Chapter Twelve Wren #2
“Oh, and your mother had a last-minute invitation to Lady Castleton’s home.
She’s there now.” Sarah paused her work.
“Second time this week, actually. Your mother’s been a busy woman.
She only just had lunch with Lady Lovett the other day, and she spent hours there.
Glad she’s coming back to her old self, at least.”
Mother hadn’t been socially active in years, but in the past months she’d visited the homes of the lords nonstop. I hardly saw her at home, and when she returned, she barely had enough energy to trudge into the house, her stare unfocused and dark circles blooming below her eyes.
Her absence, however, meant one less person to worry about if Damien actually showed his face—but a silver piece was a silver piece and turning it down would just be plain foolish.
“Thank you for telling me,” I replied, inspecting my hands, which had turned clammy. My nerves continuously betrayed me, and I wiped the moisture off on my skirts when Sarah turned her back.
Whirling around, she grabbed her wooden basket and appraised me, her brown eyes narrowed. “I’d suggest keeping home, miss,” she said firmly. “The lord and lady were on edge this morning. More guards are on their posts because of Dusk.”
I forced a small smile and nodded. “Of course.”
Fates, my heartbeat pounded, so loudly she must hear it. Lying had never come easy to me, but lately, I’d been frighteningly decent at it. With each lie, it felt like another brick dropped onto my shoulders.
Sarah tsked before walking by, her wool skirts swaying with her hips. The front door opened and shut seconds later.
She was gone. Everyone was gone.
Wandering into the parlor, I observed the face of the grandfather clock, counting the seconds ticking away. Five minutes until noon.
I paced back and forth, just as I had on my birthday. This time, it had nothing to do with elated anticipation.
That thief better keep his word or I’ll go back to the Void and find him myself.
Then what? Threaten him? I scoffed, laughing at myself. At the absurdity of my threat and the notion of getting a man like Damien to do anything he didn’t wish to do.
“What’s so funny, sunshine?”
I jumped, a small shriek leaving my lips before I could swallow it.
Spinning in place, I found the man in question leaning against the door to the parlor, arms crossed and expression bored. He lifted a hand and picked at his nails, his black hair falling into his eyes. I wished to fling one of the many throw pillows littering the room at his face.
“How the hell did you get in?” I said through gritted teeth, squashing down the urge to yell.
Damien pushed off the doorframe and strolled into the space.
He wore a black, fitted long-sleeved shirt today, a couple of copper buttons at the top undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
That dark hair of his refused to be tamed, sweeping back into his cold eyes, which gleamed as he took me in.
I realized I held my hand to my chest from my earlier fright. I shoved it down to my side.
“I’m so glad you’re happy to see me, too,” he drawled, moving about the parlor, his lean fingers trailing over the fine furniture as if he owned it.
The closer he drew, the more my pulse fluttered at my neck and the more uneven my footing felt.
Like I’d topple over at any moment. An absurdity, as Damien was just a man and a heathen at that.
I shouldn’t fear him. Straightening my shoulders, I cleared my throat when he nearly sent a glass figurine of a dancer toppling off a pedestal. Mother would’ve had his head.
“Can you keep your hands to yourself for five minutes?”
He looked up, a smirk forming. “Funny. Usually I’m asked to do the opposite. Shame.”
I rolled my eyes. He was baiting me, and I wouldn’t fall for any tricks. “Yes, yes. I’m sure you have droves of men and women just waiting to warm your bed. They’re probably fighting outside your room as we speak.”
Arrogant prick.
“You’d be surprised.” He grinned, all teeth. He ceased his wandering, easily moving to stand before me. His towering physique irritated me as always, and I tilted my chin to meet him.
“I think you’re all talk and no action,” I said calmly, silently clapping myself on the back for sounding somewhat poised.
“If you manage to aid me in my quest, then maybe I’ll begin to believe a word that comes out of your lying mouth.
I asked you here out of necessity, remember, not because I wished to engage with you any more than I already have. ”
He cocked his head, his smile downright wicked.
“Oh, I have full confidence that I can help you, Wren,” he said, and damn it, the sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver straight through me.
“And I don’t think you hate me as much as you claim.
There are plenty of other…qualified individuals you could have asked. ”
I faked a wide grin. “Shame I don’t know anyone other than you. If you’d like, you could provide me with a list and we can part ways.”
His lips twitched at that. “If you wish to actually be robbed of what you seek, then sure, I can give you some names. But I prefer the silver you offer to whatever trinket you’re looking for.”
Trinket. Ha. He hadn’t a clue what Dusk said about my missing gift. It was far more important than he could possibly fathom.
My hands curled into fists as we stared at each other silently.
I despised him, hated all his bluster and teasing.
His incessant need to be a bastard just for the sake of it.
Yet…I couldn’t deny I found him attractive.
The man had a handsome face—sharp cheekbones, a regal nose, and a darkness that would lure anyone with eyes.
It made it difficult to keep the scowl on my face, but by the grace of the Fates, I did.
I’d read enough novels to discern the difference between love and lust, and I remained confident that I was experiencing the latter now.
The ladies and gentlemen of society got themselves confused about the emotion all the time, and sadly, once they were married off, they found that the thrill of it vanished.
I wouldn’t fall victim to his looks.
I had a mission from a Fate.
“As fun as this is, would you take a seat so we may discuss what I require?” I asked politely, shoving down the pesky little thoughts of his full lips as they curved upward, his dimples popping up on either cheek.
“You sound so formal,” he mused. “After you stabbed me, I believed we were on friendlier terms.”
I didn’t tell him I’d armed myself today with my letter opener shoved between my breasts.
Just in case.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d believe you enjoyed being stabbed.” I stared at the spot where the weapon had pierced his skin, my eyes lingering on how his shirt left nothing to the imagination. He was lean but toned, his abdomen—
“Eyes up here.” Damien tsked, sliding a finger beneath my chin and shocking me at how quickly he moved.
He lifted my face, forcing me to bear witness to the sheer confidence brightening his features.
“No blush today?” he asked, his blasted finger still touching me.
If I removed it, then he’d have won. “I’m hurt. ”
Thank all the Fates that my body had cooperated with me just that once. My stomach, on the other hand, twisted in turmoil, all knotted and cold. Good for me that he couldn’t see beneath my skin.
Damien mercifully lifted his chin, glancing around the room, though he didn’t release me. “Curious,” he murmured. “I wonder how much of you is in this parlor. In this home.”
“Excuse me?” His finger traced upward, causing an involuntary shiver.
“It’s dark, little color. Timeless, yes, but you…I don’t see a trace of you in here.” His gaze locked on mine. “You’re all color. This is more like a tomb. Or maybe it’s more like your father?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping. Father…I felt protective of him. Still. Even after he’d hurt me this morning. He’d always been my blind spot, his imperfections difficult for me to conceive.
“Yes…” Damien clucked his tongue. “This isn’t you at all, sunshine. I wonder how a rose blossomed in such a cold place.”
He compared me to a rose—a compliment. Yet it didn’t feel like one, not with how scathing his tone had turned.
Odd, that I didn’t feel like that derision was directed at me.
“Enough, Damien,” I ground out, tone icy. “I’d prefer to skip all of your crude innuendoes and horrendous comparisons to flowers and tombs. The sooner we get this over with, the better for us both.”
Damien’s smile slipped from his mouth, and damn me, I mourned it. Now he just looked like his typical indignant and broody self.
“Fine.” He dropped his finger and strode over to the sofa, where he made a show of taking a seat. “But you’re no fun.”
I sighed, the urge to pull at my hair strong. Working with him would be torturous.
After I sat on the opposite sofa, as far from the man as possible, I righted my skirts and froze. My mouth opened, but I’d lost the words.
Or the nerve.
Damien lifted a dark brow. “…Yes?”
“I—I need you to find something for me.” My statement was clipped, soft.
He leaned back, making himself right at home, arms slung over the sides of the sofa. “What kind of something?” he asked without inflection, for once serious.
“My gift was stolen.” The words rushed out of me. “Someone took it the night of my birthday, and I have it on good authority that it should’ve been delivered by a hound. That there’d been an error.”
Damien remained damnably stoic. “What kind of authority?”
I couldn’t answer that. Dusk’s final letter had been hastily written in secret.
She wanted to reveal a truth about our society, and I couldn’t just involve Damien.
I felt protective of the mysterious Fate, which was odd, given I’d never met her before.
Yet there was a pull in my belly whenever I envisioned her.
She chose me.
Maybe that reason alone had me on the defensive.
“Just trust me,” I said, adjusting in my seat, suddenly filled with nervous energy. “I need to locate the person who stole my gift from the hound and retrieve what is rightfully mine.”
I’d deduced the time of the theft that night—when the black hound had been sent to make the delivery.
A rare thing, the theft of a gift, but once the object fell into the hands of another, the power transferred. Perhaps that was why the Fates decreed it pertinent to keep their tokens of magic on our person at all times.
Silence stretched between us, long and heavy, and utterly nerve-wracking.
As I couldn’t appear anything but put together in his presence, I kept my eyes on his, and in turn he never wavered, both of us locked in place. Trapped in each other’s orbits.
We played a game, he and I—neither of us would win, but it would be played to exhaustion nevertheless.
After what felt like several torturous minutes, Damien sat up in his seat. The smile had vanished from his face; no dimples or mischievous grins. His eyes grew so impossibly dark, they resembled a cold winter sea.
“Do you have suspects?”
“No,” I replied stiffly. “Most everyone I socialize with has a gift already, and the rare few without one are typically sent away to the countryside by their parents. I assumed—”
“You assumed it was someone from the Void?”
I flinched in my seat, his harsh tone like a slap.
“I didn’t say that, Damien, only that I don’t believe it’s someone I’m familiar with.”
His shoulders grew taut, the muscles flexing beneath the thin material. “Your birthday was when?”
“March eleventh.”
He rubbed at his sharp chin, his thumb meticulously swiping back and forth. When he didn’t open his mouth, I found him handsome. Maybe I should alert him to this fact when he went home to deal with his oh-so-many lovers.
“I’ll look into the usual suspects back south,” Damien said, unaware of my fervent attention.
“In the meantime, you should really consider someone who might’ve been at the last ball you attended.
Someone closer to home. You’d be surprised how many enemies one might have wearing smiles but holding knives behind their backs. ”
I frowned at the thought. Closer to home, as in a noble?
Since a few children of the upper class hadn’t received gifts in the past, it was a possible option.
Some remained in Andalay, having convinced their parents to allow them to stay, even with the ensuing scandal.
But who would dare? Unfortunately for me, and Damien, I’d been so secluded that I couldn’t identify more than a quarter of the nobility.
At parties, my instructions were to remain silent unless spoken to, and I’d occasionally dance with a partner who’d mumble about the weather or some other trivial matter that bored me half to death.
I bit my lip. I could be acquainted with the perpetrator, but did I truly know them? We all wore masks in our society, and someone I assumed to be harmless could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Agreed,” I eventually whispered before tacking on, “And we’re going to the Void together when we search. You said you will look into the people in the south, but I wish to accompany you. It is my gift at stake, after all.”
He barked out a laugh. “You barely made it out yesterday. I spied about five thieves ready to rob you,” he added in a lower tone. It sounded angry. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“Then show me.”
“No.”
I shot to my feet. “I’m not utterly helpless, even if you like to believe otherwise, and I can’t sit idly by. I’m going wherever you go.”
Damien’s jaw feathered. “Then I get to do the same,” he replied, surprising me.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I expect to be at your side at your lavish ward parties, balls, whatever you call them.” He waved his hand like he batted away a pesky fly. “As we said, it could be someone on this side of Andalay.”
“How the hell would I be able to get you an invitation?”
His smirk returned. “You insisted you weren’t helpless. Prove it.”
Oh, Fates. I’m going to murder him.