House of Dragons (Royal Houses 1)

That night, five years ago, when she had been beaten in the alley and had her first vision, her magic had exploded like that as well. She had been the one to knock out the Fae who were going to kill her. And all along, Dozan had let her believe that he had saved her. That she’d been about to die and he’d killed everyone to keep them from hurting her. Dozan… who had never done anything magnanimous in his entire life. Now, she knew the truth. He’d done it because she had power… power that even she didn’t know what it was or how to control it. And then she had been stupid enough to tell him about her vision that night.

“What is it?” Clover asked, reading her face all too well.

“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head. “But we have to go to Black House.”

Kerrigan cringed even saying the words. She knew what Clover’s response would be, but it was her only lead from the weapons deal. Her only chance to find out who the assassin was.

Clover paled. “You can’t go in there, Red.”

“Well, not until Fordham is well at least.”

Clover looked like she was going to argue further when a groan came from Fordham. Kerrigan rushed to his side. Fordham’s eyes opened, and his body went rigid.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Then, her face appeared before him, and he scrunched up his brow. “What are you doing in here, halfling?”

Clover opened her mouth to protest the name, but Kerrigan didn’t even feel the bite in it anymore.

“Well, princeling,” she said, giving the sass right back, “you tried to die.”

“Sounds like me,” he grumbled.

“Sinead healed you, and you should be better. You just need rest. Not like you’re going to do that.”

“Probably not.”

“But you made it through to the final task.”

He lifted himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

Kerrigan made a yelp of protest. “What part of rest don’t you understand?”

“I’ve rested,” he simply said.

“Your magic.”

He blew her hair out of her face with a small puff of air. “Is back.” His eyes found Clover’s. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” she said with a grin.

He looked back to Kerrigan. “Are all your friends like this?”

“Pretty much,” Kerrigan conceded. “And she’s here because we didn’t show up at the Wastes last night. Now, she’s trying to convince me not to go to Black House.”

He put his head in his hands. “What’s Black House?”

“It’s where Clare said they took the weapons last night. I think it must be their headquarters,” Kerrigan told him.

Clover shook her head. “It’s an old, haunted orphanage, where they experimented on children and then drowned them in bathtubs.”

Fordham looked up skeptically. “That sounds pleasant.”

“It’s all superstition.”

“For a reason,” Clover shot back.

“Are you saying there are ghosts?” Fordham asked. “Real ghosts?”

Clover shrugged. “No one goes inside, but the house makes weird noises, and on the Night of the Dead, anyone who walks in there… doesn’t come out.”

Kerrigan laughed. “We’ll be fine but only after you’re rested.”

Fordham rose to his considerable height. “I’m rested,” he repeated.

“Sinead said—”

“I’m rested,” he growled.

“All right,” she said with an arched eyebrow. Then, she stepped forward and kicked him in the shin.

He cursed sharply. “What the hell?”

“Don’t scare me like that,” she told him.

He just looked down at her, and something passed between them. Whatever joking anger had always been there was replaced by something she couldn’t explain. That same feeling she’d had in the thunderstorm last night and when she’d reached for him before the start of the tournament. Heat.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

Clover cleared her throat. “You two are actually going to go into Black House… at night?”

“You don’t have to come with us if you’re scared, Clove,” Kerrigan told her.

Clover crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not scared.”

“Then we’ll go tonight,” Fordham said.

And neither of them disagreed with him. Though neither could keep from shivering at the prospect.

32

The Black House

Despite all her bluster about not being afraid, Kerrigan had never been reckless enough to go into Black House. Certainly not at night. Lyam had dared her on more than one occasion, but even Lyam hadn’t followed through with it. The farthest they’d made it was up the creaky stairs to touch the door. And even that felt impossible tonight with the clouds obscuring the moon and the stars. Darkness swept in, total and absolute.

“This feels like a big mistake,” Clover whispered from the front lawn of Black House.

It used to be a reputable area, somewhere between the Dregs and the Central, but since it had fallen into legend, the Dregs had swallowed it up.

“It’s going to be fine,” Kerrigan bluffed.

“You two actually believe there are ghosts?” Fordham asked again in disbelief. Apparently, ghosts were too far-fetched for him. He hadn’t heard the entire house rattle on the Night of the Dead.