left, and revert back to the conversation. Why lie to their faces?

"Well, Oliwali, if you ever get over her: I know I wouldn't mind some fae blood to chew on."

"So you're the one behind the attack?"

"Attacks." She pluralized the word. "Yes. I take pride in my workmanship. Although, as suspected, I wasn't alone. You have some un-loyal subjects Mr. Dead King. How long did you think you could manipulate everyone around you? A couple hundred years?"

Laurence crosses his arms over his chest: "Why haven't you just taken her with you?"

Christina hops down from the centerpiece of the water-fountain onto the glistening grass below. Her hair flickers, almost dying out its fire, and ignites further into a blaze of blue. "Because, I take pride in a good fight."

Unconvinced, Laurence stretches his arm out to his side until a bend of the air across his fingers materializes a sword. Oliver does the same.

They were going into battle.