In the physical world, I felt him stiffen. But if Luther fought me again, I didn’t even notice. The wererat wouldn’t move now—the morsels never did, once they felt my claws buried in their brains. I knew his companions wouldn’t risk attacking me, either.
I’d learned much from that single, brief touch, the most important being Luther had no phobias, just as it had been with Gwyn of the Wild Hunt. It made sense, really. When you were a massive shapeshifter with a supernatural healing ability, it stood to reason that you’d let go of those small fears most people had. I’d expected this, but I had allowed myself to hope I wouldn’t have to resort to what came next. To using my power in a way that always pushed me toward the edge of something.
Seeing no hope for it, I went right up to that edge.
I began rifling through the Rat King’s head like someone at a garage sale. I soon learned that he was more intelligent than I’d realized. His thoughts and memories were chaotic, but I could sense the essence of him, who he was, and it was obvious Luther Knopf hadn’t obtained his throne through sheer brutality and strength—he’d used cunning, too. It was a story I would’ve liked to know, but there was no time for that. I kept going.
It didn’t take long to find the memory I needed; terror emanated from it like a light or a beacon. Following Luther’s example, I didn’t hesitate.
In an instant, I discovered the Rat King was afraid of the sky.
He’d spent decades avoiding wide, open spaces. The wererat had been alive during World War II, and when bombs fell on Berlin, he’d watched his mother die. I winced and hurriedly retreated from the memory of her broken body, trapped beneath a pile of debris. After that, young Luther had gone into the ground, and he’d barely left it since.
I wasn’t so cruel as to make him relive those terrible moments again, but I still had a point to make.
In the space of a blink, the Rat King and I both stood on the street where it happened. Stars shone above our heads. Structures loomed on either side—they looked residential, but they weren’t shaped like the houses I was familiar with—and the night was quiet.
“What is this? Where are we?” Luther hissed, his eyes darting around us. His fangs were elongated and his face slightly misshapen. The rat was coming out as a response to his fear. I could taste it on the air, sharp and tangy, like an underripe orange.
“We’re in your mind,” I told the Rat King. He said something in German, his tone sharp. Normally I didn’t speak German, but we were in his head, his memory, and I understood the words easily this time. I am going to skin you alive, he’d said. I gave Luther a bored look. “You can try. I’ll have you blubbering like a baby before you can so much as touch me.”
“What do you want?” he asked, in English this time. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye that promised vengeance whenever the opportunity arose, and it was clear I’d added yet another enemy to the ever-growing list of names in my head.
I tilted my head as I had seen Laurie do a hundred times, but there was nothing pleasant in my voice as I said, “I want to leave these tunnels with my friends tonight, alive and completely unharmed. Which means you’ll have to fetch that healer. I should warn you, though, if Laurie dies I won’t have anything to lose, and you don’t want to see me like that.”
Before Luther could respond, I smiled again, allowing him to glimpse the ferocity I’d let out like a lion from a cage. It was the part of me that had killed everyone in the black market and made ancient faeries cringe away in fear. The part of me Gwyn had liked. The part of me Dracula had wanted for his elite force of soldiers.
The part of me that I was fucking terrified of.
I didn’t let any of this show on my face, of course—Luther only saw the mask of the Unseelie Queen. He stood there, a hulking shape against the dark horizon, his expression mutinous. When it became evident that he didn’t intend to speak, I lifted my hand and flicked two fingers. The sound of planes immediately sounded in the distance. It was dramatic, maybe, but very effective; I could already taste Luther’s terror on my tongue. The flavor reminded me of smoke. I hadn’t intended to go this far, and the fact that I was willing to give up a piece of my soul to save Laurie was something I would need to think about later.
For now, my only focus was on breaking the Rat King of Munich.
“Your choice is simple, and the clock is ticking,” I said over the ominous hum. Screams began to pierce the night, as well. Beads of sweat formed on Luther’s forehead, visible even in the dimness. I raised my voice to continue, “I will spare your life if you save Laurie’s and allow us to go free! What is your answer? Tick tock, Your Majesty.”
The wererat still didn’t respond—his eyes were on the sky. His heart was beating so rapidly that I could see it in his throat, a feathery movement that made me think of a rodent scrabbling for cover. When he still said nothing, I quirked a brow, and the first bomb fell. It decimated a building farther down the street and it felt like the entire city quaked.
Luther paled. “Fine. Yes. I agree to your terms. Now get us out of here, you wench.”
My eyes narrowed, and I could almost hear Collith’s weary sigh as I flexed my power. In the next moment, the bombs were falling all around us, making the ground explode in violent bursts of cobblestone and dirt. The whine of the airplanes was so loud that it nearly drowned out the sound of Luther bellowing for his mother, and he whirled to run.
Satisfied, I ended the illusion and retracted from Luther’s mind.
Back in the rank sewer tunnel, the silence around us was so profound that it seemed like no one was breathing. As if they hadn’t dared to for the entire time he’d been in my grasp.
Once again displaying his exceptional ability to adapt, Luther wasted no time. Turning his back on us, the Rat King directed his attention to a female standing in the mouth of another tunnel. He released a string of deep, terse German. The female listened to him speak, and her eyes widened with every word that came out of Luther’s mouth. When he was finished, she responded instantly, her voice full of disbelief. Whatever she saw in the king’s face made the other wererat pale. She quickly bowed and backed away.
After that, there was nothing else to do but wait. I returned to my companions, tense and jittery with power. I wanted to use it again. And again. And again.
My gaze flitted past Gil, then darted back to him. He gave me a knowing look, a look that said he felt the same urges. With half his face covered in blood, he was the picture of savagery. I could still feel that telltale tingle in my eyes. What a twisted pair we make, I thought.
Even more twisted was how grateful I was that I wasn’t alone in this unique, dark struggle.
Mercifully, the healer didn’t take long. Within minutes, a very pregnant wererat emerged from the mass of faces, eyes, and tails. She wore a black dress that looked like something I might find at a boutique store, with charming frills along the sleeves and chest. Her brown hair was gathered in a thick braid, and her round, pale face radiated a calm that I could only dream of feeling. She spotted Laurie straightaway and waddled over to him, paying no heed to the dirty water. Her dark skirt trailed through it like a macabre wedding train.
The sound of my voice made her pause. “If you try to double cross me, or harm him in any way, I won’t choose mercy,” I said.