Not five seconds go by, and the door swings open. I look down, startled and embarrassed to be caught gawking. The man on the other side wears a blank expression, as if he’s oblivious to my poor manners. But when his eyes land on Avery, his face breaks into a wide smile. “Young Captain Greybrow!”
“Is Beatrice in? Or is she flitting in the streets, ordering people about?”
“Lady Hawthorne is in, yes.” the man says, grinning. “Come in. I’ll tell her you’re here. Are you hungry? Never mind; you’re always hungry. I’ll have the kitchen prepare you something.”
We’re led inside, and the man disappears. As I stare at the sparkling chandelier, I decide that if you want to be taken seriously by your fellow nobles, you must have crystals hanging from your ceiling.
“Lucia—”
I rip my eyes from the chandelier and stare forward with my nose slightly raised in the air, pretending to be a lady. Deadpan, I say, “Stop gawking. I know.”
“Actually, I was going to ask if you would like refreshment to ward away the chill of the evening.” Avery motions to a room off the main entry. There, on the desk, sits a bottle of something amber-colored.
“I’ll pass. I’ve never cared for it.”
For once, I’ve actually shocked the captain. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he starts to laugh. “Don’t let the kitchen hobgoblins hear that. They’ll put grit in your soup.”
I watch him, wait for him to show signs that he’s teasing. “Hobgoblins don’t exist.”
“Of course they do. Allie and Pritchet have lived quite happily in these very kitchens for near on to” —he stops to think— “forty years I believe.”
I set my hands on my hips, ready to demand he tell me the truth. Before I can, a lovely woman in a house gown sweeps into the entry. I blink at her, unsure how to react. Her golden hair is piled on her head in a haphazard fashion.
“Avery!” she declares moments before she pulls him into a tight embrace.
He hugs her back, lifting her off the floor. She squeals, laughing like a young girl.
Thoroughly uncomfortable, I hang back. Once Avery releases her, the woman finally notices me. She narrows her eyes slightly, looking me over. She doesn’t look as friendly as she did a moment ago.
“Who’s your companion, Captain?”
Avery rolls his eyes at the title and takes a step closer to me. “Lucia, this is my cousin, Beatrice. Beatrice, Lucia.
Beatrice nods a cool greeting. “Welcome to my home, Lucia.”
I have no idea who this woman is, and she obviously has no idea who I am, but I get the distinct impression that I’m not entirely welcome.
“Thank you,” I say, not bothering with flowery pleasantries. I stand a margin straighter. If this powder puff thinks she can intimidate me she has another thing coming. I’ve just about had it with pretty noble girls putting on airs.
“Interesting tidbit of information,” Avery says, cutting our introduction short. “We’re running from a passel of amateur bounty hunters.”
The woman rolls her eyes. “It’s always something. Have you eaten?”
Avery shakes his head. “I don’t suppose you have a couple rooms you could spare for the night?”
“Anything for you.” She slips her arm through his and leads him through the room, barely remembering to wave at me to follow.
From over his shoulder, Avery grins.
I follow because I don’t have any other option.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Check the Locks
Though I was eager for food when the aromas drifted from the covered platters the servants brought in, my stomach protests after only a few bites. I wonder how long it will take for my appetite to return. I hope it’s sooner than later.
Careful not to slosh what’s left of the soup, I nudge the bowl away from me.
Avery leans across the table and quietly teases, “Did the kitchen hobgoblins hear you? Is there grit in your soup?”
I shake my head. “It’s very good. I’m just not that hungry.”
“You’ll feel better after you get a good night’s sleep.”
Listless, I nod. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep either. My mind is a jumbled mess, bouncing between the bounty hunters, Sebastian, and my anger for Avery.
Our hostess ran off to attend something pressing, though she looked like she loathed to do so. It’s just the two of us at the massive dining table. You could seat forty people here, easy. Even when he’s quiet, Avery’s voice seems to echo through the empty room. Servants filter in and out, removing things, adding things, topping off my drink whenever I take as much as a sip. I want to tell them to find someone else to fawn over, but they seem so eager to help, I don’t have the heart.
“Your cousin doesn’t seem to like me,” I say when the room is momentarily empty.
“Beatrice is a touch protective.” He gives me a lazy one-shouldered shrug.
“I would think you are quite adept at looking after yourself.”
“She worries over some of my business choices and the acquaintances I’ve made through them. She’s probably pegged you for a pirate queen, on a mission to corrupt a sweet, innocent merchant captain such as myself.”
Unable to help myself, I snort. I take a crusty roll from the platter between us just so I’ll have something to do with my hands.
He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “It might be the gown that’s given her the wrong idea about you.”
I glance down and frown. Adeline’s dress has certainly seen better days. I tore away the tattered hem when I tripped over it earlier. My sleeve hangs askew, held in place by only a few bare threads. What’s left of the fabric is filthy. Even the bowyer in Arbormath looked at me as if I were a street rat in a stolen dress, but it didn’t hinder him from taking Avery’s money.
There hasn’t been time to change. We’ve done nothing but run since last night. I cover a yawn with my hand, and my eyes water. Maybe I will be able to sleep.
“Shall I show you to your room?” Avery asks with a wicked glint in his eye. “Or do you think we should bunk together? Safety in numbers and all that.”
A servant comes in at just the right time, and I turn to him. “Do you know if Lady Hawthorne had a room prepared for me?”
“She did.”
“Will you take me to it?”
Having obviously heard the tail of our conversation, the man tries to hide his smile. “Of course.”
Without so much as a nod goodbye, I give Flink’s lead a tug and leave the captain in the dining hall, alone. We wind through the halls, and I begin to wonder if Avery’s cousin stuck me in a seldom used tower. I imagine a dilapidated structure, swaying in the wind, rain blowing in through poorly patched holes in the roof. A family of pigeons will have taken residence in the rafters and—
“Will this be to your liking?” the man asks after he opens the door to our left.
The room is small and perfect, finer than any inn I’ve ever visited. It’s almost as luxurious as the guest cabin in the Greybrow Serpent. Apparently, though I know Beatrice would like to snub me, her genteel upbringing forbids her from giving me the worst room in the manor—if the manor has a less than lovely room. Which I somewhat doubt. The lady of the house doesn’t seem like the type to allow it.
“It’s perfect.”
“Your things have been brought up, and a bed has been made for your…” He eyes Flink. “Munchkin?”
I smile and don’t bother to correct him. No one would believe he’s a lesser dragon anyway. They’re supposed to be extinct. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I eye the copper tub behind the partition, longing for a bath, but it seems presumptuous to ask for one to be brought up. I shake my head, and he closes the door behind him. Paranoid, I check to ensure the windows are locked, and then I close the lacy drapes over the opaque glass, just to be safe.
Finally, I strip out of the tattered gown and toss it on a nearby cha
ir. I’ll ask someone to take it away in the morning. I rummage through my trunk, browsing the things Adeline’s made for me or insisted I buy. Since I’m not sleeping in my parent’s barn, I choose a long, silken nightgown.
Just when I’m about to collapse on the bed, a knock sounds at the door—but not the one at the front of the room.
I frown at a tapestry hanging next to the bed and brush it aside. Kneeling, I retrieve my dagger from where it fell on the floor and set my hand on the knob.
“Lucia?” a voice calls through the wood.
Rolling my eyes, I let the dagger fall to my side, flip the lock, and pull the door open. “Why is there a door between our rooms?”
“It seemed prudent to keep an eye on you when half of Kalae is after your pretty head.”
“Duke Edelmyer said he’d prefer me brought in alive,” I remind him.
“Prefer. Not require.”
I start to close my door, but he stops it with his boot. “If you need anything…”
I lock eyes with the captain, my anger churning in my stomach. How dare he play the part of the chivalrous champion. Never breaking eye contact, I set my palm on Avery’s chest and push him back. Slowly, I close the door between us.
With a shaking hand, I flick the lock.
***
Though I’m exhausted, I toss and turn for what seems like hours before I fall asleep. When I wake, it’s still dark outside. The candle by my nightstand has all but burned out, and now it’s a pool of melted wax. The tiny flame flickers, threatening to go out soon. I lie still, wondering what woke me. I roll over, trying to get comfortable so I can go back to sleep. The curtains flutter in a light, cool breeze. I pull the coverlet closer and snuggle into the soft pillows.
My mind is just becoming soft and fuzzy when a thought drifts to me, washing over me like freezing creek water.
The window was closed when I went to bed.
Instantly awake, I freeze, listening for movement. My bow is across the room, but my dagger is under my pillow. I slide my hand between the downy layers of bedding, relaxing just marginally as my fingers close over the short metal hilt.
Flink snores at the foot of the bed, undisturbed by whoever entered the room. But maybe there’s no one at all. Perhaps a well-meaning maid tiptoed in and found the room to be stuffy. It’s only natural she’d open the window.
I wait for several minutes, listening for movement. I have two options. I can lie here, wondering if someone is lurking in the shadows, waiting to grab me. Or I can jump up and hope to catch the person by surprise. I’ll probably end up attacking the drapes, and then Flink and I will have a good laugh. Well, I’ll laugh. Flink will look at me like I’ve lost my fool mind.
Still, that’s better than waiting.
After I take a moment to calm my nerves, I toss back the covers and leap out of bed. With my dagger raised, I circle, looking for dark shadows in the candlelit room. Nothing moves. Flink, who’s settled on a sapphire color for the evening, doesn’t even flinch; he’s still sound asleep. Carefully, feeling a bit like a fool, I cross the room and toss back one drape and then the next, finding nothing lurking behind them. I go through every nook and cranny. Nothing.
Breathing a bit easier, I close the window and double check the lock. Still, I can’t shake the feeling something is in the room. I sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the hilt of my dagger in my hands, blade raised and ready. My back’s pressed against the headboard so nothing can sneak up behind me. The candle stutters, and I gulp. Soon it will snuff itself out.
For a moment, I debate knocking on the door to the adjoining room, rousing Avery. But I don’t want his help—can take care of myself. My better sense rails against my stubborn will, but I squelch it.
Again, the flame threatens to go out, the wax almost spent. My eyes are heavy, and my heart rate has nearly returned to normal. I yawn and stretch my neck. Just as I’m closing my eyes for a brief moment, something moves at the foot of the bed. Instantly awake, I stare at the spot, my pulse picking up its pace again.
There’s nothing there.
But, again, something shifts like visible wind. I hold out my dagger. “Stay where you are.”
A soft chuckle sounds from in front of me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. What is it? How do I fight something I cannot see?
I watch the ripple of movement pass through the room, steadily coming to my right. I gulp back the terror rising in my throat.
Is it a wraith? What would that sort creature want with me?
Something brushes against my leg, and I scream as I lunge forward, stabbing at the air. To my horror and surprise, I catch something very real, and my dagger comes back slicked with dark red blood.
“Avery!” I scream, knowing without a doubt I don’t want to face this attacker alone.
The creature lets out a string of obscenities, and then he catches me by the hair, yanking me toward him.
“AVERY!”
There’s a crash on the other side of the door that separates my room from the captain’s, and then it’s Avery’s muffled yells that fill the air. Curse it all—I locked the wretched door.
The struggle finally wakes my worthless dragon, and he leaps up, head held low, teeth bared, tail rigid behind him. I fight my assailant, swinging my dagger and catching him wherever I can. I don’t think; I just fight.
Flink roars out a flame of blue sparks, and suddenly the mirage slips. A very real, flesh and blood man materializes. He howls in pain, and his grip loosens on my hair enough that I’m able to twist out of his grasp.
I dart for the door and throw it open. Avery’s name is already on my lips, but he’s there, on the other side, about to kick the barrier down. I fall into his arms, but it’s his sword I’m looking for. I snatch it from his hand before he realizes what I’m after.
“Lucia!” he yells, but I’m already whirling around.
Now I’m ready to face my attacker. Flink’s got him cornered, and the very average, brown-haired, medium-aged man screams in pain as the blue sparking flame catches his trousers on fire. Blood oozes from a gash on his arm, right where I managed to catch him.
Blinded by my indignant rage, I charge forward, sword in one hand, dagger in the other. Before I can reach him, the coward locks eyes with me and throws himself out the window. The shattering glass echoes through the room, and my frustrated scream joins it. I race forward, rushing to see if there’s a chance he escaped. It’s a sheer drop, but with the right spell, he may have softened his fall. He’s apparently an adept magic user.
Cursing the man, mad as all oblivion, I turn back to Avery. Breathing hard, I let the sword drop. “He got away.”
Avery lets out a long breath and leans against a bedpost. “So I noticed.”
“I locked the door,” I admit, though I don’t know why I bother.
“I noticed that too.”
I rub my scalp, wondering if the man left any hair. It all seems to be there, but it hurts. That’s precisely why I never leave my hair down.
“Are you all right?” Avery asks, finally coming toward me. When he’s close enough, he pries both weapons from my hands and tosses them on the bed. He catches me by the shoulders and examines me.
At some point, the bounty hunter must have caught me in the face because my cheek is tender. I wince as I rub it and take stock of my other slight injuries. “Nothing more than a few bruises.”
Without giving me time to protest, he tugs me against his chest, holding me protectively. I freeze against him, but my nerves are raw, and I find myself hugging him back. My muscles begin to tremble as my body relaxes. His arms are like iron around me, holding me safe and secure.
“I’m truly sick of people coming after me,” I murmur against his chest, which I just now realize is bare. And very…pleasant.
I clench my eyes shut, silently chastising myself. It’s the adrenaline talking, that’s all.
Just when I’ve composed myself enough I could step away, the candle fl
ame flickers several times. Then it goes out.
CHAPTER NINE
Grand Idea
Darkness envelops us, heightening other senses now that my sight is hindered. Avery’s skin is hot against my cheek, his muscles defined. My hands are clasped together, resting against the small of his back. He lets out a slow, controlled breath.
He shifts subtly, softening his grip on me ever so slightly. Something is off, something I can’t quite place. Something I probably shouldn’t stand around pondering. Still, I can’t command my feet to move.
And then it hits me. Avery is nervous.
The all-powerful, cocky, smug-as-can-be captain is off-kilter.
I will that familiar anger to rise in me, make me push the traitorous pirate away. But like a panther in the sun, it’s chosen to sleep for the moment, content to stretch a bit and roll over.
“Why won’t you apologize for what you did?” I whisper, careful to keep my face to the side so my lips don’t brush his skin.
There’s something safe about the dark, even with the shattered glass at our feet and the cold, wet breeze whipping around us.
He hesitates for so long; I’m not sure he’ll answer. I’m not even sure he heard the question. But then he shifts and lowers his head so his jaw brushes my temple. Softly, gently, he says, “Because I’m not sorry.”
I look up sharply. My eyes have adjusted enough I can meet his shadowy gaze in the dark. “How can you say that?”
Avery weighs his words before he says them. “Because if I hadn’t taken the orchids, you would have traveled back to Kalae and sold them—probably for less than you hoped, but it would have been enough to give you a foothold with the nobility. Sebastian would have finally been able to accept you—though for the money you gained and not for who you are—and he would have been celebrating an engagement to you right now instead of a fake one with Adeline.”
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 7