Chapter Thirteen Wren
Chapter Thirteen
Wren
For thousands of years, the Fates have delivered gifts. Detailed accounts must be maintained, safely kept under lock and key. No two gifts are exactly alike, even if they possess similar qualities. Such precision takes excessive effort on behalf of our almighty deities.
—Origin of the Fates, Chapter Eight
Apparently, the first stop we’d make today was in the north.
Damien insisted that since he’d already traveled here and was worn down from a night out—likely from drinking himself under a table or gallivanting with one of his numerous lovers—we should start close to my home before entertaining the notion of going to the Void.
I bit my tongue; he acted as if he knew exactly what he searched for and how to go about it, and I had paid him for his experience.
Smacking him would accomplish nothing. Unfortunately.
“We’re going to start with the younger nobles. The ones whose magic isn’t all that powerful, and the nobles who never received a gift,” he declared, striding paces ahead of me.
“There’s only a handful of those who never got one,” I said. “Should be an easy search.”
“Hope so, for your sake,” he quipped, and I stuck my tongue out at his back.
“I saw that,” he said without turning.
I slowed, frowning. “Did not.”
“Just keep your tongue in your mouth, Lady Hayes. So unbecoming,” he teased, the wind carrying his words to my red ears.
Lucky guess from a lucky bastard.
I tucked my cloak’s hood over my head and continued seething.
All I could do was pray no one recognized me, let alone believed I was traveling with the cocky thief strutting down Lorndale Avenue.
Office suites occupied this section; a few lawyers, accountants, and even a matchmaker and a social organizer inhabited the pearl-colored stone buildings.
Elegant snowy steps led to each dwelling, an intricate fence forged of iron blocking them from the street.
People went about their business during this bustling time, mostly men in their posh suits and bowler hats, leaving their wives at home or at tea.
As if they could manage a business better than a helpless woman.
I scoffed. Most of the women I knew were far more fearsome than any of the men, and much more cunning.
My thoughts went to Callie. She’d better get a seat. She deserved one, regardless of what Father or the other misogynistic lords believed.
“Where are we going?” I whisper-hissed when Damien made a sharp left. He guided us into a narrow alley lined with trash. Overflowing filth seeped out from the containers, and I wrinkled my nose.
Not the most hygienic place to begin our search—
A hand seized my wrist and tugged me deeper into the darkness before spinning me around.
“Stop doing that!” I demanded, my vision settling.
“What?” Damien asked, his hand still wrapped around my wrist.
“Grabbing my arm, my wrist, my hand.” I shook my arm to make my point. “Oh, and whirling me around like a puppet on a string.”
“So dramatic, sunshine.”
“So irritating.”
Damien peered around us to make sure no one heard me before leaning down. “Whatever insanity you feel, I assure you, what you make me feel is ten times worse.”
My lips parted in shock. I’d done nothing but slow him down at the ball when he stole Everett’s watch. Aside from that, he had no reason to hate me, yet he kept prodding me. Kept battling.
“It’s not my fault you insist upon being uncivil.”
“But it is your fault that you open that mouth of yours.”
I slapped him, the sound echoing in the alley as all the air deserted my lungs in shock. It was a weak hit, but Damien slowly turned back to me, his eyes depthless voids. He appeared a killer at that moment, a monster hiding beneath human skin.
“Trying to intimidate me with your scowls won’t work,” I said, heat entering my cheeks. “And never, never, insult me like that again.”
I had enough self-respect to cease working with him altogether.
“You’re so easy to intimidate,” he taunted, that cold mask of his glued to his face. “So easy to rile up. No wonder your gift was stolen. You’re the perfect little mark.”
Damn him.
This time when I went to slap him, his hand reached out and snagged my wrist. I hissed like a trapped animal.
Damien shook his head. “That wasn’t very ladylike of you. But then again, ladies don’t curse, drink, or stab people.”
“You deserved it,” I argued, barely keeping my wits about me. “I have a mind to do it again—”
A familiar voice sounded from our left. Ignoring Damien and his attempts to piss me off—attempts he was succeeding at—I peeked from the corner of my eye, finding the worst thing imaginable.
One of my father’s most trusted advisors stood at the mouth of the alleyway. He’d recognize me in a heartbeat.
“Shit.”
“Another curse. I should start counting them.” Damien tsked. When I didn’t answer, he sobered. “What is it?”
The man—Lord Beaufort, I believed—had yet to move, standing alongside another businessman from Ward One. If he only looked to his right…
“That man. You know him.” Damien fit the pieces together. I nodded wordlessly. If he discovered me, I’d get worse than a two-week sentence.
Damien leaned in closer just as Lord Beaufort shifted toward the alleyway, turning as if I’d called his name aloud. Any second now, he’d spot me.
“Sunshine?” I peered up at Damien, his eyes softer than before. Perhaps he understood the gravity of the situation. Saw the sheer terror in my eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“No,” I replied truthfully.
He sighed heavily. “Probably a good thing, but do you trust me to keep you hidden?”
Damien was in it for the silver. A man wouldn’t let harm come to the person providing him with coin, right?
“Y-yes.”
“Smack me again if you need to.”
Damien’s body shifted around mine before I could ask why he’d said those words.
His arm rested casually above my head, blocking out the alley’s entrance.
Slowly, so very slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes morphing into endless depths of deep winter.
It was like looking into a snowstorm for too long and losing yourself entirely to the lethal haze.
I gasped when his lips touched my neck. Lighter than I imagined, sweeter, they traveled gently up the column of my throat.
I couldn’t have repressed the shudder if I’d tried.
Damien sucked on the sensitive skin just below my ear, his tongue darting out to taste me.
I bit my tongue, failing to swallow the escaping moan.
I felt him freeze before a low noise left his own throat, like he was surprised by his actions, or…
or perhaps what those actions elicited. Large hands grabbed my hips, guiding me closer to his firm body, further into the sensation of free-falling.
The heat of him radiated through his clothing, my own fire burning whether I wished it or not.
The flimsy barriers separating us weren’t enough to dispel the blaze burning across my flesh, consuming me as his lips grazed my skin, as he seemed to breathe me in. My scent. My essence. My very soul.
“Damien…” I spoke his name, both shock and a plea.
This was dangerous. And so, so incredibly wrong.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmured against my neck.
“I—”
I couldn’t. I knew this was an act, a way to hide me from view with his body shielding mine, but the sensations swirling throughout my core were foreign and intoxicating. And he was the cause.
I nearly forgot about Lord Beaufort. How could I remember when Damien inched down, placing tender, almost adoring kisses along my collarbone, his lips treacherously close to the tops of my breasts? My body trembled, the rise and fall of my chest turning erratic.
“Fates,” he muttered, and his grasp on my hips tightened.
His entire body remained stiff, like he fought to keep those hands from moving anywhere else. Yet his mouth…
I shuddered when he nipped at my jaw before soothing it with his tongue, his hot breath fanning across my cheeks, becoming the air in my lungs.
This was Damien. A thief. A man I didn’t even like.
Why, then, did I feel as if the mere touch of him could set me alight?
“Damn it, Wren,” he growled against the corner of my mouth—not quite a kiss, never fully taking me. He sounded angry. Like the fault lay with me.
Was I affecting him as he did me—
A piercing bang, like a clattering of metal striking the ground, burst from beyond the alley.
We yanked apart at the same time, stunned. His expression one of confusion. Mine likely matched.
Numbly, I looked to my left, finding Lord Beaufort and his acquaintance gone.
I touched my sensitive neck with my fingers, speechless for the first time since meeting the thief.
I had enjoyed that. Far too much.
Damien shoved back and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He didn’t meet my gaze, and I couldn’t meet his. What had been meant to be a way to hide me from the lord had turned into…that.
Whatever it had been shouldn’t have felt that good.
“Sorry about that,” Damien said. He plastered a smirk on his lips, the cocky one he wore to tease me, to hide from me, I realized. “At least it worked.”
I stood there, unable to process for a moment. “Y-yes, it did.”
Damien clapped his hands, averting his stare. “Lovely. Thanks for being a good sport. Very good acting, by the way.”
My blood turned hot. “A good sport?” I scoffed. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”
His smirk dipped just slightly. “I think fast, Wren. You should know that about me.” He winked, and I curled my fingers so that I didn’t finally, finally allow myself to wrap my hands around his neck. Whatever foolish thoughts had raced through my mind when his lips had marked my skin, vanished.
“Now, hopefully no more of that,” I said primly. “We just need to be more careful.”
A moment of madness. That was all it had been.
“Agreed,” he answered quickly, his tone haughty. Like he’d done me a huge favor. Like touching me had been a curse he’d gallantly accepted. “We won’t speak of it again.” He peered just above my eyes, not into them.
Coward.
“Of course not.” I smoothed down my skirts, angrier with myself than with him.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Welcome?”
“I hear it’s polite to thank someone when they save you.” He cocked a brow, his typical arrogance entering his tone. Gone was the frantic boy who’d turned my world on its head. I wasn’t sure I liked the way he gazed upon me now. “I have a feeling you need a lot of saving, Wren.”
I had to clench my teeth to keep myself from slapping him. Again.
“Last time I had to defend myself, I had you right where I wanted you. And you bled for me, Damien.” Best he recall who’d gotten the upper hand in that fight—not mentioning the watch he’d still managed to steal, however.
“I let you win,” he all but growled, moving into my space again. “I may not be one of your self-important gentlemen, but I’m not about to hurt someone half my damned size.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I snarled, right before tapping him on the nose. He wrinkled it and backed away, eyes narrowed into slits.
“As much as I enjoy this back-and-forth, we have a job to do,” he said, his hand at the nape of his neck, tugging at the small strands. “You ready to stop being a thorn in my side?”
“You ready to stop being one in mine?”
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Ridiculous.” Storming out of the alley, he forced me to find my footing and follow. The thief practically ran.
True, our bantering could be considered childish, but our goal was far more important than deciding who annoyed who more.
Damien and I were oil and water.
I slowed my steps, confusion dawning. I didn’t know why we were even here, because Mr. Secretive didn’t like to share. My temper prickled a little at that. It was my fault, truthfully; I’d blindly gone along without asking questions.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked, my mind a tangled mess of unwanted thoughts. I could hardly focus, and I stumbled a little, trying to keep up.
Damien peered over his shoulder, his stare less sharp. Less heated. “We’re going to the Registry of Magical Gifts.”
I’d asked Father to check there to see if my name had been written in one of the thousands of stored records. He claimed it hadn’t been.
“We’re about to find out who needs power most. Someone your age who has ambition without the means,” Damien whispered, his gaze cold and tone somehow icier than before.
Not raspy and deep as it had been a minute ago.
“We need to weed out the weakest among you in the higher circles, and then we do a little bit of…research.”
I cursed the three Fates as I trailed him—
Him and the mistake that had happened in that alley.
One I’d never repeat.