Page 11 of A Steeping of Blood (Blood and Tea #2)

ARTHIE

Arthie had always known that her brother was resourceful, but she hadn’t anticipated that he would find Flick before she did, although she supposed it was a matter of who Chester had gotten to first, the little bugger.

Her chest rose as she steeled herself.

“He’s your brother,” Matteo said. “There’s love at the heart of his anger and pain, or he wouldn’t feel either.”

The care in his eyes unsettled her. A question bubbled to her lips: What do you want in return for your kindness? But something held her back. That same something sent a rush of warmth through her instead.

“All right?” Matteo asked.

Arthie nodded.

And in true, never-one-to-shy-away fashion, Jin opened the door, the look on his face telling her that he had known she was on the other side of it.

He was alive. Whole. She could still picture the smoke wisping from the bullet hole in his chest. A knot loosened in hers.

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen him open his eyes after the Ram had shot him and Arthie had turned him, but so much had happened that night that Arthie hadn’t realized how terribly she wanted to see him until now.

“Never thought I’d find you in a place this stinky,” she said before she could stop herself. She pinched her lips together.

This was new, having to consider her words before speaking to him. Jin was the one constant in her life; he’d been a part of her world longer than even her parents had been. How had they reached this point?

Because of me. That tiny inner voice had gotten a lot louder lately.

He gave her a mock laugh, more than one emotion playing behind his dark eyes. He looked her over, and she wondered if he was assessing her or searching for her fatal wound. “Back in a suit, I see.”

Her armor, each layer protecting her heart—even from herself. She’d been left bare a week ago, as exposed as the thin sari she’d wrapped around herself. No more. In the holster at her side, Calibore’s presence reassured her as Jin once did.

“As much as I’m not looking forward to being surrounded by so much fish, can we come in now?” Matteo asked beside her. “My arm grows tired.”

He was holding an umbrella over both his and Arthie’s heads, shielding them from the Ettenian sun. There wasn’t much to shield from, but shield he did.

“Come in, come in!” Chester said grandly, and Arthie had the sense he was pretending to be Matteo’s butler.

Arthie stepped inside, Matteo closing the umbrella and the crumbling wooden door behind them, gagging throughout.

“Why are you here?” Jin demanded, as if they were intruding upon his fishy kingdom. He looked straight at Arthie. She wasn’t sure if he was ignoring Matteo, or if he was angry enough with her not to have even noticed him.

Arthie swallowed. What was wrong with her?

She was usually quick with her responses, rarely letting anyone sway her.

She prided herself in being resilient, unwavering.

She was made out of stone, but wasn’t he the one who had fashioned it around her?

Who was she without the one she’d built herself up with?

“The same reason you are,” she finally replied. “For the ledger.”

“Arthie!”

Flick rounded the half wall and threw her arms around her.

Arthie stiffened, before some part of her relaxed.

Flick was an entirely different girl than when Arthie had first given her Matteo’s address back in Spindrift.

Her wide-eyed innocence was gone, as were her pastel gowns and unblemished skin.

In the dim light, Flick pulled away and met Arthie’s eyes with a shy smile. “I—I thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Arthie replied, as if it happened every day. In reality, she had been terrified. She’d long considered herself unafraid of death, but Matteo was right. She had much to do, and she couldn’t die just yet. “For a few seconds. Matteo brought me back.”

Arthie found it suddenly impossible to look at any of the others. She rapped her knuckles on the crate beside her. “Right. On to business, we—”

“‘Brought me back,’ eh? That’s one way to word it,” Matteo said, his gaze heavy on her. He might as well have been undressing her for the way he stared. Arthie felt her skin tingle in response.

Flick made a surprised yelp, no different than the high society ladies who tittered at the sight of an exposed ankle. Arthie met his eyes, waiting for that spike of irritation, that irked tick that should have risen in her blood. Instead, she was suddenly shy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin growled at him, and the kitten stopped her chomping and flattened her ears against her head.

That was when Arthie felt a spike, only it wasn’t irritation or anger, it was satisfaction.

Like she was a child who’d done something forbidden and her elder brother didn’t approve.

In answer, Matteo found himself a rickety chair and sat back like a pleased and pompous king. He propped his elbow on the arm of it, never once taking his eyes off Arthie.

Flick looked between him and Arthie and opened her mouth. Whatever she was about to say, Arthie decided she did not need to hear it.

“We didn’t reunite for small talk, did we?” Why was her voice more hoarse than it needed to be? “Can we redirect our attention to that ledger?”

And not what I might have done with Ettenia’s most eligible bachelor in a bedroom of his own house.

“Oh, Arthie,” Flick said with the edge of a smile. “I missed you too.”

Matteo laughed, and it sent a shiver up Arthie’s spine. She was losing it, she truly was. She crossed her arms, but Arthie had missed her. And the crew when they were together.

And Jin.

Who was now most certainly pretending not to pay attention.

He had every right to be angry at her—unless, of course, he was angrier after what Matteo said.

But could he understand that she’d kept so much of herself from him out of fear?

Out of a loathing for herself and what she’d done before she’d pulled him out of that fire?

“We were focusing on the ledger before you two interrupted,” Jin said.

And Arthie, try as she might, couldn’t fling a response back quickly enough. No, she felt as though she really had interrupted them. Matteo was watching her as though he knew what she was thinking. As though he had been there, a silent part of her years with Jin.

“Now we all can,” she finally said.

Jin rapped his umbrella on the dusty floor. “Well, long story short, the ledger is rubbish. The Ram’s already emptied at least one warehouse.”

“No—” Flick started.

Arthie snorted at his quick dismissal. “So you’ve decided it’s completely useless because of a single warehouse?”

“Maybe out of—”

“Oh, are you the only one who can make educated guesses based on the facts we pick up?” Jin snapped.

“I’ve been reading—”

“I came here because of your parents,” Arthie seethed.

“And I should fall at your feet, is that it?” Jin seethed back.

“ Enough, ” Matteo said over them both. “Poor Flick hasn’t been able to get a single word in. This won’t do.” He pointed from Jin to Arthie. “Can we agree that the Ram is our enemy?”

Arthie felt like a child being scolded, but she nodded. Jin did too.

“Right, and can we agree we need to find Jin’s parents, for you, Jin, of course, but also to strip the Ram of, essentially, her allies?”

Jin laughed without mirth. “Because there’s always a reason for what Arthie does.”

“Are we to assume you don’t care for the same?” Matteo asked, still in his chair.

Jin eyed him. “Let’s not forget that the Ram killed me, Andoni.” He gestured in Arthie’s direction. “And since when do you speak for her?”

“Since your spat began to affect everyone here. We’re going to need to work together, so get yourselves in order.”

Jin scoffed. “You were barely invested when we were working together.”

“A proper investment takes time,” Matteo said, and then his features darkened. “Let’s not forget she killed Penn, and I—”

He stopped when his voice cracked. Chester widened his eyes in the silence. Outside, the winter wind howled.

“You what?” Jin pushed.

“I have a past with her.”

“ With her?” Flick asked. Arthie almost snorted.

“Not like that! How long do you think I’ve lived for?” Matteo’s eyes widened at her expression. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Arthie would have allowed the secret, once, but Matteo was a part of their crew now. He was invested, as he said himself, and so were the others. They deserved to know about the night he walked through the trees.

About the Wolf of White Roaring.

“ You know though,” Flick said to Arthie. “Don’t you?”

Arthie bit the inside of her cheek. Life had been a lot simpler when she was in charge and no one asked questions, but their dynamic had changed that night. They had become less of a crew and more of a family. More attuned to emotions, more charged.

“She’s right,” Arthie said softly. “They deserve to know.”

One relationship had already been torn apart by a secret.

Matteo sighed, but it was more theatrical than truly upset. “Well, sit down, because this will blow you away.”

Flick didn’t need to be told twice.

Jin didn’t move.

Matteo waited with a pointed look, and after working his jaw and burning holes through Matteo with his glare, Jin finally sat down, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

“You may know me as Ettenia’s most prolific painter,” Matteo began, “but when I look in the mirror—”

“You can’t see yourself in the mirror,” Chester quipped, plopping on top of one of the crates with his chin on his hands.

“In the figurative sense. Don’t interrupt me.” Matteo drew in a careful breath, the first sign of real emotion.

Arthie held herself still against the sudden desire to step up to him and comfort him.

“I’m the Wolf of White Roaring.”

The kitten continued tearing at her fish in the deafening silence. Jin let out a croak. Flick matched it. Arthie didn’t know why she was relieved to see that Flick didn’t scamper away in sudden fear. As if it was her secret he’d just shared.