Chapter Four Damien
Chapter Four
Damien
Wren Hayes had tackled me to the ground.
Fates above, I had not expected the princess of Ward One to chase after me in a voluminous ball gown, let alone wrestle me in the mud. Then again, I supposed even I would do damn near anything to get away from the pompous prick who’d cornered her. He looked like sleep personified.
Below me, Wren’s caramel hair spread around her like a halo, the color somehow shining in the dimness.
And her eyes…I hadn’t had the chance to see them up close before, but the turquoise specks swimming in the greenish blue appeared too stunning to be real.
If she weren’t the daughter of Cameron Hayes, I might’ve found her attractive.
Might being the key word. But it was the sheer look of rage painting her features that stole my attention.
“I will not take it from you,” she snapped, the bite in her tone unexpected. “You will hand it over. Now.”
I sneered at her request, making a show of glancing down her frame where she was currently trapped below me. Wren lifted an unimpressed blond brow, clearly unfazed by my blatant attempt to intimidate. If anything, her eyes turned sharper, the colors that ignited the night growing more pronounced.
This couldn’t be the same anxious woman who’d paced in her parlor on her eighteenth birthday, all rosy cheeks and anxious energy.
She’d been the embodiment of bright pink and wildflowers and spring.
This creature, on the other hand, her lips set in a thin line and her eyes narrowed into catlike slits, was a thing to be reckoned with.
My twisted mind rather enjoyed it.
I cocked my head, ignoring the way her body felt against mine. How her heat seeped into my bones. My thighs digging into her generous curves…
Focus. She’s the enemy.
I grinned, fully utilizing the smile that typically set others on edge. The one where my canines poked into my bottom lip. “You’re awfully confident given the fact that I’m—”
Something cold pressed against my ribs. Well, shite. I didn’t need to look to gather it could pierce some decent holes into my flesh.
Whatever this little rabbit had planned piqued my curiosity. A rather difficult thing to do—even if my life might have been on the line. Eh, what was a little tangle without the threat of death?
Smile set in place, I sought the source of the metal, finding a bronze letter opener poking into my side. Impressive, really; a princess with a weapon and fire in her eyes.
My stare lifted, pleased when I discovered a smirk plastered across her face. One that silently screamed she wasn’t to be trifled with, even by the likes of me. And I so loved a challenge. Wren Hayes should know better than to engage in fights with criminals.
“I don’t have a knife, but maybe this could do some damage,” she taunted, and for the first time in ages my smile became genuine.
“Do you always carry a letter opener to balls?” I winced when she pressed harder.
Note: If lacking a weapon, a letter opener will suffice.
“You never know when some prick might get handsy,” Wren retorted, glaring daggers.
There was a hardness in her stare that told me she’d encountered something of the sort before.
At the thought, a rush of unexpected ire shot into my veins, and my grin vanished.
Wren, unfazed by my expression, added, “Or when you might need to catch a thief.”
If only she were aware of what I’d stolen from her.
A brief pang of guilt throbbed like an open wound. The locket was safely on my person, tucked away in my waiter’s jacket. I hadn’t sold it to the buyer like I’d intended, my picture thwarting my plans. My connection was a mystery I hadn’t solved. I didn’t like mysteries.
Sleep had evaded me since I’d pilfered it, and I argued with myself over and over that it meant nothing. That my picture slipped inside the casing was a flimsy coincidence. An error. The man a look-alike, even.
I would pawn the damned thing when I pawned the snobbish lord’s watch. The original buyer had lost their chance. Or more like, I didn’t wish to give them a chance to gut me after I wasted their time.
“Well?” Wren asked, lifting her chin. Her full lips were pursed, her eyes defiant. “Get off me and hand it over. Or I can test out this letter opener on your ribs.”
My breath caught as she lifted her head, exposing the elegant curve of her neck.
I cursed. This was the woman whose gift supposedly—because, yes, I was still in denial—contained my damned photo.
She was the daughter of the man I loathed most. Our meeting tonight had to be the Fates playing some sort of wretched trick on me.
Perhaps that was why my mirror hadn’t worked as well during my escape—and the entire week before—my gift of invisibility flickering in and out. I hadn’t considered the reason until it was lying beneath me, soft and warm and full of rage.
Wren.
I’d never put much stock in the Fates or in them watching us mere mortals, but I imagined that if they did watch us, the proof of my magic disappearing lay before my eyes. They were pissed.
The letter opener jabbed at my side.
“Fates, sunshine, that hurt.”
“Good,” she snapped, right before thrusting it deeper. “And don’t call me that.”
“But you’re so charming and—”
I yelped as she kneed me in the groin and shoved me off. Scooting back, she scowled at where I clutched myself, my teeth grinding together while I writhed on the ground.
Through squinting eyes, I caught the little wretch beaming, clearly enjoying herself. She’d made her cut, and the burn lacing my side made me forget why I’d been impressed with her to begin with.
“Damien!”
I groaned at the sound of Ruby’s voice from the other side of the fence. Her timing, as always, was awful.
“You’re late,” she called out again, right before coming face to face with Wren and me on the other side.
Her lips parted in an O at what she found.
“Fates! Did Hayes’s daughter just knock you on your ass?
” Ruby snickered, a small snort escaping.
She clapped her hands slowly three times. “Bravo, Wren.”
“You!” Wren sprang to her feet, her sparkling gown a mess of leaves and snags. “You know this man?”
Ah. So they’d met inside at the ball and made friends. Lovely.
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Know is a rather familiar term. We…work together from time to time.”
That was a very vague explanation of our relationship, but I didn’t correct her. If I were a man with a more sensitive heart, I’d have been offended.
It didn’t take Wren long to put the pieces together.
“As thieves, you mean,” Wren accused, crossing her arms and pushing up her breasts. My traitorous eyes fell on her chest before I cursed again. I seemed to do a lot of cursing around Wren Hayes.
“I’m fine, thank you for asking, Ruby!” I bellowed, heat racing up and down my ribs.
Wren had cut deep enough for me to bleed, but I doubted it required stitches.
If it did, Ruby would make certain it left a scar.
I avoided working with her on serious missions whenever possible—mainly because she tended to get sidetracked—but this party had been too good to pass up, and that silver watch…
whew, it would feed us for a month, regardless of splitting the cost. However, now that I’d been stabbed—and kneed in the groin—I debated haggling for a larger percentage.
All Ruby did was pick out the target, and then she would secure a buyer.
A gift she came by naturally. She had the uncanny ability to know who could and couldn’t be trusted.
“No one cares, Damien.” Ruby cocked her head as she observed Wren, an odd expression crossing my companion’s face. “At least someone put this deviant in his place. Cocky thing, isn’t he?”
I was going to murder her. Slowly.
“He truly is,” Wren agreed, softening ever so slightly as she dropped her arms. “How do you hold back from smacking him all the time?”
Ruby shrugged. “Sometimes I do. Very therapeutic, I might add.”
Wren snorted, seeming to forget her rage for just a moment.
This little camaraderie of theirs had to stop. It was giving me a headache.
“Enough chitchat, we need to go.” I made for the fence, preparing to start the climb, but a small hand grasped my arm.
“The watch,” Wren demanded, ignoring Ruby altogether. “Don’t make me stab you again.” She held up the letter opener in warning, droplets of my darkened blood staining its sides.
I smirked. “You don’t seem the type to make the final blow, and I like my chances.”
With that, I scurried up the fence and out of her reach. She called out my name—familiar with it now, thanks to Ruby—and tried to follow, but her dress made it all but impossible. She growled out a curse I hadn’t heard from someone of her standing. It sounded endearing more than threatening.
At the top of the fence, with my feet dangling off the sides, I peered down at Wren. My heart skipped a beat. “Until next time, sunshine,” I taunted before hopping down and landing on my feet next to Ruby.
A win was a win, and this one tasted sweeter than the others.
Wren grasped the iron that separated us with her gloved hands and scowled. “You better hope not.”
“Oh, don’t tempt me, I enjoy threats,” I called over my shoulder with a snicker. I caught a brief image of her; a seething mess now set on my destruction. My chest warmed at the image. It was rare that a person surprised me.
Ruby skipped along in her “borrowed” dress, the delicate hemline already ruined by her careless movements. “That’s the woman you stole from a week ago? Fates, Damien, you’re in trouble.”
I didn’t care for her telling me this; I already knew.
“And you were far too friendly with her,” I grumbled. “Next thing I know, you’ll be invited for tea.”
“And I’d accept,” Ruby answered cheerfully. “I’d never say no to tea and biscuits. Besides, I think I like her, and the fact that she had you on your ass—”
“Yes, yes.” I cut her off. “I get it. You’re probably angry you missed the show.”
“Damn right.”
I needed to remind myself not to work with Ruby again. But that would be a lie. We’d known each other for ten years now. I was stuck with her.
We walked in silence, Ruby occasionally humming to herself while skipping here and there, her cheery disposition grating on my nerves.
As she danced around the burly men and scowling women of the Void, I had the sudden urge to reach for the locket I’d kept on me since that fateful night.
It felt too important to keep in my room, where anyone could break in.
Then there was that odd pull of magic that kept me rubbing its smooth surface each night.
I wanted to understand, and until I did, I kept it right beside my mirror—
I stopped in my tracks, ice trickling down my spine, my hand frozen in place inside my pocket.
It wasn’t there.
It wasn’t fucking there.
“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked when I slowed, bumping into a few townspeople, who shot her vile gestures she ignored with the ease of someone who’d grown up in this dark place.
I checked my trousers and patted down my jacket, and all the while, uncharacteristic nerves caused my hands to tremble.
Gone. The locket was gone.
Either it had fallen out during our tussle and it was now back in Wren’s possession…or someone at the party had stolen it from me.
Which didn’t make sense, did it? I never lost things. Hell, my career depended on the trait. Besides, the pockets of my jacket were deep. Far too deep for the object to have simply fallen out.
Some thief at the party had taken what I’d claimed. With all the bodies moving around in there and all the commotion, it was the most reasonable answer. I couldn’t have been the only criminal there, right?
A thought struck.
The waiters weren’t the only ones in that room tonight. And the man who’d originally commissioned me to steal the gift? He could’ve been dancing before my eyes. He knew my face, while I’d been denied his.
I faced Ruby. “I don’t believe I’m done with Wren Hayes after all.”