Текст книги "The poison daughter"

Автор книги: Sheila Masterson

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 48 страниц)

38HENRY

The North Hold sitting room is ostentatious and far too warm for the heavy coat I’m wearing. The servant who answered the door offered to take it three times in the short walk from the front door to this room, but I don’t plan to stay long.

Now I wish I had just let him have it. Sweat rises on my lower back, and my heart pounds. As I strain to hear any hint of movement in the large manor, I realize it’s not just the heat of the fire that has me sweating. I’m nervous.

The servant who brought me into this room disappeared to find Rafe, but it’s not the mayor that I’m anxious about meeting. It’s my new sister-in-law.

If Aidia doesn’t like me, I have no doubt she will have a way to make sure Harlow knows it. And one veto from the person my wife loves most will be enough to wipe out all the progress I’ve made.

A set of wing-backed chairs stands in front of the fireplace, and a wolf-skin rug is laid out in front of the fire. The mantel and every other surface in the room are covered with crystal trinkets and blown-glass vases. The curtains are a heavy, dark brocade.

Everything about the design screams of wanting to appear wealthy, but the sheer volume of expensive objects counteracts the desired impression.

The walls are covered in art, including a large portrait of Rafe over the mantel. I search the numerous paintings for someone who resembles my wife. Maybe Aidia doesn’t look like her at all, but there’s such a strong resemblance between the rest of the siblings, I have to assume. If there was even a hint of a personal touch in Carrenwell House, I would know, but Harlow’s parents prefer a more sterile, museum-like environment.

I walk farther into the room, scanning the artwork. Finally, at the very corner of the wall, by the windows, I find a small portrait. The woman looks like Harlow, with the same dark hair and full lips, but there’s an intensity in her eyes that is more severe.

Rafe keeps her as tucked away in this room as he does in the rest of his life. I don’t know how Harlow bears knowing that her sister is here and suffering. If it were Holly in this situation, I would have ripped the man’s throat out.

I look around the room and consider Harlow’s theory. Could Rafe Mattingly really be both the mayor and the leader of the rebellion without anyone knowing? Harlow is too biased against the man to be a reliable source. I can understand why, but I have to get a feel for him myself.

That’s why I didn’t just leave word with the servant who answered the door moments ago. That and I’d like to actually meet Aidia Carrenwell since she’s the one person Harlow respects.

I think about the way Harlow took in that spectacle earlier today. She didn’t get reassurance from her family’s words. She assessed what had happened the previous night based on their actions, which in itself was telling. It’s clear she has a lot of experience reading nonverbal cues.

Footsteps sound in the hall, and a moment later, a man appears in the doorway to the sitting room. He’s dressed in an elegant suit, his hair perfectly combed. “Welcome to North Hold, Mr. Havenwood. I’m Mr. Mattingly’s butler, Paul. How can I help you this evening?”

“I was hoping to personally extend an invitation to our post-wedding celebration dinner tomorrow. I know it’s late notice, but it would mean a lot to me and Harlow if we could have the whole family together.” I sound so awkward speaking this formally. I don’t want to be the brute these people think I am, and I was raised with proper manners, but the words still feel stiff.

“I’m afraid you’ve just missed Mr. Mattingly.”

I nod and look toward the sitting room door. “Is there anyone else I could formally deliver the invitation to? I’m just trying to do things right by my new wife.”

Paul smiles warmly. “I’m afraid not, but rest assured that I’ll make sure he gets your invitation as soon as he arrives home.” He hesitates and lowers his voice. “You might be able to catch him later out and about, but right now, Mr. Mattingly is stopping to visit the unblessed prisoners in lockup.”

“Oh? Is that a thing he does often?”

The butler nods fervently. “Seems it happens at least once a week now with so many of them protesting the double blood well tithes.”

“It’s thoughtful of him to visit,” I say.

Paul presses a hand to his heart. “He cares deeply about this community. There’s never a day when he isn’t worrying. He brings many of them bread and also delivers funds to the incarcerated families so they can survive in the meantime.”

Now that is interesting. Rafe is friendly to blood tithe dissenters and their families. He’s doing anything he can for loyalty, but also, a man like Rafe Mattingly would have the access to come and go freely from lockup. He’s clearly used it as a way to ingratiate himself with people in dire circumstances—and that makes me loathe him more.

Paul looks at me expectantly.

“That’s very generous of him,” I say, a beat too late. “I’m disappointed I missed him, but I’m sure Harlow will understand.”

Paul hesitates a moment. “Well, he has a meeting at the Living Nightmare after his lockup visit. It’s a bar in the northeast quadrant. You might be able to catch him there in an hour or so.”

Forcing my warmest smile, I thank him and turn to go. I cast one last look toward the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of my new sister-in-law, but there’s no one coming. Rafe must have her locked away for the night. If she’s anything like her sister, I almost understand the desire to contain her, but if everything Harlow says is true, I’d appreciate Aidia’s wanting to get out.

I owe the woman no loyalty, just like I owe Harlow none, but it still grates on me that she’s stuck here with an abuser and Harlow is the only one doing anything to try to get her out. What kind of family would expect such loyalty?

I sigh. The same kind that would send another daughter off with the family they tried to wipe out ten years ago.

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. How I feel is irrelevant. I just need to deliver this message to Rafe or at least make my best attempt so I can go back to South Hold and tell them I tried.

Two hours of waiting at Living Nightmare has yielded me nothing but a mild buzz and a ringing in my ears from the boisterous music.

The fiddlers play at a volume more appropriate for a large ballroom instead of this small, dark bar. The power went out earlier, casting the room in darkness for a moment before the owners brought out candles and the party started back up again.

The flickering candlelight bounces off the patrons and the large firebird rising above them, painted on the wall of the bar.

The bartender, an older man with an alert and constantly moving gaze, has kept my glass full since I sat down. He returns again, but I wave him off and throw a few coins on the bar.

Maybe Rafe’s butler was just trying to haze me, or maybe his boss got caught up with something else. Whatever the reason, I need to get back to South Hold.

Standing, I take one last look around the bar, pull on my coat, and head toward the long hallway that leads to the rear exit. A door creaks open in the corridor and several men shuffle out. I pause at the end of the narrow hallway, and they walk by with their heads cast down.

As soon as the last man clears the hall, I walk to the back door and out into the cold night air.

The rear courtyard of the bar is small. Some iron furniture is stacked in the corner, likely meant for outdoor drinking and merriment in fairer weather. A large statue looms to the left of the bar doorway.

It’s Divine Asher. I’m so stunned to see the Divine of Endings with any sort of shrine or honor here in Lunameade. He’s depicted in dark gray stone, with a snake eating its tail wrapped around his neck.

Asher’s stories are popular here, but there’s a strange superstition that talking about him too much will welcome his presence in your life and rob you of a loved one. It’s rare to find art depicting him or Kennymyra in Lunameade. City folk probably think nothing of it, but it stands out to me after growing up at the fort, where Asher and Kennymyra are praised and reflected as much as the rest of the Divine.

The sound of rhythmic footsteps startles me from staring, and I turn to the courtyard entrance as Kellan Carrenwell and twenty of his city guards walk through. He stops as soon as he sees me, his expression shifting from surprise to confusion.

“Henry? What are you doing here?” he asks.

The fact that I’m surrounded by city guards makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong, but I force a smile. “I just thought I’d get a drink after extending our post-wedding dinner invitation to North Hold at your mother’s request. I didn’t realize this was a bar that honored Asher, but I guess I should have, given the name.”

Kellan looks past me toward the door. “Were you meeting anyone?”

I shake my head.

Kellan says something to the man beside him that I can’t quite make out, and his guards file past me into the bar. He waits until the door closes behind the last of them before he speaks.

“We received a tip that there was a rebel meeting here tonight. Did you see anything?”

It takes all of my self-control not to react. “No. It just seemed like a normal bar.”

It’s possible that this was just a coincidence. Maybe Divine Harvain has cursed me with wretched luck. But I know the more likely scenario.

Rafe set me up. Or his butler did. But how could they know I was coming? Maybe Harlow was right and Rafe was supposed to be there because he is Rochelli. Or maybe he was coming out the back door of North Hold when I was coming in the front and told his butler to set me up, then tipped Kellan off to try to create tension between our families.

If what Harlow says is true and our alliance does actually help her family and solidify their stronghold in the city, then it makes sense for him to try to disrupt that.

I feel like a fool. He set a trap, and I stepped right into it.

“I just needed a break from your sister.”

Kellan’s face relaxes as he laughs. “I bet you do.”

I look beyond him, at the courtyard exit. I really don’t want to have to fight my way past my new brother-in-law. He is Harlow’s only family member who doesn’t seem completely awful.

“I should really be getting back,” I say, and to my surprise, Kellan steps out of the way and lets me pass.

“Keep her safe,” he says as I walk by him.

“I will.”

It’s not until I’m through the courtyard walls and out on the street that I realize I mean those words.

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39HARLOW

My bedroom is dark when I step inside. The fire has gone out, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

A dark shape in the chair at the corner of the room makes me jump. But it’s just Henry’s bag, dumped there carelessly by a servant. My things had better be hanging in the closet, because I cannot abide my mother’s scolding about wrinkled dresses.

Henry will be back soon, which means I need to decide if I want to wait here to see if Aidia shows, or chance a visit to Bea to find out what she knows about the missing women.

I’m so restless. Going to Mountain Haven is the first time I’ve ever been more than a city away from my sister. While I know Aidia wasn’t hurt by the Drained, that doesn’t mean she’s not hurt at all. Until I can look at her again, I’ll be plagued by this same restlessness.

Swiping the poker from beside the fireplace, I prod at the coals to see if I can restart the blaze. The steel scrapes against stone, but there’s no life left in the fire. I’ll have to call someone to get it restarted. In the meantime, I swipe matches from the mantel and light the three candles on the candelabra atop it. The second after I blow out the match, I hear the sound of fabric swishing.

“Are you kidding me with this red lace, Harlow? I know you’re married, but this is downright indecent.”

I turn at the sound of Aidia’s voice and dart to my closet. There she stands, pointing at a hanger holding some of the red lace undergarments Henry had made for me. The sight of her waggling her eyebrows at my underwear unknots something stuck in my chest.

“What’s the point of this? It covers nothing,” she says, flicking her finger over a tiny satin bow.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the point,” I counter.

Her voice is light, but she keeps her face in the shadows as she walks toward me.

I want to grab her and hug her, to bury my face in her hair and smell her floral scent. But she stops in the doorway. She’s keeping her distance.

When she finally tilts her face toward the light, I know why. Her whole left cheek is mottled with bruises, her lip split.

A sickening sense of familiarity hits me. I have seen this too many times before.

I force myself not to react, but I already know from her expression that my aura has slipped, surging out around me like a golden halo.

“My heart,” I rasp.

She smiles sadly. “My bones.”

“Our blood,” we say in unison.

She’s okay. She’s safe.

Except we have never been safe.

The tension that left me earlier returns. I want to touch her, but I can tell by the way she moves so gingerly and keeps her face away from the light as she circles me that she can’t take it. My heart is in my throat. I swear I’ve seen her looking worse, but something about her presence in my closet fills me with dread.

“I can’t stay long,” she says, glancing at the door. “Your husband’s arrival caused enough excitement for me to slip out without any of the servants noticing.”

“Did Rafe try to stop him?” I ask.

“Rafe wasn’t there. I didn’t want to meet him myself until I knew if you were okay.” She smirks. “And until I knew whether I should give him a hug or punch him in the face.”

I laugh.

Aidia shushes me. “You undersold him a bit, Low. You said he was tallish with dark hair. That man is devastating. What is he, seven feet tall?”

I roll my eyes. “Six-foot-five max.”

Aidia fans herself dramatically. “And those muscles.” She blows out an exaggerated sigh. “That coat must be Divine-blessed, because I swear one flex of his arms and it would be shredded. He looks like he could throw you around—and, frankly, you’ve needed a good fuck these last few years. You were getting pretty uptight.”

I glare at her. “I’ve had plenty of good fucks.”

Aidia whistles low, ignoring me entirely. “And those eyes. Bleeding woods! I’d be on my back day and night.”

I roll my eyes.

“How was the wedding? Did you really do a sex ritual?”

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt?” she asks.

A pleasant shiver runs up my spine as I recall that night. “Only when I wanted it to.”

Aidia’s jaw drops. “I knew it. Did you have fun?”

“Once I got over the weirdness of so many people watching. But there was this whole part where he had to give me an orgasm to get a blessing from Kennymyra in this ornate bed, and I came so hard I broke their centuries-old sigil.”

“What!” The word is part shrill laugh and part gasp.

“Aidy—hush!” I glance at the door, hoping Gaven hasn’t heard her.

She smothers her laugh with a hand. “Say more immediately.”

At her urging, I give the quickest recounting of the wedding events, and she listens with her jaw progressively becoming more slack.

“Oh, he is going to fall in love,” she says. “Without a doubt. That man has no chance. You’re too beautiful for him to resist. How has the sex been since?”

I lick my lips. “We haven’t⁠—”

“Harlow Catherine Carrenwell! That man gave you an ancient-sigil-breaking orgasm and you haven’t fucked him again?” She points to the lingerie. “You have a closet full of the most intricate lingerie I’ve ever seen, and you haven’t used any of it.” She scoffs. “What a waste! You don’t deserve to have the best boobs in the family if you’re not going to use them to seduce our enemies.”

I stifle a laugh. “You’re right. I’m a terrible Carrenwell.”

Aidia’s bright smile slips into concern. “You promise you’re okay?”

I nod. “I did sleepwalk one night and Henry found me on the balcony in the rain. I don’t remember ever sleepwalking before.”

“You did it when we were younger, remember?” Aidia says. “You used to relive things from your day. Dance lessons once. There were a few others, but I can’t quite remember. Maybe it will come to you if you try to remember the last time you were on a balcony?”

I frown. I really don’t, but there’s a hint of desperation in her voice and her eyes are clouded.

“Aidy, can you hang in there? Just until after Dark Star Festival.”

She cocks her head to the side. “I can hold out a day longer than Rafe. Always. You know this.” Her voice is full of forced lightness. “Speaking of the monster. I should go.”

She walks back into the closet and it takes a tremendous amount of restraint to not grab her and drag her into a hug, but her ribs are probably still bruised and I don’t want to cause her any more pain.

Aidia pauses with her hand on the passageway door. “Low?” Her voice is so serious, it sends a chill through me. “Tell Henry to go down on you like he’s trying to honor the Divine again, because I’ve never seen your aura look more radiant.” She smirks at me over her shoulder.

I pull off my silk slipper and toss it at her. It hits the door as she wrenches it closed behind her.

It was good to hear her laugh—to fall back into easy teasing.

I blow out three slow breaths, but my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I saw her bruises. The room feels too hot and stuffy.

Henry should be back any minute. If I don’t go now, I’ll lose my chance to get out.

Riffling through the dresses in my closet until I find the most indecent one I own, I slip out of my dinner dress and into the red lingerie Aidia was waving at. I slide the gown over my head, and the silk is so fine and delicate that it shows the texture of the lace below. Though the lingerie is bright, the dress is such a deep red, it looks almost black.

I tuck my feet into matching slippers and pull on my coat. Then, I sneak out the closet passageway.

OceanofPDF.com

40HARLOW

Guardian’s Crossing is so packed, I have to shove my way through three drunk old men doing a linked-arm line dance just to get to the bar.

Bea has a glass of whiskey waiting for me. I’d prefer wine, but I’ll settle for anything to take the edge off of seeing Aidia. She’s fine. At least as fine as she can be considering the circumstances, and yet I’m still full of nervous, churning energy.

I take a long gulp of the whiskey.

Bea clicks her tongue. “That’s good stuff. Don’t gulp it like it’s common swill. You’ve only been out with the wild mountain people a few Divine damn days.”

I lick my lips as I place the glass down on the bar and grin at her. Bea looks beautiful as always. Her short hair is twisted back from her face, a flower tucked behind her ear. No doubt it’s Josie’s touch. Bea has never been one to accessorize.

She pulls a few beers for the men on the stools beside me and grabs a rag to wipe down the bar. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” she says, rubbing at a nonexistent stain in front of me.

“I was summoned.”

She frowns but still doesn’t look at me. “They call. You come.”

“Not for long.”

Finally, she meets my eyes. “Oh?”

I nod. “I think I finally have a way to get everything I want, but that’s a conversation for somewhere more private.”

She nods her head toward the back room, and I round the bar and follow her through the curtain into the dim stock room.

As soon as I step inside, I take off my coat and toss it onto her desk in the corner. Her face shifts from annoyance that I’ve disturbed her stacks of papers to appreciation for the gown.

She whistles. “Bleeding woods! Every time I think you can’t wear something less appropriate in public, you go and one-up yourself.”

I smooth my hands down the deep red silk. “Thank you for noticing. I’d been saving it for a special occasion. After being naked in front of all the magical families of Mountain Haven, I figured why not.”

“So it has nothing to do with your new husband?” Bea challenges.

I shrug a shoulder. “If Henry is agitated by my choice of dress, that’s merely an added bonus.”

Bea laughs, the sound a smooth, melodic alto that’s all at once familiar and foreign. I used to collect those laughs like precious coins, but we’ve laughed far too little these last few months.

“What’s your new deal?” Bea asks.

Bea doesn’t know everything about my family. There are many things I can’t tell her for her safety. It was a huge sticking point in our relationship. She didn’t understand that my not telling her things wasn’t because I didn’t trust her, but because I didn’t trust them. If they even suspected she knew things she wasn’t supposed to know, I wouldn’t put it above them to at the very least have Electra wipe all recent memories from her brain. Something like that would be devastating to a woman who runs her bar from an accounting system that only makes sense to her and a list of merchants and favors she keeps in her head.

“I need to turn Henry against Rafe.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Bea asks.

I wave my hand down my scantily clad body. “With the gifts the Divine gave me…and my sparkling personality, of course.”

She laughs again. “Of course. It seemed like you were off to such a good start.” She takes a step closer. “He’s been good to you?”

“He’s been humbled.”

Bea purses her lips. “As I knew he would be. But really? You’re doing well?”

I don’t take the offer to share. It’s hard enough for me to share things with anyone, but it’s far too strange to talk to a former lover about my new husband.

She seems to sense this new boundary between us. “And what will you buy with this one last favor?”

“Freedom once and for all.” I take a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”

“How?”

I understand her skepticism. I’ve threatened to leave so many times before. I’ve ranted and raged and said I was fed up, but I always stayed. It was impossible to leave without a clear escape route.

“My parents have agreed to grant me a favor when I do this one last thing. Once the deed is done, I’ll be gone and they won’t have any dominion over me anymore.”

“So you’ll stay at the fort?” she asks.

I’m tempted to just tell her about the tunnel, but I’m so close to escaping. Bea is one of the most secretive people I know—yet, still, I can’t risk word of its existence getting out before I make my final escape.

“No. I’m going beyond the mountain.”

Bea stares at me for a beat. “And what of your husband?”

I scoff. “He’ll be glad to be rid of me and have the resources our marriage granted him.”

She purses her lips like she wants to say more. I understand her doubt, but the thing that has shifted this time is that I’ve left the city walls. Before leaving, it was unimaginable to think of life outside this fishbowl. Now, this boundary has been crossed and freedom feels within my grasp.

She rubs the back of her neck. “What about the Poison Vixen?”

The guilt is swift. I take my responsibility to the women of Lunameade seriously, but the whole reason I started that work was because I couldn’t help Aidia. There’s not a place in the city I could stash her that my parents couldn’t find her. They’ve already shown they have no problem marrying a daughter off again if it suits them. There’s no escaping them inside the city walls. If we stay here, sooner or later, we’ll get sucked back into their games.

“I can’t surrender the only chance I’ll ever have to leave to be a one-woman vigilante against an army of abusers,” I say. “I don’t want to let anyone down, but I thought about what you said about letting more women help. It’s going to take a while for me to make formal plans. I thought in the meantime we could brainstorm a way to develop our network and carry on the Vixen’s work.”

Bea looks around the room, anywhere but at me.

“You were the one who tried to get me to quit so many times,” I say. “I can’t believe you’re mad now that I’m finally doing it.”

Bea swallows, and her dark eyes are full of grief. “I’m not mad. You were so stuck for so long. I’m relieved to see you healing, Low.”

I’m speechless—so moved that the person who knows my struggles best recognizes this massive shift in me. I’m not sure I even recognized it in myself until she said it. A lump forms in my throat.

Neither of us seems to know what to do with this unexpected emotional revelation.

Bea tugs at her sleeves and clears her throat again. “In that case, we have work to do. I’m assuming you’re here about the attack in North Hold and the women.”

I nod. “Who’s missing?”

“Francesca is the only one in our network missing. But several other women from the district have been taken as well, and that’s a concern. Especially because our favorite revolutionary, Rochelli, is spreading rumors that they’re not victims of an attack. He says they’re a tithe to the Drained.”

I stare at her. “I don’t understand. What do you mean? How do you know?”

Bea beckons me toward the curtain that leads to the bar. She draws it aside and nods toward a bearded man at the bar. He’s spinning his glass in a bubble of spilled ale.

“I know because that half-drunk, soon-to-be full-drunk fellow at the bar can’t stop running his mouth about it,” Bea says. “He slipped up and mentioned Rochelli, so I started filling his glass with the good stuff to keep him talking. He seems to think that it’s something your family agreed to.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” Defending them is a reflex in public settings, but less so with Bea. “There are a lot of lines my parents will cross, but our own citizens aren’t one of them.”

What I can’t tell her is that was the entire reason I was drafted into this sham marriage. My father sacrificed the fort to protect the city. It makes no sense for him to change course now, especially when he knows the fort is back up and running.

“I realize how it sounds,” I say. “There are many things they would sacrifice, but all of those sacrifices have been for the sake of protecting the people inside these city walls.”

Bea holds up her hands in surrender. “I know there are things you can’t tell me, but the great thing about being your friend is that I don’t have to buy into your family’s bullshit.”

I sigh in frustration. “It has to be Rafe. This is the perfect kind of rumor to start a frenzy. There’s no way to prove it, but also no way to disprove it, so it will just spread and spread and turn the tide of power in the city his way.”

Aidia’s face is still so fresh in my mind, and as much as I would like to tell my parents where they can shove their favors, as much as it’s their fault she’s in that situation to begin with, I only have bad options at the moment, and theirs is the only one that offers me what Aidia needs.

Bea leans back against the wall and tugs on the rolled sleeves of her button-down shirt. “Maybe it’s less that he’s effectively turning the tide toward him, and just that people are tired of your family’s manipulation. Just like you are.”

I glare at her. “You do realize Rafe is the other option, right? He was out there today like a king holding court.”

Bea wrinkles her nose. “That ghoul hasn’t shut up in weeks. He just feeds on the fear and misery. There’s no tragedy he can’t turn into a political opportunity. I’m sorry you had to listen to it.”

I shrug a shoulder. “You know more than anyone how much I’d love to stick it to my parents, but I need just one viable candidate who actually has the best interest of the city at heart. Whatever is going on with these missing women is scary. I—” I hesitate to tell her the full truth, but she deserves to know. How else will we do what we set out to and keep the women of Lunameade safe?

As I tell her about the Breeders and the evolution of the Drained, her eyes get progressively wider. When I finish, she looks like she’s going to be sick.

“Well, you know what you have to do,” she says. “You have to take that man at the bar upstairs and find out what he knows.”

“I don’t have my necklace.” I rarely take it off, but I didn’t want to detract from the scandalous neckline of this dress. “Plus, I never do work here. That’s one of our rules.”

Bea crosses her arms. “Are you not forever bending rules when it serves you?”

“Last time I bent the rules, I kissed my husband.”

She grins. “And look how well that turned out.”

I cock my head and glare at her.

“Hear me out,” Bea chides. “You’ve hit so many other bars and boarding houses that at some point it will become suspicious if it doesn’t happen here at least once. Plus, you don’t have to kill him. You can just pump him for information.”

I groan and smooth my hair. “Fine. Ruin my night off.” I nod to the board of hooks that hold keys to the rooms upstairs. “Give me number three.”

Bea tosses me the key and holds out my coat.

“I won’t be needing that,” I say with a grin as I slip through the curtain and into the bar.

I feel the man’s eyes on me as soon as I step into the light. Normally, I would try to be charming and flirtatious and wait until he suggests going upstairs, but my time is limited. Henry is probably back at Carrenwell House already. If I keep him waiting too long, he’ll come looking for me. I’m going to need to be more direct.

I step up beside the man. His blond hair is tied in a bun at the nape of his neck and his pale blue eyes hold a hazy, drunken sheen.

I lean in close. “I heard you’re one of them. That you work with—” I glance around the noisy bar and lower my voice. “Rochelli.”

He smirks, leans back, and holds a finger up to his smiling lips to indicate a need to be quieter. “I’m Shane. And what’s your name?”

“Gwen,” I say, leaning forward so my dress gaps. “I have to say. I was particularly disturbed by the part about the tithe. As a young woman, one can never be too careful when walking alone at night.”

His eyes slide down my body, pausing on my chest for a long moment before sliding lower. “You need to be very careful. These new, evolved Drained ones would love you. They say the beasts aren’t content with just blood anymore. They want flesh, too. The Carrenwells are all too happy to stave them off with women like yourself. A couple of working women is a small price to pay for them.”

I run my fingers down the embroidery on his button-down. “I have a room upstairs. I thought maybe we could discuss the details. Privately. For safety, of course.”