And it was decadent.
And gods, she wanted it forever.
And when they met at the highest point of it all, when he slowly dragged himself away in a pain both agonizing and sweet, and pushed himself until he was all she could feel, they lost together, and came down from it all.
Meanwhile, the sun winked at them and drifted out of sight.
* * *
“Shit, how much dust did you take?” joked Opie, smacking Tiana’s back hard enough to make her wince. “And what the fuck is up with the way you’re walking; did you stick your thumb up your ass rooting for gold?”
“You’re appalling,” Asha noted blithely. The tall woman straddled the side of her bench, a booted foot on either side, a mug of ale at her lips.
Opie, who was lounging on the table, snorted. The ash on the end of his cigarette crumbled and fell on his face like burning snow. He lurched up and hissed, swatting at his nose.
“Ha!” crowed Asha, slamming the now empty mug down. “Idiot.”
“Lets just say; the kitten got licked,” Tiana said smugly, arms crossed.
“The sweet cream of life,” professed Opie to the near empty room; the assortment of red nosed alcoholics and sweet faced youth passed out under tables and hassling the remaining servers.
No one paid him much mind. Which didn’t bother him, as he swung back grinning. Like magic, a new cigarette rolled between his teeth.
“Which stray did you pick up, boss? One of the Weirds?”
“I don’t bother with your sloppy seconds, comrade.” “Or the third…or fourth…”
“As if they’d give you the time of day.” “Oi! I’ve ruined them for nearly any man. Half of ‘em turned to the drink because of me.” “I believe people drink to forget, Opie. Not to pine.”
“Well, then I’ve been doing it wrong.” “You’ve certainly done nothing right,” muttered Asha.
“Watchit! Boss, do you hear the shit she’s saying to me? I collected four different gangs beneath the de Rossi banner. What’d you do, Asha? Move boxes?”
“No,” said Asha conversationally. “I fucked your mother.”
Opie honked. “As if me mum could fit you into her busy schedule. She’s got johns lining around the block; and do you know why?” “They all wanted to stop by and make sure they aren’t your father?”
“No, because they heard what a pretty face her dearest Opie has, and they wanted to see if she could make perfection a second time.” “I wasn’t aware Prince Roland was here,” said Asha.
Which, gained both Tiana and Opie’s attention. Tiana in alarm, a chill up her back at the idea of the two worlds crossing, now—and here. Opie’s chest puffed up with blatant indignation.
“Do not tell me you fancy the captain. Do not, Asha. I beg to any god I’ve ever prayed to when a woman has told me she’s pregnant and it’s mine, that you are lying to me right now.” Asha shrugged, lifting fingers to the passing waitress for another drink. “I can’t help it. He’s just so...clean.”
“So is Killian! And you don’t fancy him.” “I did once.”
“Why, thank you,” Tiana said, inclining her head to Asha. She wished her stomach would settle. She was being ridiculous. Paranoid even. She was...too close to it all. Gods, she was so close to it all. Deep into it.
A sigh rose up her throat and it was the hardest she’d ever suppressed. She wished she could thump her elbows upon the table, put her head in her hands, and contemplate the tangled web of messy things she was weaving for herself. And her head, of course, was pounding. It did feel as if she’d swallowed an entire bag of dust and then washed it down with Yai Root. She hadn’t exactly provided time to nap in between sessions with Roland and well, sleep had been the furthest thing from her mind at the time.
She was just glad he’d had to leave before the clock struck twelve, kissing her before he vanished out her door. She’d left ten minutes after him.
It hit her suddenly that she never even thought to ask him why he had to leave.
“But I was visiting a friend up at the castle—” Asha began. Opie whistled. “High friends in high places. How much dust did you sell? Go on, tell us. Brag a bit.” Asha ignored him and accepted her drink of the waitress. “Thanks, beautiful,” she said, earning a blush and a smile. Turning to Opie, “I happened to get a glimpse of the spare himself and well, I may need to aim higher than the shit in the barrel and you sloppy drunks.”
“Killian is insulted,” cried Opie, slamming a fist on the table. “I demand justice, Asha!” Opie, who was apparently much drunker than Tiana had thought, grabbed her chin and yanked her close to Asha’s face. “Just look at how pretty he is!”
Asha shot a wary look at Opie. “I’d run.”
“Now why—” he froze, feeling the butt of Tiana’s barrel in his gut.
“You have the count of one to let go, Opie.” “Oh, come on, Kill—”
“One.”
He dropped to the ground in a heartbeat, yowling.
“Boom,” chuckled Asha, picking up her newly refreshed ale.
“So rude,” muttered Opie, gathering his cigarette off the dirt floor of the tavern. Tiana meanwhile stood from her seat, resettling her gun and thumbing bills to settle her tab.
“You’re an idiot, Opie,” said Tiana, throwing the bills on the table. Asha saluted her. “And yes, it’s charming and fun and once in a while you’ll say something and I’ll actually believe you. However…if you ever touch me again,” she looked him dead in the eye. “I’ll fuck your mother, too.” She left the tavern hearing a howl of laughter and Opie crying, “I’ve been shot!”
Chapter 11
Prowling down the streets, Tiana rubbed her face, careful not to do too much damage to the makeup clinging to her skin. She felt absolutely foul. It was a humid night and she could feel every dirty, sticky pore in her damn face.
All she could think about was Roland and wonder once again why he’d left so quickly, and where he’d gone. Because she would’ve liked for him to stay, she realized.
She would’ve loved to have spent the night pressed up against him, bound in their scent, surrendering to a delicious slumber and waking to the rising sun shining in their faces.
She could imagine the slow smile, the forest of green through his lashes, the trailing of a callused finger down the slope of her cheek, tracing her lips. She’d be tempted, of course, to sneak a taste, and her tongue, darting out, might taste the salt of his skin and hear the hiss from between his teeth.
It was impossible for it to work; she knew that. It wasn’t even him, or who he was, but what she was, what she knew he wanted. He wanted all of her, every part, and the worst thing was, he already thought it was all there. She just knew it. Just the way he looked at her said everything. Gods! The poor man didn’t even know she’d been the one to poison him!
There had never felt like such a divide before between her and Killian. In some ways, she cursed that she’d ever taken her brother’s mantle and his face upon her shoulders. She wished, when he turned his back on her, she’d turned hers on him.
But that wasn’t his way. Nor was it hers.
His way was his head on her knee, sleeping with a thumb in his mouth, while she brushed through his curls and held together their world.
It wasn’t Killian who was to blame. She knew that. She’d put herself into this corner. She’d backed herself in tight, trying to navigate through bladed strings in tangles around her. Each breath was a shiver, each movement was a dance.
And she was coming to the end of the night…to the end of her rope. She was tired in ways that resting her head on a pillow would not fix.
She could go to her father. Tell him of her lies. He’d listen, he’d nod, then his face would grow darker the further he withdrew to think. She’d apologize and he’d say there was nothing to be forgiven. She wouldn’t ask to stay, and he wouldn’t offer. She’d say goodbye and they would both know this time, she’d truly be gone.
Back up to the
palace she’d walk, dragging off layers of her disguise, washing her face in a chilled stream and digging her bag of clothing out from the little cache she kept them in. She would gather every piece of the disguise crafted for posing as Killian, and she’d pitch it into the river and off it would go. Eventually, it’d be as far away as her brother was.
And she’d be done.
Tiana stopped and looked up at the moon, alone in the sky save the faint twinkle of stars. In the moon she saw Asha and Opie waiting for her each night to show up, to stroll through the doors. She saw her father sitting alone in his office, staring at the ghost memories of the children he loved and missed but could never see again.
And Tiana saw herself breaking in two because she was living as both twins. To choose one of their lives would be to leave an enormous part of her behind. It would be a half-life. And Tiana, tightening her hand into a fist, couldn’t stand the idea of leaving things halfway done.
The world wouldn’t allow it.
Ripping around, she pointed her gun down the narrow street. The m-mod was glowing a furious crimson, bathing her face.
“Get out of the shadows before I blast you out.”
“Killing me last time didn’t prove to be so easy.”
And there he was. Roland with a sword. Roland with his own pistol at his hip. Roland in a cloak and leather and boots made for breaking; hair braided from his brow so he could clearly look at her now.
Look, and not see.
Tiana made the decision to lower her pistol. For one, because she wouldn’t use it, and, because without it, her face would be shadow within her hood.
Straightening, she saluted him and in a deep voice replied, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re speaking of, Captain. I’d never dream of killing you, sir highness. They’d string me up for that. There is no better way to spell treason then killing the king’s favorite little brother.”
“Did you talk this much before?”
“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before this happenstance, highness sir.” She bowed audaciously, one hand on her stomach, the other at her back.
Roland stopped a few feet away. He wasn’t holding either of his weapons and his stance was fairly relaxed.
“Let me remind you, then. You poisoned me and then tossed me out of a bloody window.”
“I do that at least twice a week, it’s hardly a stand-out encounter.” She smiled. “Not that you aren’t a special boy.”
“Are you patronizing me?”
“Oh, no. Me? Why, the sheer nerve! I hope no one tells my father. He’d be so disappointed.”
“I’m sure your father is plenty used to you disappointing him, Killian.”
Tiana’s eyebrow ticked. “Now, what could you possibly mean by that?”
“Since I was on bedrest, I had some time to dig up what I could about you. I must admit, couldn’t find much, you’re a ghost. No one sees you during the day and well, no one dares to talk about you at night.”
“Please, write my legend for me. It sounds spooky.”
“But there are some people who talk, and you were quite the little shit, weren’t you?”
Tiana chuckled, breath once more in her chest. Killian’s rough years as an adolescent, she could live with. She could talk about them as if his crimes were hers and anxiety wouldn’t claw up her throat. “I got thrown in your predecessor’s tank a time or two.”
“Or seventeen.”
Tiana shrugged. “I had to keep the number aligned with my age.”
“In one year.”
“Oops.”
“So what I don’t get is how the hell you pulled yourself into this. It’s an odd little pattern. You go from blowing your father’s money, and I’m talking in big numbers here—”
“Oh, how confusing.”
“—to filling his coffers until they threaten to explode.”
“I bet the royal treasury is feeling a bit puny beside it, eh?”
“I told my brother you’d be dangerous,” said Roland. “I told him he needed to deal with the gangs down in the Sludge. In our father’s rule, your kind was fine to stick in the bounds of this area, and my father cared too little for the poor to bother casting a glance in this direction.”
Tiana tutted. “Negligence, negligence, negligence. Shame.”
“But I could see it. Your father changed it. He wanted to expand, he has a grander vision, doesn’t he, Killian?”
“I don’t know. Here’s an idea; let’s go ask him.”
He was getting too close now, circling like a shark, eyes glowing. There was excitement there. Triumph. Hunger. And it twisted Tiana’s stomach. She’d now been on two sides of this man’s want. But now, this was the man she didn’t know.
This man was...power. A hunter, a predator with a single-minded focus, and all the while she hadn’t even known he’d been watching.
Maybe they didn’t know each other at all.
The idea of that hurt more than she cared to admit. So she pushed Tiana down deep, squashed her beneath a trap door, and Killian stood guard over top of it.
“A gangster wanting to be rich? That’s hardly a new desire. But a gangster wanting others to bow at his feet, to pledge themselves under his name?” He tilted his head and whispered, “That sounds like a king.”
Chapter 12
De Rossi sighed, thumbing a blade from his belt. In the grim glow of the darkened street, Roland could see glints of blue through the pieces of straight, oily hair hanging in his eyes. Had his eyes been blue before?
“Can’t we have a nice, civil conversation? Slinging accusations around won’t get us anywhere, princeling.”
“You tossed me out of a window. I say the odds are very unlikely.”
“You’re really caught up on that, aren’t you? I mean, you recovered quickly for the amount of Yai Root I doused you with. Must’ve had one heck of a healer. Hope you paid em well.” His grin was quick, taunting, as if he knew all about how Roland planned to pay back his healer. Which of course, was ridiculous, but the way de Rossi got under his skin… “And besides, how was I to know you were telling the truth about being a prince? The folk I hang out with aren’t exactly paragons of trust and truth.”
“Your lot don’t lie.”
“We don’t lie to each other. There’s a difference.”
“Well, then why is it they all think Ira’s man was blasted to smithereens?”
That gave de Rossi pause, Roland saw something flicker across the man’s thin face. Then understanding. “Just how many gangs have you infiltrated?”
Roland snorted. “It’ll soften the blow to know it isn’t yours.”
“The Red League ain’t snitches,” de Rossi said with a shrug, as if it were as simple as that. “And I’m not great when it comes to murder, and I’d much prefer not getting your glowing royal blood all over my pretty outfit. My expensive outfit. So I think we should call it a night, find some Fairy and some girls—or boys—and put this all behind us. What do you say, comrade?”
“Not likely. I don’t get in bed with Sludge.”
“Oh,” said de Rossi chuckled. “Don’t you?”
Roland grit his teeth, fighting against the roiling smearing his brain and pounding through his blood. The audacity of this prick. He’d left a good woman’s bed for this. Nik had let him know earlier in the day the files were finally coming in. The sources were finally good. They had enough information. And Roland, after kissing Tiana goodbye, had stowed away to learn of the shitstorm brewing while he lay unknowing and unwell, all because of this fucking prick.
“We were talking about your father.”
“I’d rather not.”
“The thing is, de Rossi, you said a word earlier. Do you remember what it was?”
“I say a lot of words.”
“You said treason. Now, don’t you think it’s treasonous to undermine your true king by getting his subjects to call a thug theirs?”
“While I have always thought the name d
e Rossi would look splendid beside a title of such magnitude, it was no one’s intention, your highness. Least of all, mine.”
“You’ve gotten too big for your britches, de Rossi.”
“Have I? Quite frankly, I thought they were feeling a little loose.”
“And the thing is, I’ve cleaned up Red League messes before.”
“Our messes?” the gangster asked innocently.
“Aye. The messes you leave the snitches in.”
“There are few rules in our world, and that rule is a god.”
“So how would they take it to know you let your captive live?”
“And why do you think they’d believe you?”
“Because I’ll also tell them about this. Hopefully you can read more than signs.”
Roland slid the piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it at de Rossi’s feet.
De Rossi picked it up, unfolded it in his gloved hands, and then laughed loudly as he read the contents. So the bastard could read.
“How the fuck did you get this?”
“Who knows.”
De Rossi choked. “Suck off your mother. Where did you get this?”
“It doesn’t matter, because come tomorrow, everyone in the Sludge will know what it is you did.”
“What the hell do you want this bad?”
Roland shrugged, the win settling beneath his skin like silk. “I want in on your operations. I want to see it all. I want to know where you’re going and who your father is seeing, and I want to know how much of a threat the operations of Don de Rossi are.”
“We aren’t a threat to you.”
“And what the hell makes you think I’ll take a gangster’s word on the safety of the kingdom?”
“You’re hardly easy to conceal, Princeling.” He tossed the paper back, which meant he assumed it was not the only copy—which it wasn’t—or he didn’t want the incriminating piece in his fine, thieving fingers.
“You don’t worry about that. Say I’m a cousin or something.” Roland smirked. “Be creative.”
Deception: Rogues of the Red League, Book 1 Page 9