Chapter 23
23
M y face fell and my shoulders slumped as I took in the darkness of a stairwell before me. Nothing glowing, nothing magical. Nothing that felt out of place in this world. Dammit.
The air smelled a bit like him. Like worn parchment and an empty inkpot, like the final tendril of smoke from a snuffed-out candle. I could nearly feel him shuffling up these narrow steps, broad shoulders brushing the sides of the walls as he avoided as many people as possible in his own establishment.
Feeling my way forward, step after step in the dark, my fingers traced over the smooth texture of polished wood until they stumbled upon something smooth and metallic. A brass handle. Holding my breath as if the silence were a fragile glass about to shatter, I pressed down and let the door swing open, the passageway depositing me into Thorne’s dark study.
He stood with his back to me, spinning only when the creak of the door gave me away. His eyes were dark with anger, disappointment etched on every line of his face. “What were you thinking?”
“You know, I was just sitting in the back room thinking, ‘I’d sure like to get my titties out today.’ Those were the exact thoughts in my pretty little mind.”
He stalked forward. I backed away. He took another step, and I moved away again, colliding with the bookshelves. Thorne pressed a hand to my throat, stroking my jawline, though I could feel the anger within the tremble of his fingers. I couldn’t lie, even to myself. I’d needed this fight from him. This anger. Finally, he’d broken. Finally, he’d shown a bit of the rage I’d seen in that alley the day he’d claimed me as his wife. That vulnerability wrapped itself around me like a vice.
“Do not mock me.”
“Mock you? Mock you? I saved your ass with mine.”
“No one asked you to do that.”
I shoved him away. “That’s exactly what you asked me to do. Shall I repeat the pretty face comment you made? The woman that was supposed to come in and dance was caught by Farris for something. Do you seriously think my conversational skills are so good Victor wasn’t going to notice Archer elbow deep in his fucking pockets? Men are so easy. So, so easy. Show them a nipple and suddenly they forget how to string together words.”
He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed with fury.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you watching me,” I said, baiting him. Pushing him. “Don’t think for a second I missed the way you drooled over me dancing. And you know what that means to me? Absolutely nothing. ”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from revealing more about myself. He didn’t need to hear it. I’d be gone soon enough and none of them would matter anyway. But maybe now, he and I could find some genuine common ground. Because the clock was ticking, and I needed to get the fuck out of here.
He stalked forward again, closing the space between us until I was dwarfed by his massive size. He brought a hand up to the bookshelf, shifting his weight until he loomed over me. “Must you lie to me?”
I snorted. “Careful, husband. The conceited man buried in your veins is showing.”
He smiled. Not the handsome dimpled smile, but something far more menacing. “Shall I let him out to play with you, wife? Is that why you’re trying to push me?”
The way the low tone of his voice rumbled sent a wave of something warm and welcome straight through my body.
“Are you angry-flirting with me?”
He leaned closer. Until his glasses no longer reflected the light from the room and all I could feel was the warmth of his breath on my ear as he whispered, “Absolutely. And let’s get one thing straight right now. Everyone knows I do not share. And this body,” he said, skimming a finger down my arm, “belongs to me in public. Should you ever bare it again, I will let my baser instincts win and you will see exactly how a monster devours his prey. Piece by bloody piece.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, both thrilling and terrifying me. I couldn’t let him see how much he affected me though. I had to stay in control.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” I asked, tilting my chin up in defiance.
“Which would you prefer it to be?”
I swallowed hard, pulse racing. The air between us crackled with tension, the kind that could ignite at any moment into an inferno. Part of me wanted to push him further, to see how far I could take this dangerous game. But the rational side of my brain screamed at me to stop playing with fire.
“Neither,” I finally said, ducking to the side to put some distance between us. “But it’s nice to see you rattled in your cage.”
He moved a hand through his dark hair. “And who has the key to put you back in yours?”
I think I hated him. But also, I was pretty sure I didn’t. Still, he had no idea how relevant that question was. Nor that he was the key holder.
Thorne ignored the knocking on his office door as he rolled his white shirt sleeve halfway up his forearm. I was beginning to think that habit of his was to distract his mind. But gods, it distracted me too.
“Take the scowl off your face. You have a part to play.”
“Right,” I glared, baring all of my teeth. “Dangerously obsessive.”
His hands were on me again, gentle, yet pressing as he pushed me back into the bookcase, leaning down to whisper, “Continue to push and you’ll find out just how obsessive I can be.” His breath was hot against my ear, sending another shiver down my spine that I tried, and failed, to suppress.
I smirked, meeting his gaze, even as my heart pounded wildly. “Promises, promises.”
He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing down my arm, the touch as light as a whisper but leaving a blaze in its wake. “Careful. I always keep them.”
I shook my head. “Liars don’t keep their promises.”
Again, a knock came at the door. He crossed the room in four giant strides and yanked the door open. “What?”
“Willard caught Allun cheating again, and he’s holding him at table thirteen.”
With a deep rise and fall of Thorne’s shoulders, he spun to me, holding a hand out. “Come, my darling. There’s no need to spend your whole evening up here. I’d love to show you around.”
And there it was. Just like that, the masks were back on, and we were cascading down the steps, hand in hand, sharing a smile that only he and I knew had fangs. His grip was too tight, my stride too slow. Everything about our official debut into his dark world was a battle. His hand wrapped around mine never faltered though. He never raced forward to embarrass my slow stride. And he never once looked at another woman in the room.
Willard sat at a table in a far corner of the room with another man, similar in age and handsome features. Harlow stood behind Will and though he wasn’t part of the confrontation, Archer leaned against the bar across the way, watching as he casually sipped his liquor.
“Caught this one cheating again,” Willard grunted, jerking his thumb towards Allun. “Thought you might want to handle it personally.”
Thorne’s grip on my hand tightened almost imperceptibly as he leaned in close to Allun. “Is that so? And here I thought we had an understanding, Newcomb. You know how I feel about cheaters and thieves. Especially on my wife’s first visit. This isn’t a way to welcome her, is it?”
Allun’s mouth worked soundlessly, his face growing paler by the second. He shrank under Thorne’s withering gaze. Licking his lips, he glanced around as if hoping for a miraculous savior. He pulled the tall hat from his head and loosened his tie. “I’ve had too much to drink, is all.”
“Don’t embarrass yourself. See yourself out and don’t come back or I’ll make a personal request to our beloved prince and see that your entire household is brought to justice.”
Every shade of color melted from the man’s face as he swallowed. He slowly rose from his seat, leaving the pile of chips in front of him as well as his hat behind. “S-Sorry, Thorne.”
We stood side by side as the man ran from the building. Thorne motioned for the little band set up near the bar to begin playing again, and then led me across the room toward a section that had been roped off. He unclipped the rope and pulled me toward him, lifting my hand to kiss the ring that sat on my finger. I held my breath, waiting for him to end his little show, but he knew it. And it gave him fuel to keep going. “Smile, Paesha darling. The whole world is watching.”
I sauntered forward, sliding my hands up his chest, moving to my tip toes. “Fetch me a drink, husband. It’s going to be a long night if I’m to be stuck back here with you.”
He laughed. Far too loud and far too long, but eventually, once I’d slid down onto the leather couch like an obedient wife, he walked away. I hadn’t realized how much he’d been blocking my view of the room until his shadow was gone and I could feel every single pair of curious eyes studying me. I leaned back, studying nails that were in desperate need of a manicure until he returned. Drinks in hand.
“When was the last time you served someone in your little fun house?”
He smiled genuinely this time, his dimple showing. “This would be a first.”
I took the glass of clear liquid and lifted it toward him. “To your good health then, my darling. May your meals always be warm and your wife, never lethal.”
“What?” he asked for the third time in the carriage on the way home.
“I’ve already told you, it’s nothing.”
“No one’s ever told you how horrible of a liar you are, and it shows.”
“That’s not true at all. I’m an excellent liar. I just don’t want to talk to you.”
He sat back, the simple adjustment of his body causing the carriage to rock. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
He pulled a small book from his coat pocket and opened it. Though it was far too dark in the carriage for light reading, somehow he managed, turning pages by moonlight all the way to his house. I rubbed my hands together, staring out the window, feeling pulled down a path I knew I needed to walk but really only wanted to get to the end of.
I closed my eyes and thought of Thea. Wondered what she might be doing now. Was it nighttime at home? Had Elowen cooked dinner for the Syndicate? Had they rallied around Quill to make her feel better? My poor girl. She had so many that loved her, and though she was almost nine, it was still such a tender age to feel so abandoned on a repeated cycle. Left behind by her parents, passed on by a brothel owner, used by a crime lord. I’d done my best with her. Gave her the love and attention I’d known from my own father before he’d left me. But the realms would fall to Quill’s fury, so I supposed nothing I had done mattered. Only what I would do.
So I sucked it up, pulled my head back into Wisteria and forced myself into a plan. I needed Thorne to need me as much as I needed him. And there was a very clear path. He just needed to be the one to see it. He liked his own mind too much to rely on the requests of others.
“A key?”
Thorne put his book down, looking at me over the top of his glasses. “Oh, we’re talking now?”
“Yes.”
“About a key.” I paused. “And a broach, a pearl necklace, emerald studded cufflinks, a bag of betting chips, and oddly enough, a gold tipped walking cane.”
He looked away, taking note of the items as I listed them. “How’d you know?”
“Because your little thieves? They aren’t that clever. Most of them have tells right before they take something. Harlow always sweeps her eyes around the room. It’s subtle, but foolish. If she catches the eye of one person a second too late, she’s caught. Archer? He’s good. But he keeps his hands in his pockets so much, people are going to start wondering if he’s really just playing with himself down there. But when he’s pulling a job, he doesn’t do it. He makes sure his hands are out, but not flipping his coin. It’s out of character for him. And Willard. Don’t get me started on that guy. He’s a crasher. Every time. Which is fine on the streets. Someone bumps into you, goes on about their business. No big deal. They don’t figure out what’s missing until later. But if your patrons start talking, swapping stories, it’s not going to take long before they realize they all had a run in with Wee Willy.”
“Clever little fox, aren’t you?”
I shook my head before staring out the window. “No. I’m not trying to show off, Thorne. You’re going to get caught. As my friend Thea would say, you have too many irons in the fire and you’re missing the small details.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, just as the carriage came to a stop. He crawled out and held a hand up to help me.
After we were out, he walked to the front and tossed the driver a small bag. “Thanks Tuck. Any news from Tilly?”
“Nothing new. Farris is circling. We’re watching.”
“One of ours was pulled for testing tonight. Emaline. The Cimmerians must have caught her doing something.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“That’s all for me tonight.”
“See you tomorrow,” Tuck said, clicking his tongue just before the horses sped away.
As if he’d only just realized, Thorne turned back to me and said, “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned someone from your past.”
“Don’t get used to it. That life is gone now.”
Protected. Locked away in my heart to keep them all safe.
The second carriage, the one that’d been following us, approached. Harlow, Archer and Willard crawled out and followed us inside. Shedding our coats at the door, we nestled into the sitting room, sinking into the couches. Harlow plopped down beside Willard, leaning on him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Archer paid them little more than a glance. He took the leather chair opposite of Thorne’s, propping his leg up on his knee as he checked his watch. I sat alone, waiting to be dismissed. Aching to take my boots off and get into the bath.
Thorne settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he surveyed the room. I expected him to launch into a lecture about the flaws I’d pointed out, to dissect each mistake with surgical precision. But instead, he simply gave Archer a pointed look.
The blond man reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a brown paper package tied with a bit of twine. With deft fingers, he unraveled the knot, and the paper fell away, revealing an exquisite snuff box nestled in his palm.
The box was a work of art, gleaming silver embellished with intricate filigree that caught the firelight. A large emerald was set into the center of the lid, glinting with a mesmerizing depth of color. “Well done, Archie.”
Archer preened slightly under the praise. “Snagged it right out of the old codger’s pocket, thanks to Paesha here.” I didn’t miss the blush that crossed his face as he looked anywhere but at me.
Thorne cleared his throat, his eyes locking on to mine. “No need to revisit that foolish choice.”
“Oh!” Harlow sat forward, suddenly far more engaged. “I heard Emaline was caught by a Cimmerian on her way in tonight. They say she cursed the prince and hit a guard.”
Archer’s face turned grim. “Talbot reported just as we were leaving. She failed her test and she’ll be marked in the morning.”
Thorne pushed a hand through his dark hair. “Best let Tuck know. I hadn’t heard the update.”
I couldn’t ask what they were talking about without raising more questions about me. Whatever was happening was common knowledge, so I just had to sit back and take in enough context clues to figure it out. But I couldn’t draw attention by silence. This game was a fine line.
I sat forward, matching Harlow’s posture. “It seems strange that Farris is given so much power when his father is still around.”
Willard snorted. “You’d be hard pressed to find someone that disagreed with that. It’s unfortunate really. How well King Wendale has been cut off from the kingdom.”
Whatever playfulness I’d learned to expect in Archer’s voice had vanished, replaced by little more than a growl as he set the box on the coffee table between us and stood. “What I don’t understand is why the people, his people , aren’t forcing their way in. If he knew, he wouldn’t stand for what’s happening on the streets.”
“You think too highly of him, brother,” Harlow said, her tone careful. “There’s no way he doesn’t know what’s happening. He’s given up. You’re going to have to accept that.”
The boyish features in Archer’s face faded away with his glare toward his sister. “I will not, and neither should you.”
“King and prince aside, we need to talk about Alastor,” Thorne said, breaking the tension. “We need better deals with the Vale.”
“Oh yes, because gods are so much easier than the monarchy,” Harlow said with a sigh.
Gods? Alastor was a god?
But I knew that name. I held my breath, sinking into the couch, hoping my face hadn’t given me away.
“Alastor runs the black market, Paesha. He’s ruthless but the only avenue we have to sell our stolen goods without eyes looking back at us. The problem is, he won’t deal with me directly. No member of the Fray may do trade with Alastor. He’s forbidden it.” Thorne said. “We’ve constantly got to work with a middleman, who takes a cut of the money.”
“And the annoying part is,” Willard continued, putting his elbows on his knees as he sat forward. “Alastor knows he’s still dealing with us. He’s forcing us to give these middlemen cuts, just to take away from our profits. Which is only hurting the Salt.”
“He’s going to be tough to bargain with. Even with that,” Thorne said, pointing at the stolen box with his chin. “We’ll need you for negotiations, Archie.”
“I know you want me to do this, boss, but I think the best I’m going to be able to pull from him is a meeting.”
“Use the artifact from Farris’s Tithe carriage to lure him in. The man that built that carriage wants the artifact back because Farris stole it, and Alastor knows it. He’ll get a good price for it. When you meet with Alastor to give him the artifact, tell him I need a meeting. If he agrees, give him the box you stole tonight.”
“And if he doesn’t? If I try to walk out of there with that thing, you’re going to find my head on a pike in Prospector’s Pointe.”
Thorne stood, walking over to a large hutch sitting against the far wall. He opened the door, reached all the way to the back, engaged a mechanism, and a hidden drawer popped out of the side. He crossed the room and handed Archer a matching box from the drawer. “If he denies you, give him this one instead. And then get the hell out of there as fast as you can.”
The power that typically sat dormant within me until I called it forward rumbled to life. The urge to touch both of those items, to mark them before they vanished, was pressing, suffocating. Desperate.
I didn’t hesitate, jumping from my seat to sweep the original box from where it lay on the table. I smoothed a finger over the carving first, and then the emerald, bigger than any stone I’d ever seen.
Thorne’s fingers closed over the snuff box seconds later. I hadn’t even registered his movement. “Careful wife. Not every treasure is meant for mortals.” He looked at me as if he’d really seen me in that moment. As if he’d known the way my power ached for rare trinkets. But also as if he knew he couldn’t trust me. Which was absolutely true.
“If you already had the replica, why not bait him with that one?” Harlow asked.
“Alastor isn’t a fool. There’s a reason he runs the Vale. If he touches this, even looks at it close enough, he’ll know it’s not real.” Thorne held the other box out for me, as if he knew how badly I wanted to see it. “Can you see the difference, Paesha darling?”
Harlow took my side, studying the replicated box just as I did. Similar in weight and finish, they were nearly identical. But Thorne wasn’t wrong. There was a difference, something so subtle, I almost missed it.
“They look and feel exactly the same,” Harlow said, touching both boxes.
“Do you agree?” Thorne asked, his eyes swallowing me whole as he waited. As if this had been an unspoken test and I couldn’t fail.
“No.” I answered, moving back to my seat. “He’ll know the difference.”
With a nod of approval, Thorne handed both to Archer. “Keep the real one wrapped in paper, so you don’t mix them up. And for the love of all the gods, do not open them.”
“Why?” he asked, eyes wide as he shoved each of them into different pockets.
“That’s not what’s important here. Just do as I ask and mind your words carefully. We need this meeting. Our food stores are too low.”
“I could go with?” Willard offered. “If you’re nervous about it.”
“He’ll manage,” Thorne answered, moving toward the door. “It’s time to call it a night.”
“Agreed.” Harlow followed close behind, turning back to Willard. “Walk me home tonight. I’m too tired to keep to the shadows and I don’t want to deal with the Cimmies.”
Archer rubbed his hands together. “No need to bother Wee Willy, Harlot. I can drop you off first. I’ll head to the Vale from there.”
“Don’t call him that,” she said from behind a clenched smile.
“Aw.” Archer punched Willard on the arm. “Willy knows nicknames are my love language, don’t you, bud?”
Willard shared a friendly smile. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Thorne’s friends didn’t dawdle, and I was grateful for that. It’d been a long day. As Thorne walked past me and up the stairs, I spun and wandered down the hall to his office, studying the spines of his collection of books. I chose three and slunk heavily to my room.
I unlaced the corset on the back of my dress and let it pool at my feet near the door, leaving me in just my thin silk chemise. Padding into the adjoining bathroom, I turned on the faucet, sending steaming water gushing into the large clawfoot tub.
I perched on its porcelain edge, trailing my fingers through the silky water. When the bath was nearly full, I shut off the water and shed my remaining clothes. Sinking into the deliciously hot water, I let out a sigh of pure bliss. The heat seeped into my bones, unwinding the tension from my muscles. I lay there for what seemed like an hour, ignoring the knocking on my door, and Thorne’s gruff voice informing me he’d left dinner on the bed.
As the bath water grew tepid, I reluctantly emerged, my pruney fingers trailing droplets across the plush bath rug. Wrapping myself in an oversized, fluffy towel, I walked back into the bedroom, and to my surprise, all of my clothing was gone. The wardrobe doors hung open, revealing only bare hangers where the few things I’d collected had been. I searched the room, checking in drawers and under furniture, the towel clutched tightly to my chest. But my clothes were simply gone, vanished.
A flicker of suspicion ignited.
Thorne… two could play at that game.
Clad in nothing but the damp towel, I stormed out of the room, dripping water down the hall. Without hesitation, I raised a fist and pounded on his door.
“Yes?” he crooned softly, swinging the door open as if he’d been waiting for me. His eyes made a slow pass down my body, and honestly, I couldn’t tell if he hated his inability to control that hungry look in his eyes or if he hoped for it.
“Where are my clothes?” I demanded, trying to ignore the way his intense gaze made my pulse race.
A lazy smirk curved his lips. “Clothing seems rather optional now, wouldn’t you say?”
I glared at him. “You’re such a fucking prick.”
“You might’ve mentioned that before.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, tightening my grip on the towel. “Don’t play games with me. I know you took them. Give them back.”
He pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, invading my personal space. The heat radiating from his body mingled with the lingering warmth from my bath, making my skin tingle. “And why would I do that? I think I enjoy seeing you like this.”
I dropped my grip on the towel and let it fall to the floor in a heap. Thorne’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating with unmistakable desire as his gaze raked over my naked body, lingering on the curves of my breasts. He swallowed hard.
I took a step closer, reaching up to shut his gaping mouth with a finger. “Take a good, long look because you’re never going to see this again.” With a defiant tilt of my chin, I turned on my heel and sauntered back down the hallway, slamming my door so hard one of his precious paintings crashed to the floor.