Chapter Eight Damien #2
Her stare, so cold and emotionless, stayed firm, unyielding. If I’d been in the guard’s shoes, I would’ve believed her. Since she and I had tangled in the past, I found it rather obvious that there was more she didn’t share. This act of hers was proof of it.
I’d discover more later when I had her alone.
The guard, an older man with graying hair and dull gray-blue eyes, rubbed at his face. “It’s hard for me to imagine you’re a killer, Lady Hayes,” he murmured. “Yet I’ve seen more unassuming killers than you before.”
“If I’m a murderer then where’s the body?”
“You could’ve had help,” he argued.
“I don’t associate with anyone aside from five ladies hand-selected by my mother, and my father can attest to my whereabouts at all times.
I have a schedule to keep.” She made a tired sound from deep in her throat.
“Speaking of which, this whole thing”—she waved a hand about the room—“has likely thrown off my day. I’d planned to visit with my father’s closest constituents this afternoon.
I do believe they’re discussing a bill that would increase the budget for Ward One’s patrolmen. ” She arched a brow at him knowingly.
I leaned back and crossed my arms, staring at the woman across from me. So damned bold. So detached. Smooth. I wondered if her pulse raced. If the hands beneath the table were slicked with sweat.
I longed to find out. No one was that perfect. Especially since the two times I’d seen her up close, her emotions had been clear for all to see. The woman had no filter in my presence.
“Just…just stay here,” the guard ordered, sounding exhausted as he made for the door. “I hear your father is on his way.”
She nodded primly, releasing a faint noise of assent.
As soon as the door shut, I walked over to her and stood at her back. Wren slumped a little in her seat, releasing a groan. From this angle, I had a clear view below the table, and her hands were indeed wringing themselves. Wren had done well to hide her fear. I almost admired it.
Leaning forward, mere centimeters from her ear, I whispered, “Don’t move.”
Her entire body instantly went rigid, and I would’ve given a pretty coin to have seen the frightened look on her face.
“You,” she said on a sigh.
Hmm…She recognized me by my voice alone. How endearing.
My lips accidentally brushed her skin, her scent filling my senses.
“Yes, me.” I couldn’t help myself. I reached for a twig that had snagged in her hair and removed it, causing her to shudder.
“First you stab me, then you’re accused of either kidnapping or assassinating a Fate?
” I tsked. “My, my, Wren. You’ve been up to a lot, haven’t you, sunshine? ”
She twisted her chin to the side, my lips inadvertently brushing her cheek.
A snarl contorted her mouth as mine lingered, my body momentarily frozen.
I repressed a shudder at the addictive smell of flowers wafting from her and inched back just enough so my lips weren’t pressed against her soft skin.
“I told you not to call me that,” she snapped.
“Why not?” I asked, smiling at how easily riled she was.
Though she hadn’t pulled away. Fates, her skin felt so damned silken and warm.
Warm with anger, most likely. Unwelcome heat coiled in my chest, a flood of something I’d rather not name invading my body like a plague.
I cleared my throat and said, “And here I assumed we were friends.”
She choked on a laugh. “I wouldn’t befriend you if my life depended on it. You’re about as trustworthy as a venomous snake.”
My smile lifted at the image. She wasn’t wrong.
I plucked another bit of dirt from her hair, taking my time. Twirling the caramel strand around my finger, I spoke into her ear, thoroughly enjoying how much my nearness wreaked havoc on her. “I do like to bite.”
Now she jerked back, her chest rapidly rising and falling. I full-on grinned, loving how her mask fell. Wren quickly tried to wrestle back her feeble control, but I’d already seen beneath her facade.
“Friends don’t hide from one another.” Her voice was tighter than a string set to snap. “Frightened, Damien?”
“Of you?” I snickered. “Not likely.”
“Then what do you want?” she demanded, done playing our little game. Which I’d shockingly enjoyed, if only because I’d discovered that the tips of her ears burned red when I pushed her buttons. “Why are you here?”
Two very good questions.
“I’m here because we have unfinished business, Wren Hayes, and I wanted to make sure they didn’t toss you in a cell before our business is concluded.”
“What business?” she asked hesitantly.
“You took something from me last night.” Well, something she might have taken back. I went out on a limb, though, going with the accusation first.
She scoffed and slipped a hand through her tangled hair, some speckles of dirt landing on my face. I scrubbed my hand down it, grimacing. She’d probably done that on purpose. “I am no thief. Unlike some people.” That last part burned with spite.
I hated that I believed her. It would be so much easier if she had the locket.
Leaning away, I analyzed Wren’s face, relishing the fact that she couldn’t see me.
Her jaw set in a firm line, her eyes hard.
Everything about her posture screamed that she spoke the truth.
A rare thing, to tell the truth in my world.
More often than not, people hid behind lies like barricades, believing their words to be stronger than steel. Sometimes, they were.
She had no reason to deceive me. Not even with the fury swimming in her eyes.
Watching her, seeing her, set me on edge. I ground my teeth and brushed off the peculiar sensation working its way into my chest.
“Well, someone stole from me,” I continued, attempting to regain the upper hand.
“And I’ve decided that you’re going to help me get it back.
” I circled her again, my hand trailing up her arm.
I hadn’t meant to touch her, but when she shuddered, my heart leapt.
Wren Hayes was affected by me. And I could use that.
Perhaps it was for this reason that I bent down and gently took her hand in mine. She stifled a stunned noise as I placed a menacing kiss—a mere graze of my lips—on the back of her hand. Just like a gentleman. The next sound that left her wasn’t one born of fear.
“This won’t be the last time you see me, sunshine,” I warned, dropping her hand. I took my time, inhaling the scent of citrus in her hair, on her skin. Savoring the way the highborn princess had retained her composure until the moment my skin greeted hers.
It was a powerful feeling.
“Is that a promise or a threat, Damien, because—”
The door banged open, interrupting whatever she’d planned to say. The older guard from earlier cocked his head at Wren, likely noticing the difference in her demeanor. Nevertheless, he said, “Your father is upstairs. Come.”
She stood quickly, nearly knocking the chair to the side in the process. Her movements were rigid and her face emotionless once more, but then I glimpsed the twitch of her eye. The only indication that she wanted nothing more than to find and possibly strangle me.
Without a word, she strolled out of the room and shadowed the guard, not once gazing back or giving me the satisfaction of seeing her anger face to face.
The grin on my own face was pure triumph. But then I realized something—
Not once had my pocket mirror failed to work while close to Wren. No flickering. No moments when my connection wavered. If anything, the magic I sensed had heightened, and now…
As she walked away, that very power faded.
Mouthing a curse, I bolted after her, not willing to chance getting caught in the very hell I’d escaped years ago.
By the time I stormed out of the main guard station, holding on to my magic became difficult, much like flying a kite in a snowstorm.
Before I materialized from thin air, I sprinted down the steps and into the same alley and its merciful shadows.
My chest heaved as the magic wore off and my body reappeared, exhausted and drained.
It hadn’t felt that way around her.
There was no question in my mind that Wren Hayes and I had been destined to meet. And without a doubt, our lives were now tied together in a way that would be impossible to unravel.
I’ll see you soon, sunshine.