Chapter 14 #2
“You made it my concern when you argued in front of me. When you told me to sit.”
He continued stirring.
“You hurt Lucian.”
“Marietta.” Warning laced his tone.
I argued with Ferris all the time, but Ferris had never been close to Kennen or to me. If I’d argued with Kennen, and seen an expression like Lucian’s...
“But—”
“No!” The spoon struck the bottom of the pot. His shoulders bowed forward. “You don’t understand. Please leave it.”
My mouth parted. He had never said please to me before.
“Very well,” I answered softly.
I moved to his side, picked up an onion and began peeling the skin. His shoulders relaxed a fraction and I said nothing more.
~*~
The tavern was dim and filled with unsavory types. The Carowell area taverns, though raucous and bawdy, had none of the overt sense of menace that Ironhook wore with pride. The patrons’ hard eyes and disappearing hands made me grip the pistol in my pocket.
Shooting was something even the non could become good at. I hadn’t needed estate magic to practice.
Gabriel threw a coin onto the table, and two ales appeared in front of us. I worked up a smile. The ale looked about the same way the tavern did—bad. Something floated in the liquid that I chose not to identify.
The man who had delivered the mugs stood before the table, a towel over his shoulder. Gabriel held out his hand, and when the man shook it, a glint of gold passed between them.
“We’re looking for a man who may have been here last night. About your height. Brown hair, blue eyes, with a scar running beneath his chin.”
“I might know who you’re talking about. Whatcha want with him?”
“This is his sister. He hasn’t been home in a fortnight. Family is worried sick.”
The man looked as if he didn’t believe a word, and also didn’t care.
“Bad business making family worry. Bloke fitting that description was here. Bedded Tabs.” He pointed at a woman in a tight dress.
Gabriel handed over another coin. The man pocketed it in a pouch bearing a wood disc and walked to the woman.
Gabriel leaned into me. “What do my eyes say, Marietta?”
Smoky green? “They say you’re intrigued.”
“Then you are losing your touch.” Challenge entered his gaze.
I licked suddenly dry lips. “They say you are about to kiss me.”
A slow smile worked over his. “Much better.”
“But we don’t need—”
His mouth took mine. His tongue swept. His hands pulled. Never awkward or hasty. Always dominating. Always sure of himself.
He pulled away, satisfaction curving his lips as my limbs quivered and my wrist pulsed. With one maneuver he could make me come undone.
No.
Hot stubbornness surged. I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. Doing everything he had taught me—pulling him against me and sending a part of myself and my magic through the kiss.
I released him, breathing heavily. He stared at me, eyes wide, shock lined in green.
“You still need me over here?” a woman’s voice asked to my right. “Rodge said you wanted to talk, but looks like you be wanting something else.”
Gabriel continued to stare at me, gaze now unreadable.
I gripped my mug.
He ripped his gaze away and motioned the woman to a seat.
“Be needing a taste of two? I can add to that.” She smirked.
“You talked to a man with a scar last night?” Gabriel’s voice was clipped.
Tabs took his measure. “Yeah. Took him home too.”
“Back to your room?”
She shrugged. “Average tumble, but most days are like that, aren’t they?” She gave him a once-over. “Other days promise a little more. Wouldn’t mind being between you both if you promise more of that display.”
I blinked.
“And after? Did he say anything about where he was headed?”
“Left right after he was done. Most do. But he said he would be back tonight. When I told him to make me glow next time too, he looked at me strangely.” She shrugged. “Looked like fun, but if it’s a new pox, that’s what potions are for.”
If Tabs had seen it, that meant the illusion over the charm was waning. The charm itself would fade next. Or be removed. I gripped the edge of the knotty chair.
“Did he do anything odd?”
“Kept calling me Octavia. Told me to tell him he was a bad boy. Got to whip him. Right fun, that part. Promised me more of the same tonight.” She examined a nail. “Don’t really care what he calls me as long as I get paid. The whipping suited me just fine.”
“You...whipped him?” That explained the one in Octavia’s drawer.
“Lor, some blokes like that, girl. Where’d you come up from?” She looked me over, eyes narrowing. “Ah, so you’s one of them. Getting your skirt up for the adventure. I’ll ride that accent out of you.” She leered.
Gabriel squeezed my thigh. “Not tonight. But thank you, Tabs.” He slid a coin over.
“I’m here anytime you have need of me.” She winked and ambled off.
We didn’t stay. Gabriel swore as we hit the street.
“He knew we’d be here. Worley wouldn’t miss the opportunity for more of the activities described after days hiding away. Not from what the investigator’s notes say.”
“My magic—”
“Did its work. Subtle, novel, perfect. He hid, and when he emerged wore your sparkles through three different pubs and Tabs’s arms. Any magic will wear off if not extended.”
“What do we do now?”
“Even without your lovely spell to help us, Dresden is still after him—and he can marshal blockades. The roads out of Gildon will be watched, if Worley tries to leave.”
“Will they postpone Kennen’s trial again?”
Gabriel grimaced. “No. We will have to provide enough evidence to get him through it. I need to visit Montranc and give the latest dispatch to Edgar. He will get the papers to your brother. Just hope that your brother puts his brain toward something other than the latest fashions.”
~*~
I crouched on the floor. Minutes remained to locate the journal. Gabriel always went through his tasks quickly and efficiently. And spirits knew, Edgar didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
So far it had always been in a place that didn’t touch his personal items. As if he couldn’t bear to hide it among his belongings. I’d made the mistake of going through his things once. They all smelled of him. Warm and protective.
I peered under the bed and the serpentine chest of drawers, cheek pressed to the hardwood.
Success! The wood planks bit into my knees as I pushed my hand under the chest, grabbing the edge of the leather cover and sliding it across the floor.
I was morbidly lost in the words as soon as I opened the foul thing.
We’ll be moving to a new place for the summer.
It will be painful not to see him, to hear his unwitting groans (I ache just thinking of such music!
So rare for him these days!) and to be away from his stoic glare, but we have a new candidate while we are away.
Nothing like our little avenger, but enough to let us play.
And a tantalizing step into a new caste.
I don’t know if it will be worth it, but C.F. assures he will.
Perhaps we can introduce him to our little avenger, should all go well. I.F. is anxious to have her hungers sated even before we’ve broken this one to the saddle. I see defiance already in the new one’s stare. He thinks he stands upon the world, but will soon discover that we stand upon all.
Footsteps. I shoved the book back under the chest and scrambled to the window.
Gabriel entered, his eyes immediately pinning me. “Such a fair presence in a rather boring bedroom.”
I smiled as brightly as I could manage, leaning against the sill.
“Looking for the journal again?”
I coughed delicately into my sleeve. He tossed his cap on top of the chest, then turned and leaned against it, unbuttoning a cuff as he watched me.
“Not even a word in protest? I’m shocked, Marietta.”
I gave up my pretense and stepped away from the window. “Why? You already know full well my purpose.”
“But not the reason behind it.”
“There’s something in there.” I rubbed my arms. “I can feel it.” Grossly unpleasant, but there.
“In a madwoman’s rambles?”
“She wasn’t mad, not really.” Just mean and terrible.
A dark smile curved his mouth. “So few of us are.”
Frustration rose. “Why are you stopping me from reading it? I’m a grown woman. You aren’t protecting me from anything. I told you I wouldn’t be controlled.” I pressed the vow marks. Task compliance didn’t mean mental conscription.
“Perhaps it is not you who I’m protecting.” He undid his other cuff, fingers brushing his own wrist.
“You don’t know any of the people in the journal.”
He stepped toward me. “What would you say if I told you I did? That I know everyone in those pages?” He circled around me. I hated when he did that. It made me feel out of control and small.
“I would call you a liar.”
“You wouldn’t believe me?”
“You would be lying about something. Whether it’s this or lies of omission before this.”
“Ah.” He drew a hand along my neck. “And you don’t forgive easily, do you, Marietta?”
“No.” Silent and judging, standing in the shadows of ballrooms and remedial classrooms.
“You still haven’t forgiven Ferris. Your parents. Kennen. Yourself.”
I stiffened. “I have nothing to forgive myself for.”
“No?”
“You are changing the subject. Do you know anything about the journal?”
“Mmm. Possibly. Possibly I really do know every person referenced within.”
I spun, but he somehow stayed right behind me, his lips brushing my ear.
“What would you do to me if I knew? If I knew exactly who killed all those women and chose not to reveal it at the expense of your brother?”
So this is what it felt like to be launched from a cannon. “What?”
“Would you feel betrayed? Have you fallen for me, Marietta?” His hands slipped down my sides and pulled me against him.
“What?” I whispered.
His lips touched my neck. “Would you believe whatever I tell you? Do you trust me? Are you mine?”
“You utter bastard.” I spun away from him. “Have I not proven trustworthy? From the start, you said I had to do whatever you said! Have I not followed where you lead?”