Chapter Seventeen. In Which the Prince Is Incapable of Listening to Easy Instructions #3
His gaze slipped past her to settle on something over her shoulder. A wrinkle appeared between his brows, and his hands fell away, taking the heat of his skin with him. He straightened, the moment splintering.
“What?” It came out breathier than she wished.
He shook his head. He was squinting at something beyond her. “I thought I—”
“Is Amina here?”
Javi was already retreating, starting for the stairs pressed against her back. “Stay here.”
“That’s the opposite of what Amina recommended.”
But Javi was out of sight.
Risa stood there, breathing fast, clenching the witchtrap between her fists.
It took her a few more breaths before she dared to look at her hands.
She had crushed the bundle of twigs, twine slack, the fragile skeleton falling apart at her fingertips.
At its center was a black stone she hadn’t noticed, wrapped in bits of twine.
It sat in her palm, ice-cold, and her heart suddenly seized.
Brunhilda’s powerful spell compelled her to follow. The tether between her and the prince pulled taut around her heart. Tugged slightly, then all at once insistent, magic skittering along her skin like a thousand bugs.
Fine. She would find the idiot.
Brunhilda’s spell led her through the winding streets, the bright colors blurring as she sped down the cobbled pathways. Clearly, the city planners had never heard of a grid system, leading Risa to dead ends and curved streets that, more often than not, dumped her back where she’d started.
At some point, she had to pause and lean against the side of a building. Brunhilda’s spell was doing a terrible job at taking her where she wanted to go.
Snippets of a conversation from around the corner fell in and out of earshot. One of the voices sounded familiar. Warm. Honeyed.
Risa peered around the side of the building.
Javi was leaning against a sage-green door.
Beside him was a beautiful woman in a red dress and a wide-brimmed hat tipped low over one side of her face.
Javi loomed above the woman, who looked even more delicate under his towering frame.
He had a hand draped casually around her waist, fingers dancing over the small of her back.
His other hand was braced against the jutting lip of the doorframe, crowding the woman in.
Risa inched forward until only a few feet separated her and the amorous pair. Brunhilda’s spell wrenched around her heart, and at the same time, Javi looked up.
“We’ve been discovered,” Javi said, voice hard.
His companion cocked her head in question and observed Risa with a curious and calculating gaze. She shifted until her hips pressed closer to the prince, and the movement caused a rogue sleeve to slip a fraction down her pale shoulder, revealing a smear of bright red on the curve of her breast.
Except—it was in the shape of a crescent moon.
The woman didn’t notice the slip, and neither did Javi. Suddenly, Risa felt dozens of pairs of eyes watching from the rooftops and around corners. Up in the sheltered balconies and hidden behind parapets.
The Sanguines had found him.
And now she had to rescue him. When he was the one with the stupid dagger.
“You!” Risa advanced, shaking the broken witchtrap at him. “Thief, bandit, swindler! You left without paying!”
The prince glared down his nose at her, anger flashing in his eyes. “I don’t recall stealing anything.”
How dare he be upset with her? It wasn’t like she wanted to interrupt his date with a beautiful siren who had perfect hair and happened to be a member of the mercenary gang trying to disconnect his head from the rest of his body!
“Perhaps you stole her heart.” The woman chuckled. It was a husky, attractive voice.
Risa felt fury lick up her spine. She wasn’t one of his fans, traipsing after him as if he might notice her, and growing disappointed when he didn’t.
She didn’t care if he went off gallivanting and flirting with whatever stood still long enough to hear some clever quip he managed to mutter through a half smirk. Stolen heart? Please.
“So you’re a conspirator, then,” Risa shouted, directing her ire at the woman. “You can join him in the gallows, too. Officers!”
The woman frowned. Clearly, an audience would make bludgeoning the prince difficult. Or maybe not. Risa knew little about bludgeoning royalty.
“We’re a little busy—”
“Busy planning crimes!” Risa stomped and clapped her hands, drawing as much attention as she could. A few curious heads poked out of the windows above them, none of them belonging to the Sanguines. “I’ve got two thieves over here!”
Javi was no longer the image of a relaxed rake; his hand had fallen from the Sanguine’s waist, his glare impressively dark. He shook his head at her, disappointed. His companion didn’t look any happier. Perhaps she’d hoped for more romance before she gutted the prince.
“We haven’t stolen anything,” the woman muttered as she stepped away from Javi and began an advance upon Risa. “So you can just go back—”
“Thieves!” Risa screamed again.
This time, several passersby paused at the mouth of the alley, curiosity drawing them out of their self-absorption.
“Brigands!”
“Lady, you are being—”
“Crooks!”
“Risa, shut up!”