“I almost thought that the other guy wouldn’t surrender,” Tilda had admitted breathlessly as Konstantin held his hands triumphantly above his head.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked her, with my eyes still locked on Konstantin. “Everyone always surrenders to him. He’s unstoppable.”
When I was a kid, that idea had filled me with wonder and admiration. Now it only filled me with dread.
“Hey, that lady looks an awful lot like you,” Linus said, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked over to see my mom standing in the doorway to a classroom, ushering children out for a bathroom break.
“That’s because she’s my mom,” I said, and lowered my head, as if that would make it harder for her to spot her adult blond daughter standing in the middle of the elementary school hallway.
“Really? Let’s go say hi,” Linus suggested brightly.
“No, we’ve got a lot to see,” I said, and I turned and darted out of the school without waiting for him. I couldn’t wait any longer if I didn’t want to risk talking to her.
“Are you mad at your mom?” Linus asked, once he caught up with me outside of the school.
“What do you mean?” I asked, and continued our walk toward the north side of town.
“You just seemed to want to avoid her.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t like mixing business with family.”
“Why not?”
“She isn’t supportive of my job, for one thing,” I said, but that was only a half-truth.
“And what’s the other thing?” Linus pressed.
I glanced over at him, with his earnest eyes and genuine concern, and I decided to tell the truth. “Most Markis and Marksinna don’t exactly approve of her.”
This seemed to totally baffle him, the way it would most people who saw past Mom’s race to her kindness and strength and wit and beauty. But unfortunately, there were very few Kanin who could do that.
“Why not?” Linus asked in disbelief.
“Because she’s Skojare, and I’m half Skojare.” I stopped walking and turned to him, since the conversation felt like it required more attention.
He shrugged. “So?”
“So … Kanin tend to look down on anybody that isn’t Kanin, especially the royalty,” I explained.
“That’s dumb.” He wrinkled his nose.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “But it’s the way things are.”
“Why don’t you change things?” Linus asked me directly, and for a second I had no idea what to answer.
“I … I can’t,” I stumbled. “But you can. You’re part of an influential family. Someday you may even be King. But even if you aren’t, you have the power to lead by example.”
“You really think I can change things?” Linus asked with wide eyes.
“I do,” I told him with a smile. “Now come on. Let’s see the rest of town.”
“So when you say people don’t approve of you, what does that mean?” Linus asked, falling in step beside me. “Are they mean to you?”
I sighed. “I’d rather not get into it, if that’s okay.”
“All right,” he relented, but only for a second. “But you can tell me stuff. We’re friends now.”
“Thanks, and I appreciate the sentiment, but … we can’t be friends,” I told him gently.
“What are you talking about? We are friends,” Linus insisted, and this time I didn’t have the heart to argue with him.
SEVENTEEN
confrontations
The fire crackled in my wood-burning stove, and I slipped out of my jeans—muddy and wet from the walk around town with Linus. Wearing only my panties, I pulled on an oversized sweatshirt and went over to my bookshelf. After a long day, the only thing that sounded good to me was curling up in bed with a book.
I’d finally caved and texted Ember a few hours ago, but she hadn’t replied. So I needed a good distraction. Most of the books I owned were old and worn, but I tried to pick up a few new ones every time I went out on a mission. I’d hoped to restock my shelves while I was in Chicago, but that trip had been cut too short.
Since I didn’t have anything new, I decided to reread one of my favorites—a battered hardcover of The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. It was wedged stubbornly between several other books, and I’d just finally managed to pull it free when I heard the creak of my front door opening.
I whirled around, brandishing the book with the intention of bludgeoning an intruder with it, but it was only Ridley, his black jacket hanging open and his hands held palm-up toward me.
“Easy, Bryn. It’s just me.”
“Why are you sneaking up on me?” I demanded, refusing to lower my book.
“I’m not sneaking. I just step lightly.” He stayed in my doorway, letting a cold draft in around him. “Can I come in?”
I was acutely aware of the way I was dressed—no pants, with the hem of the sweatshirt hitting my midthigh, and the stretched-out neck left it hanging at an angle, revealing my left shoulder and bra strap, along with the jagged scar that ran below it. But I didn’t want to seem aware of this, tried to act as if it didn’t feel like a big deal to be standing half naked in my small apartment alone with Ridley.
So instead of rushing over to put on pants or hiding underneath a blanket, I shrugged and said, “I guess.”
“Thanks.” He came inside and closed the door behind him.
And then we stayed that way for a moment, neither of us saying anything. The only light in the loft came from the dim fire and my bedside lamp, casting most of the room in shadows. His eyes bounced around the room, never lingering on anything, and he licked his lips but didn’t speak.
“Why are you here?” I asked finally, since it appeared he might never say anything. “You never come to my apartment.”
“I’ve been here before,” he corrected me. He shoved a hand in the back pocket of his jeans and shifted his weight.
I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t usually come here. Why are you here now?”
“Do you wanna sit down?” He motioned to the couch to the side of me, but I didn’t move toward it.
“Why would I want to sit down? What’s going on?” My blood pressure had been steadily rising since Ridley had opened the door, and my whole body began to tense up. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing bad.” He exhaled deeply and brushed his dark curls back from his forehead. “I mean, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Just spit it out, Ridley.”
“Ember ran into Konstantin Black on her mission.”
For a moment I couldn’t breathe, and I barely managed to get out the word, “What?”
“There was a small altercation, and she was hurt, but—”
That was all I heard, and all I needed to hear, and then I was scrambling to get out of there. I tossed my book down on the couch and ran over to my dirty jeans in the hamper.
“Bryn.” Ridley walked over to me, but I ignored him.
“I need to get to her, Ridley,” I said, nearly shouting by then, in a quavering voice.
“No, listen to me, Bryn.” He put his hands on my arms, and I suppressed the urge to push him off and hit him. His grip felt solid and strangely comforting, so I looked up at him and tried to slow my ragged breaths.
“Ember is okay.” Ridley spoke slowly, his words clear and calm. “She was injured, but it’s nothing critical, and she managed to get out with the changeling. She’s on her way home, and she’ll be here tomorrow morning. You don’t need to go after her.”
I breathed deeply, letting his words sink in, and then I nodded. “She’s okay?”
“Yes, I talked to her on the phone, and she sounded good.” He smiled crookedly, trying to reassure me.
“What about Konstantin?”
Ridley didn’t answer immediately, but he didn’t look away, so I searched his eyes, looking for a glimmer of hope, but found none. His smile fell away, and I knew the answer.
“He got away,”
I surmised.
“The important thing is that both Ember and the changeling are safe,” Ridley reminded me.
“I know.”
I pulled away from him, and at first he tried to hang on, but then he let his hands fall to his sides. I ran a hand through my hair and sat back on the bed behind me. My legs felt weak, and my shoulders ached. The sudden surge of anxiety and adrenaline, followed by the news of Ember’s injury and Konstantin’s escape, left me feeling sore and out of sorts.
“I should’ve been there,” I said softly.
“No.” Ridley shook his head and came over to sit down next to me.
My legs dangled over the edge of the bed as I stared emptily at the wall in front of me, but Ridley sat so he was facing me. He rested one hand on the bed, supporting himself, and his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my thigh.
“Why did you send her and not me?” I turned to look at him, and he was so close, I could see my own reflection in his eyes.
“I knew she could handle it, and she did,” Ridley said.
“But you didn’t think I could.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then why didn’t you send me?” I asked thickly.
He swallowed, but his dark eyes never wavered from mine. “You know why.”
“I could’ve gone with. I could’ve helped her. If I had been there, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Konstantin wouldn’t have gotten away.”
“Or maybe things could’ve gone much worse,” Ridley countered. “You don’t know what would’ve happened, and everything turned out okay.”
“No, it didn’t. He got away. Again.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault! Because I should’ve been there, and not here doing nothing.” I looked away from him, staring down at my lap. “I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”
“Bryn.” He reached out, putting his hand gently on my face and making me look at him. “It’s not your fault. You did everything you were supposed to do. Konstantin Black isn’t your fault.”
“Then why does it feel like he is?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know.” He brushed his thumb along my cheek, and I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.
His other hand moved, so that his fingers were no longer brushing against my thigh, and he pressed it against the small of my back. I felt the bed shifting, and even though my eyes were closed, I knew he was leaning in toward me.
“You should go,” I whispered, too afraid to open my eyes and see his face hovering next to mine.
“You sure?” Ridley asked, but he lowered his hand, and I felt the weight on the bed change as he moved away from me. I finally dared to open my eyes, and he was still sitting next to me, looking at me with an expression filled with concern.
“If Ember’s coming back in the morning, I should get some sleep.”
“But are you even gonna get any sleep tonight?” Ridley asked me honestly.
I gave a weak laugh. “I don’t know.”
“I could stay, keep you company until you fell asleep.”
I didn’t need him. Or at least I didn’t want to need him. But I didn’t want to push him away. Not tonight.
“Okay.” I nodded, giving in to my feelings for him, at least in some small way.
“Good.” He smiled, then slipped off his jacket. “When I came in, it looked like you were grabbing a book.”
“Yeah, I was just gonna read before I went to bed.”
“Perfect.” He stood up. “You go ahead, crawl into bed and get comfy.”
“Okay?” I was skeptical, but I did as he told me, sliding under the thick covers and lying back in my bed.
“Here’s what I’ll do,” Ridley explained as he grabbed The Count of Monte Cristo from where I’d tossed it on the couch. “I’ll read, you relax and fall asleep. Sound like a plan?”
I smiled up at him as he walked back toward me. “Sure.”
He sat down on the bed beside me, over the covers with his legs stretched out next to mine, and he cracked open the book and began to read. Eventually his gentle baritone lulled me to sleep. I didn’t actually remember falling asleep, but when I awoke with the early morning light spilling in through the windows, my head was on his chest and his arm was around me.
EIGHTEEN
threats
“I just can’t believe she didn’t call me,” I muttered.
The Land Rover lurched to the side, and I jerked the wheel, correcting it just in time to keep us from slamming into one of the willow hybrids. Yesterday’s early thaw had left puddles and melting snow everywhere that turned into ice today, making the road out of Doldastam more treacherous than normal.
Not that that slowed me down. Ember had texted me thirty minutes ago, letting me know that her train was almost to the station. I still wasn’t sure how badly she’d been injured, and I didn’t know if driving would be difficult or painful for her.
I’d been at Tilda’s house—that had been my excuse to escape a rather awkward morning conversation with Ridley, saying that I’d promised to have breakfast with Tilda. I hadn’t, but Tilda was who I ran to when I needed to gather my thoughts and get my wits about me. It’d worked out, because then Ember had texted me, and within minutes Tilda and I were racing to meet her at the train station.
“I’m sure she had her reasons.” Tilda pressed her hands against the dashboard to keep from sliding all over as the Land Rover bounced down the road.
“She just lectured me about not calling her after my run-in with Konstantin, and then she turns around and does the same thing.”
“Maybe Ember was afraid that you would freak out.” Tilda let out a small groan when we hit a bump and she bounced into the air. “And I haven’t the faintest idea why,” she added drolly and shot me a look.
“I’m not freaking out,” I protested, but I slowed down a bit. “She still should’ve called me.”
“But she called Ridley, and she’s safe, and that’s what counts,” Tilda reminded me.
We’d gotten far enough from Doldastam that trees were no longer crowding the path, and the road had widened and smoothed some, so she relaxed back in her seat.
“On the subject of Ridley,” Tilda began, and I groaned inwardly. In my telling her about Ember’s injury over oatmeal this morning, I’d let it slip that Ridley had spent the night, then Ember had texted me and we’d been on our way.
I tried to evade the question. “There is no subject of Ridley.”
“But he did spend the night last night,” she said carefully, making sure her words had no trace of accusation.
“He did, but nothing happened. It wasn’t like that.”
“Okay,” Tilda relented, but I wasn’t completely sure if she believed me. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I believed me.
We lapsed into silence after that, so I turned up the music. Thanks to my earlier speeding, we managed to arrive at the station just as the train was pulling in. We’d made the trek in record time.
Ember hobbled off the platform, and her coat hung on her at a haphazard angle thanks to the sling around her arm, which appeared to be made from a couple different fashion scarves. A graze on her left cheek was red and puffy, but otherwise she didn’t look that much worse for wear.
She stopped on the steps when she saw Tilda and me rushing toward her. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to give you a lift home and to make sure you’re all right,” I told her. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” Ember smiled at us, then turned and gestured to a mousy girl standing just behind her, holding a massive Louis Vuitton suitcase. “This is Charlotte. She’s my charge.”
“Here, let me help you with that.” Tilda ran up the steps to take the bag from Charlotte before it tipped her over.
“Thank you,” Charlotte mumbled, but she seemed reluctant to let the bag go. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and her frizzy brown hair stuck out from underneath her kn
it cap.
“These are my friends Tilda and Bryn,” Ember explained to her. “You can trust them. They’re good guys.”
“I’m sure you’ve both had a long couple of days. Why don’t we get going?” I suggested.
I gingerly took Ember’s good arm and led her down the steps. Even with salt and gravel on the ground, the ice still made it slick in a few places, and it would be awful for Ember to take a tumble and hurt herself worse.
“What about my Land Rover?” Ember asked as we walked past the one she’d driven in to where I’d parked mine rather crookedly in my haste.
“We’ll get it another day. Come on,” I said. “Let’s just get home.”
On the ride back to Doldastam, it was hard not to ask Ember a million questions about her fight with Konstantin, but I didn’t want to freak out Charlotte any more than she already appeared to be. Tilda sat with her in the backseat, speaking in soft comforting tones about the landscape and her family and how wonderful everything would be for her after she arrived.
Since Ember was injured, Tilda offered to take Charlotte to her parents and help her get settled in. Ember could return to her usual tracker duties once she was patched up, but for now, Tilda would work just fine.
“So what happened?” I asked Ember the instant Tilda and Charlotte had gotten out of the SUV.
“I was staking out Charlotte, like I’m supposed to, and then I had this sense of being watched,” Ember said, recalling a scene that sounded familiar.
“I wasn’t sure if it was just paranoia, but I decided that I’d better do something, just to be on the safe side,” she went on, as I drove through town toward Ember’s house. “I was on my way to Charlotte’s house, trying to figure out what I’d say to her to get her to leave with me, but I was still scoping everything out, watching every car that went by and scanning for any signs of trouble.
“Then out of nowhere—and I mean like nowhere—Bent Stum jumped me.”
“He jumped you?” I looked over at her, slumped down in the front seat, her eyes closed and her mouth turned down into an annoyed scowl.
“Yeah. That Bent is strong, but he’s pretty dumb. He snapped my arm”—Ember grimaced and touched her broken arm gently—“but I managed to slide out of his grasp. He chased after me, but I managed to lose him when I cut through a backyard and down an alley.”
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