16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
With guests coming to and from the lavatory with increasing frequency, it was almost too simple to dart off to an unoccupied hall. The lamplight diminished the further they ventured, and soon only one lone flicker could be seen from its end.
Lux walked alongside Shaw, their footsteps silent on the plush runner extending the length. Yet another bust of the mayor passed them by with eerie, empty eyes, and she fought the urge to knock it from its mighty perch. She settled for curling her lip at the likeness instead.
A sudden shadow descended from the hall’s end, and Lux flattened against the wall the same moment as Shaw. The Shield continued in another direction, and she exhaled in relief. Peeling herself from the polished stone at her back, she peered around a statue.
Shaw’s breath wafted warm over her ear. “Is it much farther?”
She refused to allow her face to turn into it. What in the world ? It must be that thrice-damned cider’s doing. “Yes.” The end of this hall would branch into three. They would need to take the center route, following it to a lacquered door with a stamped handle.
Instead of confiding any of that information in him, she stepped around the statue, hurrying along the corridor. She moved fast, but her legs were far from long. Shaw’s strides sent her into a jog only to keep up.
Far sooner than she was ready for it, the lone lamp hung above them, highlighting their forked path. Shaw glanced down, expectant.
“We can’t be caught.” She forced her imagination to cease bombarding her with images of their capture as she angled her face toward his.
The small flame had turned Shaw’s eyes a molten gold beneath his mask. Lux’s blood warmed, and she immediately pulled her gaze away before it could travel much further.
“I hadn’t realized. Any further advice?”
She fixed him with a glare only to feel it fade. He played with her, the edge of his lips hitched up in a half-smile. That traitorous flush returned, crashing through her veins.
“Only one: I think it best if you didn’t speak any longer.”
The hall was dark, though nowhere near as dark as the door now looming tall before them. Lux’s hand hovered over the gold handle, a forked tongue protruding from a gaping mouth and stamped with the letter T . She’d been here once before. She never thought she’d return.
Shaw grew impatient. She could feel him, stiff at her back. His arm brushed hers when he reached around her, but she didn’t move, allowing him to turn the knob and push the door inward.
A cascade of yellow light and the stink of old cigar smoke welcomed them in. The circular room possessed no windows; a decision made by the mayor no one could question. Lux glanced over the walls lined with flickering lamps until her gaze found the sprawling desk. She strode toward it, Shaw moving to investigate the glass-encased shelving about the room. It was neat. Too neat. She worried any item slightly moved out of place would alert the mayor of their trespassing. Wrinkling her nose against the lingering scent of the mayor’s cologne, she slid open the first drawer anyway.
Reports. Stacks of them. Her fingers slid over the first page’s edge: a description of the sickness sweeping through the Dark. The mayor had signed it: Bartleby Tamish. A sentence-long note following:
Contamination—will investigate further if it crosses.
Crosses . If it crosses to the Light. Her blood boiled even as she wasn’t the least bit surprised. How convenient for him that it hadn’t. How very convenient—
Her gaze flicked to Shaw’s broad back as he reached behind a stack of leather-bound books.
“Shaw.” He turned, softly closing the glass. “Does it strike you as odd that with the number of casualties of this sickness, it hasn’t yet crossed to the other side of the city?”
He navigated around the furniture. “What did you find?” She handed the page to him, and he shook his head. “It may be a matter of luck. Or time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. But something tells me different. What if he’s growing desperate for more lifeblood? What if he’s allowing the poor of Ghadra to die for it?”
Shaw’s jaw clenched; his eyes bore into the page.
Click.
In tandem, their attention swung to the door. Shaw shoved the paper back onto the stack, pushing the drawer closed. Lux knocked a pen out of place and fumbled to right it. The handle began to turn .
His gaze narrowed on her. “Don’t hit me.”
“Why—”
Strong hands gripped her waist, pulling her in, and before Lux could question him further, his lips came down onto her own.
Warmth.
It dragged her under.
She gasped a drowning breath; it was his air she pulled. Unfurling and lengthening, heat spread throughout every inch of her skin, pulsing, relentless, with every feverish beat of her heart. Lux’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her body curling into the sensation as if it couldn’t get enough.
And she couldn’t. She couldn’t get enough .
She wanted to burn with it.
Shaw’s lips moved and hers followed. They were so soft when compared to the scrape of his chin, and even though he tasted of wine, she didn’t mind. Not even a little. Her hand moved to grip the back of his neck. His fingers tightened against her, releasing bolts of fire in their wake. Lux sighed into his open mouth. To speak of bliss would be to describe this kiss, and she would surely—
“INTRUDERS!”
The two of them sprang apart, cheeks flushed, bodies tight. Lux tore her eyes from Shaw’s smoldering gaze to take in the white uniform of the Shield in the doorway.
She dropped her hip. She bit her lip. “Oops. May we not be here?”
The man sputtered, “In the mayor’s personal office? Of course not!”
Shaw turned with a suggestive grin that Lux would never have thought him capable of. “We were looking for the lavatory.”
A hand then ran the length of her, making her frantic heart bound and cheeks heat further. She licked her lips as he pulled her flush against him. “Right. The lavatory. ”
The Shield’s jaw tightened. “Get out.”
Lux released the breathiest giggle, making her own stomach churn in the process. “Our apologies, good sir.”
Shaw saluted with a wave of his hand, and the Shield curled his lip as they swayed past. She could hear him muttering long after.
“Drunks. I loathe these frivolous parties.”