“Why me?” I demand. “Why wouldn’t Main de Lumière just have you go after one of the other queens?”
For the first time, he looks genuinely surprised. “Because of how powerful you are, of course.”
“But Peregrine and Chloe are way more powerful than I am,” I protest in confusion. “I’m only just beginning to learn.”
He studies me for a moment then laughs in disbelief. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls, jerking my head to the side so hard that I wince in pain. He holds the knife to my throat. “It’s because of your father, stupid.” I can see him searching my face to discern whether I know what he’s talking about.
“Drew, I don’t know my dad,” I say desperately. “You know that.”
“I thought you were lying,” he says, almost to himself. “Well, you may as well hear the truth since you’re about to die anyhow. Your deadbeat father is a very powerful king in the world of dark magic.”
My heart thumps against my chest as I wait for him to say more.
“He’s the leader of a sosyete in Georgia that practices andaba, which is like zandara, except they use bones instead of flowers to commune with spirits, and men have the power instead of women.”
“That can’t be true. My aunt would have told me. Someone would have told me.”
“Apparently not. Your dad fell in love with your mom, married her, and boom, you were conceived. Her sister queens didn’t trust him, though, and he didn’t trust them. He thought they were irresponsible with how they practiced magic, the way they were so generous with themselves and so inconsiderate of those less fortunate.”
“Less fortunate people like you and your mom,” I whisper.
Drew steps closer and his expression grows more menacing. He presses me against the wall and draws a small line across my chest with his knife. I gasp in pain as my own blood streams, hot and wet, down my robe.
“You know nothing about my mother,” he growls. “Let’s just get that straight.”
I’m already feeling light-headed. I struggle to maintain my composure. “Go on,” I manage.
“The three queens—your mom, Peregrine’s mom, and Chloe’s mom—were actually close to listening to your dad and changing their selfish little ways,” Drew continues. “And then one day, he just up and left. He left your mom; he left you. And they realized he was using them, drawing on their power to enhance his.”
“That can’t be true,” I say. “My mother loved him until the day she died.”
“Then your mother was a pretty stupid woman. Face it, Eveny, you and your mom didn’t mean anything to your dad.”
The words cut deep. “But he came back,” I protest. “He promised to look after me.”
Drew guffaws. “Well, he’s doing a superb job of that right now, isn’t he?” He presses me against the wall and holds the knife just below my collarbone. “You see this?” he asks, nicking the skin of my chest with the tip of his blade. He pulls the knife against my skin, and I watch dully as he opens up a large wound. A thick trail of blood begins its steady descent down my body.
“This blood,” he continues, staring at the wash of crimson sliding down my chest, “makes you the most powerful queen in the world. You’re the only one we’ve ever known who has a king for a father and a queen for a mother. There’s no telling how powerful you could be if properly trained. But right now? I have all the power, and you have none. And when I kill you, I’ll be restoring balance to the world. I’ll be a hero.”
“Don’t you understand that I agree with you? We made some mistakes, but now I’m trying to make things right.”
Drew snorts. “By performing your most powerful ceremony of the year?”
“It wasn’t to gain anything for ourselves! It was only to protect Carrefour against Main de Lumière!”
“You really think I’m that stupid? Eveny, it was to gather favors so your sosyete could continue to make themselves richer and us poorer.”
“That’s not true.” My voice is growing weaker. The world around me is starting to swim. “Was it you who killed Glory?” I whisper.
He looks down instead of meeting my gaze. “She figured out who I was. I was trying to turn her to our side, and it went wrong.”
“But she was your friend,” I say.
“So are you, supposedly. But I’m afraid that doesn’t change a thing,” he says casually. He looks at his watch and sighs heavily. “I’m afraid we’re nearly out of time. It’s been nice knowing you, Eveny, it really has. But you’re an abomination of nature. You’re of the devil. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.”