His Lordship Possessed
saw
    into the room where Dredmore was being held by the
    Walshes. I vaguely recalled seeing a mirror of the same
    shape on the other side.
    “You trust them so much you have to watch them in
    secret?” I asked as the Talian shoved me down in one of
    the chairs.
    “Be quiet.” He moved to stand behind me and placed
    the knife under my chin.
    I heard Lord Walsh’s voice, and glanced down to see
    where it came from: a small grate at the base of the wall.
    “—my intent from the beginning,” Walsh was saying.
    “Your assaults on Lady Walsh have been entertaining,
    but I cannot fathom why you settled on her as a method
    of getting to me.”
    “I never touched your wife, you daft prick.” Dredmore
    gritted his teeth as Montrose tightened the rope round
    his neck. “Th e Tillers will know what you’ve done. Th e
    moment he begins casting, they’ll come for you. My only
    regret is that I will not be here to watch your carcass
    being dragged from the river.”
    “My dear Dredmore.” Walsh’s face stretched into a
    broad smile. “Th e wardlings that hang about almost every
    neck and door in the city have hearts of dreamstone. I
    know because our Talian friends forged them. Th e Tillers
    won’t even know we’re here.”
    I didn’t know what dreamstone was, nor did I think
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    LYNN VIEHL
    Dredmore could be duped by anyone, but from the look
    on his face Walsh had done the very thing.
    “I take it you lot are Reapers?” I asked the Talian.
    “For a stupid skirt, you know much.” Celestino didn’t
    sound as if he approved.
    “Women in this country have always been vastly
    underrated.” My throat tightened as Walsh took a
    gleaming red stone from a white velvet pouch. “Lord
    Dredmore is insanely wealthy, you know. If I could
    convince you to intervene on his behalf, I can guarantee
    he would see to it that you would never have to dirty your
    hands again with this sort of nonsense.”
    “Oh, miss.” He chuckled. “For this, Zarath will make
    me king of my country.”
    I saw Walsh drop the stone in Dredmore’s hand
    before he took the pistol from his son.
    I reached out to touch the surface of the two-way
    glass. “Lucien.”
    As if he’d heard, Dredmore turned his head to look
    directly at me, put the stone in his mouth, and swallowed.
    At the exact same moment, Lord Walsh placed the pistol
    at his own temple and pulled the trigger.
    Someone screamed—me, I think—and I gripped the
    knife at my throat with my fi ngers and wrenched it out
    of the Talian’s hand. Th e blade cut deep into my fi ngers
    as I ran out and into the room where Lord Walsh’s body
    lay on the fl oor, and his son gagged as he swiped at his
    father’s brains, which were all over the front of his fancy
    jacket as well as the wall behind him.
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    Disench anted & Co., Part 1
    I switched the bloody blade to my left hand, ready
    to use it as I stepped between the men and Dredmore.
    I stepped back until I could reach him. “Lucien, we’re
    leaving.” I reached out and grabbed his sleeve, but he
    didn’t move. “Lucien.”
    Th is time the red streaks of light came out of Lord
    Walsh’s body, fi rst from his slack lips, and then in a
    burst out of the hole in his head. Th ey fl ew past me,
    surrounding Dredmore, who had doubled over, choking
    and heaving. Th e red lights swirled, closing in on him
    until his entire body glowed. At last he stopped fi ghting
    it and slowly stood, and the lights were sucked into the
    darkness of his eyes, dwindling until they were two tiny
    red glints.
    “Dredmore.” I told myself it had been a trick, one of
    his ridiculous illusions. “Say something.”
    He said nothing, but held up one hand and turned it
    over, as if he’d never seen it before. Th en he smiled, his
    face changing into something beautiful and terrible, his
    eyes taking on a horrid red glow. I didn’t even resist as
    the Talian

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