Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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I slapped away a buzzing insect that had landed on my neck. The back of the mansion was much quieter now that the game of soccer had concluded and the servants had disbanded and gone back to their duties. The air chirruped with birds darting between the branches of trees, and a low droning hum came from insects flitting within the gloomy shadows of the lush shrubs and above the pebbled paths.
Thin shafts of pale sunlight poked through holes in the thick foliage and in between the graceful arches of the grand gazebo to slant across the wooden floorboards. Dark green stems clambered up the white posts and were entwined around the trellises and fretwork, serrated leaves and apricot blooms followed the sun's path across the sky. Above the smell of smoke that lingered on my suit, an evocative scent of roses wafted faintly on the crisp breeze and it reminded me of Tabitha: the scent of wild rose seemed distinctly her. The prickly stems and fragile blossoms were much like her tongue. Sweet but thorny.
I suddenly gritted my teeth around my cigar and dragged my whetstone across the adamere blade of my dagger, harder and faster—schlick schlick, schlick...
With force, I stamped down on the memory of Gratian and Irma. I'd caught them in the act of betrayal in another gazebo, one of worn gray stone, mottled and chipped with age.
Fuck Irma Szarvas.
The sole of my shoe anxiously rapped upon the wooden floor of the gazebo as I bided my time by sharpening one of my daggers, which had everyone else on edge too. They were clustered in small groups across from me, and I'd tuned them out while they filled the tedious hours of the day with mundane chatter and the passing of meals. Members of the upper ranks without jobs were so fucking dull. I might not enjoy my job keeping the crime syndicates in line all the time, but at least I had a purpose.
Rosa's puppy suddenly yapped with excitement, drawing my attention to it. The little Lhasa Apso sat obediently on a bench seat while Rosa snipped around his face with much more care than Tabitha had when she'd hacked away at Laurena's hair.
Snip, snip, snip...
Rosa finished clipping the long fur out of Fluffy's eyes. She pushed a wayward curl out of her eyes, leaning her upper body back and weaving from side to side to see Fluffy from all angles.
The Lyon brothers—Forrestor and Harding—yet again were present on the estate. The younger of the two, Harding, assisted Rosa and handed her a grooming comb to catch up any loose tufts that had stuck to Fluffy's long coat of fur. Rosa teased Fluffy's new fringe up and back into a quiff. "I could quite easily have been a hairdresser," she quietly mused.
A dog groomer for fucks's sake, Battagli.
But yes, Rosa did have a flair with her scissors. Fur was scattered on the bench and floorboards and I was sure once we left the gazebo a servant would come and tidy up after her. Perhaps Tabitha. My gaze sliced sideways to check if she was anywhere nearby and was disappointed to find she wasn't.
