by S. Young
“How can you expect me to trust you when you’ve lied about this?”
Wolfe snorted and finally glanced over at me. “You don’t trust me anyway, Lady Rogan.”
I ignored that, especially because it might be true, and snapped, “I demand to know, Captain Stovia.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you demand to know. I’m tired and I’m going to get some sleep. You should too.”
But I wasn’t quite ready to give up, and I did excel at pressing people’s buttons. “The princezna will be so eager to hear that a mage was living in Silvera all this time and he didn’t see fit to tell us.”
This time I flinched at the force of Wolfe’s severe look. “I would advise you to keep it to yourself, Rogan.”
My hands flew to my hips in outraged defiance. “Are you threatening me?” Then the words were out before I could stop them. “Dear haven, you are just like your father!”
I’d never seen Wolfe move so fast. One moment he was on the other side of the room, the next he was inches from me. His eyes were white, his face mottled red with a rage I thought I’d only ever felt. “I’m nothing like my father!” he bellowed. “Nothing!”
I paled in terror, remembering the awesome power at his fingertips.
Wolfe blanched and cursed as he stumbled away from me, giving me his back.
Not knowing what to do, my heart pounding, my cheeks burning, I just stood there as he bedded down on the floor. The silence was so thick, so uneasy, I was shocked either of us could breathe beneath the weight of it.
“You better get some sleep.” Wolfe broke the silence. He sounded defeated.
Guilt consumed me for I knew what I’d said had inflicted damage upon him.
I hurried over to the bed and slid under the sheet he’d left me.
“Here.”
I looked down at the floor to see Wolfe holding a paper bag up to me.
“Thought you might want those back.”
Frowning, curious, I reached over and took it. It contained the bracelets I’d bought for Haydyn and me.
“How did you …?” Some emotion I couldn’t identify constricted my throat.
“You dropped them in the alley. I picked them up before they drugged me. I thought they might be important to you.”
A sharp ache bloomed in my chest and I stifled a noise of distress. Wolfe had been with me the entire time at the market. Why had he taken the time to rescue the cheap little bracelets that only meant something to me? I rolled over, fighting back tears, wishing that the man didn’t cause me so much turmoil.
He was the last man in Phaedra I should ever trust, should ever feel anything toward.
But there was no denying my perception of Wolfe was changing.
Chapter 15
It was an understatement to say I was sore, cranky, and sleep deprived the next morning. My worries, and the man shifting restlessly on the floor all night, had kept me awake.
Suffice it to say that come daylight, we shared little more than grunted responses to one another. Wolfe ordered breakfast to be brought to the room, still convinced I had the potential to cause trouble, and we shoveled down some horrible porridge as quickly as possible.
We then solicited the help of the jolly barkeep to retrieve a messenger for us. We had to wait in a dark corner of the nearly empty tavern looking anywhere but at each other.
Eventually, a tidy, well-put-together young man came in and spoke to the barkeep who in turn pointed in our direction. The young man turned out to be the best horseman in the rookery and made a nice income as a messenger. The barkeep swore we could trust him. Wolfe handed over the sealed letter and paid the messenger to deliver it to the Zansts’ home in the Factory District in Ryl.
“Can we leave now?” I asked, not quite able to hide my impatience. The messenger had departed and yet we remained, Wolfe gazing across the barroom as if in a daydream.
He flinched at the sound of my voice as if it bothered him. A pang of something like hurt flared within me but I refused to recognize Wolfe was capable of eliciting such an emotion from me.
“Yes,” he replied in a low, scratchy voice, and I took some satisfaction in the fact that he hadn’t slept either. “Let’s go.” He grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me to my feet.
“You don’t need to manhandle me,” I hissed as we waved goodbye to the barkeep.
“I need to keep you close in order to protect you.” His grip loosened and moved down my arm until he slid his fingers through mine to hold my hand.
A shiver tingled down my nape. Trying not to focus too much on the heat from his touch—or the not-unpleasant sensation of it—I quipped, “I would have thought you’d be happy to see something happen to me.”
“I’d be happy if you suddenly lost the will to speak.”
I slid him a dark look, which he ignored as he led us across the backyard to the stables. There was nothing and no one in sight.
Including our horse.
“What the …” Wolfe released me as he peered into the empty stables. I walked away from him, checking around the back of the building. It was empty too.
I drew in a breath. How on earth were we going to make it back to Ryl without a horse?
A muffled thud sounded from over my shoulder.
“Wolfe—” I spun around only to find him crumpled on the ground, unconscious, a trickle of blood sliding down his temple.
Wolfe!
Standing over him were three of the dirtiest thugs I had ever seen, each holding a weapon. The tallest leered at me and his yellow teeth flashed as he bounced a mallet off the heel of his palm. The second tallest was an older man, not quite as grubby, his hand-me-down, unwashed clothing that of a gentleman’s. His large hand sat on the hilt of a sword. The third appeared to be the youngest and as he kept jabbing the air with a dagger, I thought perhaps he might be a little deranged. He had a wild look in his eyes that sent a shiver of foreboding down my spine.
I wanted to tend to Wolfe, amazed that these ignorant thugs had crept up on us. Wolfe would never live it down if his men found out how easily he had been felled … again. The fact that I was the common denominator in his failures had not escaped me.
A sound from the thugs drew my attention back to them. “What do you want?” I was proud how brave I sounded, considering my fear.
The man with the mallet quirked an eyebrow. “My, my, we are a haughty wee thing, aren’t we?”
Wolfe chose that moment to groan and my heart skipped a beat in relief.
“Aw shit, Jesper,” the older man spat, “we need to get them back to Boss before this ’un wakes up.”
“You two pick him up.” Jesper gestured to Wolfe, his eyes on me. “I’ll take care of her.”
Oh, dear haven, what the hell had Wolfe and I gotten ourselves into now?
I wanted to collapse and shriek and weep with exhaustion and fury. Didn’t these people know my friend was dying? That if I didn’t save her, then we were all doomed? That I would be doomed? I couldn’t possibly live in a world without Haydyn.
How dare they endanger her!
Just like that, something within me snapped.
As Jesper reached for me, I kicked up between his legs as hard as I could. He let out a bellow of pain and dropped to his knees. Before any of the others could make a move, I slammed my booted foot into the hand that held the mallet, and Jesper cried out as the weapon tumbled from his grip.
“Get her!” he snarled, clutching his hand to his chest.
I dove for the weapon and came up brandishing it as the two thugs crept toward me, the light of violence in their eyes.
“I’ll cut you up you, little bitch, if you don’t play nice,” the young one hissed, swiping the air with the dagger.
“She’s not to be injured!” Jesper shouted as he regained his footing.
“I won’t harm her, Jes-Jes,” the young thug singsonged. “No, she’ll like what I do to her, won’t you, pretty-pretty?”
Revulsion filled me at the idea of this insane
miscreant touching me.
He didn’t know who he was trifling with.
I had a job to do.
I had to get to Alvernia, and no other son of a bitch would get in my way!
Conjuring all my strength, I pulled my elbow back and launched the mallet with all my worth at the young thug’s head. It made perfect aim, clocking him across his skull with a sickening thud. His eyes slammed shut and he fell back with a dull sound, sprawled spread-eagle across the cobbles.
The older of the thugs stared at his downed colleague in shock while Jesper cursed. “For goodness’ sake, lass.” He shook his head in disbelief and then glared at me. “Now you’ve downed Little Sin. We’ll have to come back for him. You won’t get me or Dandy here, all right. We ain’t gonna hurt you, am under orders from Boss not to. So, Dandy here is going to take you, and I’m going to take the boy here, all right? Now, if you don’t make a fuss, I won’t slit the boy’s throat.”
“What do you want?” I whispered, wishing Wolfe would wake up.
“That’s up to Boss to tell you, lass.”
I had no choice but to walk with Dandy as Jesper carried Wolfe over his shoulder, an impressive feat considering how large the captain was. He grunted and groaned about Wolfe’s weight the entire time we walked. My outrage grew as we strode through the dank streets of the rookery and people ignored my pleading looks as we passed. They flinched away from my silent pleas, their eyes washing over my companions in fear before they turned away as quickly as possible, pretending they hadn’t seen a thing. I knew then that I was in the hands of one of the rookery gangs. Someone back at the tavern must have sold us out. Wolfe had been right all along. We spoke too well, held ourselves like a lady and a gentleman. I could only imagine we were being kidnapped for possible ransom.
Again.
Jesper and Dandy slowed as we approached a substantial, crumbling building, the glass panes of its windows broken and cracked, the wide double doors covered in splashed paint. Jesper banged on the door three times and it swung open. A young man with a knife in each hand stood back to let us in.
“Got ’em then, Jesper?”
Jesper laughed and swatted Wolfe’s bottom. “Looks like it, don’t it.”
The boy eyed me as Dandy pushed me inside. I stared around the open space with its large ovens and broken glass, with the grains of sand littering the floor. I guessed we were in a disused glassworks. At the back of the space was a wall, the upper half blocked in with glass that was cracked and shattered in some areas. A doorway led into darker places beyond. There were pieces of old furniture here and there, perhaps a dismal attempt to make the place look cozy.
I froze, taking in the flickering candlelight and the gang of men and women who lounged around the room, their beady eyes watching me. They were like a plague of rats.
“Take ’em through the back to Boss’s room, ’e said.” The boy jerked his head toward the rear of the building.
“He in?”
“Nah. Won’t be long, ’e said.”
Jesper grunted and shifted Wolfe up on his shoulder. I stayed close as we walked through the space, Jesper calling greetings to gang members. I felt a tug on my skirts and turned to see a young, haggard-looking woman clutching at me. She sat sprawled over an old chair, and I yanked out of her hold as she licked her lips. “Jesper, ask Boss if I can have this one.” She grinned up at the man before turning that wicked smile on me. I blushed in understanding, which made her laugh.
Jesper clamped his hand down on my arm.
“She’s for Boss, Nalia. Don’t get any ideas.”
Nalia’s lips twisted into a pout. “But I wants her. She’s pretty, like silk. You knows how I likes silk, Jesper.”
Jesper grunted and pushed me forward before I could dare the little witch to touch me at her peril. We were silent as we walked through steel-gray hallways, until Jesper came to a halt and thrust his foot against a door, shoving it open. The space beyond resembled what could pass for a normal room in this hovel. A brass-framed bed sat in the corner covered with colorful quilts and cushions. A fireplace had a tin bathtub in front of it, a cozy armchair sat off to the side, and knickknacks rested on the mantelpiece. Well-made furniture was placed just so around the room with men’s clothing haphazardly draped here and there.
And the bedroom was clean. Surprisingly so.
“Boss’s room,” Jesper grunted, and then dropped Wolfe on the stone floor as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. I cried out and rushed for the captain just as his eyes began to open. “Shit!” Jesper sighed and reached across the bed for something. In the next moments, I watched helplessly as he tied Wolfe’s wrists to the bottom spindles of the heavy bed frame.
“You’re next.” Jesper strode toward me and I tried to kick out at him again. He dodged and clucked his tongue at me. “Not that again, you wee bitch.”
He lunged, trying to wrench my arms behind my back, but I shrieked and punched and pummeled at him, vaguely aware of Wolfe shouting and struggling from his prison on the floor. Then Jesper’s huge hand came toward me and he hit my face with an almighty blow. My head snapped back and my legs gave way. I was barely aware of Jesper tying my hands behind my back and throwing me onto the bed. Water streamed out of my right eye and I hesitantly lifted my throbbing cheek, wincing at the blazing heat that scored down my face.
“Stay here and behave!” Jesper cried. “Boss will be in soon.”
I struggled into a sitting position as the man slammed the door and turned the key in the lock.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked down at Wolfe.
“Are you all right?” he asked hoarsely, his gaze on my cheek, his jaw clenched so tight, I thought it might shatter.
I huffed and shimmied toward him, trying to get a look at the cut on his head. “Am I all right? Wolfe, they knocked you unconscious.” I hissed at the bloody sight of his wound. “We need to get that cleaned up. Are you feeling well?”
He winced, stretching his legs out before him as he pulled at the ropes. It was futile. He slumped wearily. “I feel a little dizzy.”
“You were out awhile.”
“Noted. Where are we?” He glanced around the room.
I sighed. “We’re in an abandoned glassworks. We’ve been taken by what I assume is a rookery gang.”
Something forbidding burned in his blue eyes. “Did any of them touch you?”
I grinned, thinking about Little Sin. “I knocked out the one who tried.”
Wolfe quirked an eyebrow. “Knocked out?”
I quickly told him how I had incapacitated Jesper and then launched the mallet at Little Sin. Wolfe shook his head in amazement. “Perhaps I should let the men train you.”
Surprised, I grinned. “I told you so.”
He rolled his eyes. “So humble.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
Wolfe tugged at the ropes again. “We need to get out of here, Rogan.”
Ignoring the ripple of sensation that tickled down my spine every time he said my name, I stumbled onto the floor and tried to maneuver myself in front of him.
“What are you doing?” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“I thought you could use your teeth to get the ropes off my wrists,” I explained over my shoulder, thrusting my arms backward at him.
“Rogan, please tell me you’re kidding. Have you seen how thick this rope is?”
“Well, how else are we—”
I hushed at the sound of a key turning in the lock. Wolfe brought a leg up, pulling me back into him so I was sitting between his legs. I realized it was an attempt to shield me from whatever was coming. I felt his indrawn breath on the back of my neck.
We waited, hearts racing, and the door swung open. At first, I couldn’t make out anything except the silhouette of a tall man. And then he strode inside, slowly, leisurely … and I let go a yelp of surprise.
I recognized those green eyes and that jet-black hair, that defiant smirk. He was taller, older, and his face wa
s harder now, but it was no less handsome than it had been when we were young.
“Kir!” I gasped.
The smirk on his face fell as he came to an abrupt halt. “Rogan? Wolfe?”
“Kir!” I laughed a little hysterically, relief flooding through me.
“Holy mother of—” He dropped to his knees and grasped my shoulders, his eyes wide with shock. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Well, it is,” Wolfe grunted from behind me. “Fancy untying us?”
Stunned, he sank back onto his heels, taking a moment.
It was then realization struck.
“You’re Boss?” I asked, trying to keep the condemnation out of my question.
Kir must have heard the accusation anyway, for he winced regretfully. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m Boss.”
Wolfe peered over my shoulder, and I tensed with awareness of his proximity. “So, any intention of letting us go, then?”
The men shared a long look. “I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?”
I was surprised by how congenial the two were, considering Wolfe’s father was Syracen and the fact that Kir had had to live with the bastard for a year. There seemed to be a depth of meaning in his query that I didn’t understand.
Wolfe nodded. “I’m all right, Kir. Except for being kidnapped, that is.”
Seeming to shake himself, Kir gestured to me. “Turn, Rogan. Let me get those off you.”
I shimmied out from Wolfe’s embrace and managed to twist, holding my hands out behind me.
“I’m going to use a blade, so keep still.”
As soon as I was loose, Kir freed Wolfe. He eyed the top of Wolfe’s head and frowned. “I told them not to do any damage. Mind you”—his gaze flickered over Wolfe as he slapped him on the back—“considering how big you’ve gotten, they probably had no choice.”
Wolfe grunted and stumbled to his feet, rubbing his wrists. “Not that it isn’t good to see you, Kir … why the hell did you have us kidnapped?”
I rose to my feet, watching the two men as they faced one another. There was no tension or animosity between them. In fact, they both appeared happy to see each other. I was growing steadily more confused by the second.
