“I’ve known Erik since we were little. He was the first person to ever try and get to know me.” Her lips quirked slightly, as if she were going to smile. She pushed it back. This wasn’t a happy story. “When Erik’s mother died, he started showing up with bruises on his face, and excuses. Always more excuses.” Narra shook her head. “I don’t know how I’d never seen it before, but his father Henrick had always been a drunk and an abuser. While his mother was alive she protected Erik, but when he finally killed her, Erik was left to defend himself. At ten years old, Erik was beaten daily. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Hot tears sprung to her eyes. Images of Erik’s small, rounded cheeks, pointed nose, and purple bruises flashed before her eyes. She saw him like it was yesterday, coming through the back door of her uncle’s bar with a lopsided smile on his face, a black eye and a busted lip. It was the first time Narra remembered feeling the flames of her rage consume her. She’d screamed and cried at Erik to do something. But Erik was young, and he couldn’t overpower Henrick. She’d hated that man for what he’d done to her friend. She hated him more than she hated even her own father.
“I don’t know how many times I stabbed him,” Narra said. “I didn’t stop until blood was all I could see.” She paused, the gruesome memory flashing before her eyes. Red soaked her hands and Henrick’s chest. She straddled his waist, even as his skin cooled and the bleeding slowed. “When Erik came home and saw what I’d done, he cried, and I thought he was angry. I thought my only friend would hate me forever.” She smiled. “You want to know what he did?”
Asher nodded solemnly.
“He hugged me like no one else had before, like a lifeline, like a brother, and he thanked me for killing his father, because he’d never had the guts to do it.” Her fists unfurled and her breath whooshed from her lungs. Relief relaxed her shoulders. It felt good to finally tell someone. Though they’d covered her tracks and gotten rid of the body, she’d never told anyone what she’d done.
“You saved his life,” Asher said.
Narra met his eyes, her eyebrows pulling together. What?
“If you hadn’t killed his father, he would have kept on hurting your friend. He might very well be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew where he was going with this.
“That’s why I protect my son,” Asher continued. “If I don’t, he could very well end up dead because of who he is and what he does.”
Narra bit her lip and swept loose strands of hair behind her ear. Maybe he was right. She did love Erik enough to kill his father, to protect him when no one else did. But her actions killed an abusive alcoholic and Asher’s condemned innocent people to death. They weren’t the same. Their actions weren’t equal.
“We should go,” she said. Cold wind chilled her fire.
Asher nodded. “We should.”
Narra turned to the downhill slope that led to the warehouse district and the City Docks.
The moon rose high in the night sky by the time they reached the pirate ship. Dim lanterns lit the deck, and only a few foul-smelling men littered the barrels and crates leaning against the mast. They sneered as she stepped aboard, but made no move for their weapons. Avalon must have told them she was coming .
Asher’s boots thunked onto the deck beside her. He glared at the familiar pirate-men who’d subdued him the night before.
“I’m here for Avalon,” she said.
While the man with the bandana cackled and twisted a loose tooth with his tongue, the man with the hoop in his ear took off for Avalon’s quarters.
“You prettied up for us this time, eh?” he chortled, flicking his tongue against his dry lips.
Narra placed her hands on her hips. She reminded herself to never again wear this dress, especially in front of pigs like him. Ignoring the pirate, Narra crossed her arms and faced the stern of the ship where atop a small set of stairs sat a large wooden wheel, ready to steer the ship out to sea.
Heels clacked up the worn wood, hollow in the narrow corridor. Narra glanced at the entrance in time to see Avalon emerge, a tight red velvet jacket in place, pressing her large breasts together before flaring at her hips clad in leather.
“Rheka ,” she purred. Her earlier vulnerability was gone, replaced with the devious pirate captain façade. “You’re back so soon.” Her black eyes roamed Narra’s cleavage, tight bodice and bare thighs. Her smile turned into a wide, toothy grin. “How kind of you to dress up for my crew.”
“I have your potion,” Narra said, her tone flat. She didn’t have time for the captain’s games. She wanted her information. It was so close that her skin tingled and her fingers itched.
“Very well.” Avalon spun on her heels and motioned for her to follow. Narra sighed and pursued the captain to her quarters, while Asher stationed himself at the hall entrance, crossing his arms and standing straight as if he were her bodyguard. She had to resist rolling her eyes as she passed.
Avalon flung open her door and Narra stepped into the husky smell of roasted venison and sea salt. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. It had been a long time since she had meat so fine.
“You have it?” Avalon deposited her captain’s hat on her desk and turned to face the thief as Kaja the tiger yawned from a bed of thick pillows. The cat eyed Narra, but made no move to stand.
Narra nodded and plucked the small glass bottle from a pocket in her skirts below the tight grip of her corset. Purple liquid winked beneath the warm lamplight. Narra started. How could she not had realized it before? The warm violet mirrored the shot she’d been given upon her arrival to the Dollhouse. Her heart squeezed and she snapped her teeth shut on a groan. She hadn’t gotten an antidote for Avalon’s sister at all—she’d gotten an ecstasy-inducing drug.
“Do you know much about the Dollhouse?” Narra asked, hesitating as she met the captain’s eyes. She didn’t want to lie to the captain, especially if her sister was the one poisoned.
Avalon arched an eyebrow. “Only that it is where rich men take their dirty mistresses.” She smiled, the idea seeming to entice instead of disgust her.
“That’s not all it is.” Avalon’s smile dropped. “You’re forced to take a drink when you enter, one that dilutes your mind and leaves you euphoric and out of control.” Narra motioned at the vial. “I believe that is what Mistress Maxina gave us.”
The pirate captain’s dark eyes narrowed at the vile. Her teeth set and her breathing grew heavy.
“That wench,” she growled.
“I don’t know if she has a cure, or who told you she did, but she didn’t give it to us. Most of her concoctions seemed to be alcoholic in nature.” Narra paused. “I doubt very much she has the remedy to any Rovan poison.”
Avalon worked her jaw. Her eyes flashed between blind fury and hopelessness. The boat shifted beneath them suddenly and Narra had to grab the wall to keep from falling. Her stomach turned. Avalon looked up quickly, and the boat stilled beneath their feet. What was that? Narra’s eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t know much about Rupan pirates, but once she’d heard a rumor that Sea Witches commanded some of their vessels, controlling both the seas and the weather. Could the rumor be true?
“Thank you,” Avalon said through gritted teeth. “It’s not your fault.” The woman sighed, tossing the vial onto her table before collapsing into the chair behind her desk. Her limbs sagged over the arms of oak.
Why did Narra feel sorry for this woman? She didn’t know her, or her sister. Yet, the look of devastation on her face was nearly too much to bear.
Avalon stared at her map of Rupa, seemingly lost in thought. “The man you’re looking for is staying at the Nedan Inn.”
Narra’s heart lurched in surprise. The inn and bar would still be open, mere blocks from her uncle’s tavern. She’d been inside many times to barter for information, and she knew the owner well. She’d be able to find Mikael Ruvand without further trouble.
A sigh of relief brushed wisps of unruly
hair from her face.
“Thank you,” she said.
Avalon nodded. Her eyes didn’t leave the map, tracing a line from Rupa’s shores, north to Rova. Could she be calculating how long her sister had left?
Narra worked her jaw. “I wish you and your sister well.”
The captain glanced up. She hadn’t told Narra about her sister, yet Maxina had known. Avalon sighed. “Thank you, Rheka. Good luck.”
She gave the pirate a curt nod.
Narra left Avalon’s quarters and met Asher on the main deck. He followed without question. Time to go and get what she was looking for. In mere hours she may very well have her answers.
At last, she would know what happened to her father.
N arra’s heart raced as she padded across the docks, the wooden planks dipping beneath her feet until she returned to solid ground.
At last she would find the elusive Mikael Ruvand.
Her fists clenched as she raced back to the main road. Asher’s boots beat the ground behind her. His breaths came in hurried huffs, fogging the cold night air.
“Rheka!” He jogged to keep up. “Wait a moment!”
Narra scarcely glanced over her shoulder. “There isn’t time. We have an entire city to cross.”
Her feet ached in her heeled velvet boots. She wished for her familiar leather straps and harness—pants would be a blessing too. She hadn’t a clue why women would choose to strut around in frilly things all day. The ruffles trailed along the dirty ground, snagging every few feet. She bunched her pinstripe skirts in her hands and kept walking.
“Where are we going?” Asher asked. Finally he caught up to her lengthy stride.
“Nedan Inn,” she said. Determination set her gaze.
“Where is that? ”
“Criminal district.”
“It’ll take hours on foot!” Asher groaned, his pace lagging as she scaled the hill. Irritation flashed through her. She didn’t need him there. If he thought the journey too arduous, he could leave her be, preferably for good.
“You have a better way?” Sarcasm bit off each of her words.
“Yes.” Asher stopped at an intersection beneath a flickering streetlamp.
The stench of dead fish clung to her nostrils. She glared at the neighboring warehouse. “What is it?”
“The trolleys, of course.”
The distant creak of the trolley pulled her gaze from the shadows to the adjacent street. She couldn’t see it yet, but it was coming.
“Did you forget that my face is still plastered across the city?” She leveled him a look . She didn’t have time for this. She could have been up another entire block by now.
“It’s late,” he began, holding her gaze. “As long as you keep your head low, you’ll be fine. You look nothing like your poster with all… that.” He gestured at her face. Narra narrowed her eyes through dark lacquered lashes.
“We can’t risk it.” She crossed her arms.
“Rheka , it is late . The driver will be half asleep. He’ll never look twice.” Asher reached for her shoulder in some gesture of comfort. Narra stepped out of his reach.
“And if they do?”
“Then I’ll be there to—”
Fire lit her chest, as she was sure it lit her eyes.
“—aid you in your escape.”
The creak of the trolley grew louder as it rounded the western bend. It was simply her luck that it was already headed east, just where they wanted to go. If they did hop on, they’d be there in plenty of time to find the corporal and interrogate him. But if they walked the entire way, it could be hours before their arrival. The corporal might very well be long gone.
Narra heaved a sigh and went over to the trolley stop marked by a thin metal pole with a faded green placard atop it. A bench sat beside it, worn oak with a light dusting of frost upon its seat. She crossed her arms and waited. Asher joined her, a large grin on his face. She refused to look at him until the muted red trolley squealed to a stop.
The front door opened with a squeak, and out poured warm air in a heavy gust. It brushed back her hair and smoothed the irritation from her face.
A bushy haired Rovan man sat inside with his hands upon several levers and thick bronze gears. He stared at them expectantly. Narra stepped forward, but before she could mount the steps, Asher slipped an arm around her, partially blocking her from view as he ushered her in.
“After you, milady,” Asher said, a strangely charismatic smile on his lips.
Narra raised an eyebrow and slipped inside, keeping her head low as if she were shy or blushing. Her heels clacked up the steps.
“Good evening,” the driver said. Asher hurried after her, exchanging a wink with the driver. Heat rose to her cheeks. What was it this time? Was she his mistress all over again?
Narra slipped to the very back of the trolley, taking a seat beneath a heat vent in the ceiling. Warm air brushed her skin and hair. She sighed blissfully, until Asher crowded her in the seat. His cold clothing pressed against hers as he nearly stuffed her into the hardwood. She narrowed her eyes, ready to bark an order for him to back off.
Heavy boots clobbered the front steps, deep voices permeating the soft thrum of the engine below. Her eyes went wide.
Two Patrolmen mounted the trolley.
“Evening, sirs,” the driver said, nodding his black-rimmed hat at them.
“Evening,” they said in unison. They sat at the front; their navy blue uniforms nearly identical save for the stripes at their shoulders. One stripe for corporal. Two for sergeant.
Emperor’s ancestors .
“What have you done?” she hissed in his ear. Her whole body tensed, ready to jump up and run. He glanced at her, his face much closer than she’d like. His nose nearly brushed hers. His fingers closed around her forearm as if sensing her need for flight.
Asher shook his head slightly, and then relaxed his shoulders and aimed his chest towards her. His dark coat blocked out the two Patrolmen as he slid an arm behind her, resting it on the back of the seat. So he meant to hide her? Through the bright interior, all it would take was a single met glance and they’d see her. They’d see a naizer with a rich man. How scandalous. Her heartbeat skipped. What if they recognized him? Would they report the sighting, endanger Asher and force him to reveal all he knew?
Her heartbeat sped up and her eyes widened. They had to get off the trolley now .
She moved to stand. Asher’s fingers tightened around her forearm, digging into her skin. She shot him a glare, but his determined stare silenced her.
He shook his head and released her arm. Narra leaned back, peeking at the Patrolmen in the window’s reflection. They both yawned, rubbing their eyes and sighing heavily as they lounged in their seats, chatting idly with the driver. The sergeant’s gaze flickered to Asher’s back. No. He was curious. They were being too suspicious crowded in the back.
What could she do? How could she avoid suspicion? Her mind raced with thoughts and her eyes met Asher’s. His breath brushed the strands of hair from her face, warm against her cold cheeks.
Her mind returned to earlier in the evening, when ecstasy ran through her veins and his lips melded with hers.
That’s how she’d distract the Patrolmen.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she leaned forward. Asher stiffened, his arm and leg rigid against hers. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. While hers were cold, his were hot. He hesitated only a moment before pressing back. His gloved hand found the side of her neck, and she pushed closer.
Narra glanced in the reflection, only one eye open. The two Patrolmen chuckled and nudged each other, smiling before settling back into their conversation.
There was nothing suspicious about young love.
His tongue brushed her lips and the heat whooshed from her body. What was she doing? She pulled back. She didn’t want this any more than he did. She cleared her throat and avoided the general’s eyes. While she could feel his eyes on her, she didn’t dare look
at him or try to gauge his thoughts. He was a distraction, a simple way out of a bad situation. After tonight, his debt would be paid and she would never see him again.
Narra took a deep breath and waited.
The dark streets of the warehouse district gave way to the slightly brighter, but very much empty shopping district. Once through the vapid section of the city, the trolley lurched to a stop in the only place she’d ever called home.
Asher stood first, his bulky frame blocking her from sight. Narra came to her feet next, holding onto the metal bars beside the back door as she fled from the warmth of the trolley and the confusion of her thoughts.
Her heels clacked against cobblestone. Asher leapt down behind her. She was already several paces away, her heart back to racing.
Tattered apartments of stone and brick rose on both sides of the narrow street. Garbage littered the alleys between homes, and several cats shrieked in the night. Narra sighed in relief. Home.
The warmth of Asher’s presence followed her down the dark street.
“That kiss was unexpected.”
Narra bristled.
“The Patrolmen were getting suspicious,” she snapped. She stormed ahead, her long legs making greater headway given the man she wanted to escape. She ignored Asher’s chuckle and walked faster, until the Nedan Inn came into view about half a block away.
A tall two-story A-frame home sat nestled between an abandoned warehouse and a shoddy grocer with boards plastered over the windows. The wooden placard with Nedan Inn scrawled across in black hung by a single hook on a black metal pole sticking horizontally over the thick oak entrance. She shoved the door open.
The roar of bar chatter washed over her, welcome and familiar. She smoothed her expression and marched inside, the clack of her heels muffled by roaring laughter, the shaking of tables and scrapping of chairs.
Narra knew this place. She was safe here. The familiarity of the men—thieves, gang members and murderers-for-hire—somehow calmed her rattled nerves and brought on her usual cold demeanor.
Clockwork Thief Box Set Page 18
