Page 102 of Leather & Lark

I smile, then recite the words to the hymn I always sing to my offerings in their final breaths. My parting gift, one to usher their souls to judgment. “Abide with me—”

“I’d rather not.”

“—fast falls the eventide—”

“It would fall a bit slower if you hadn’t drugged me,” Ethel says, her speech slurred.

“The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, help of the helpless, O abide with me.”

I slowly pull the bloodied handkerchief from Ethel’s clenched fist. It’s like a magic trick. It will be the only material evidence of our encounter that I will take from this room. A reminder that magic is an illusion. Death, an illusion. Life, a fleeting moment of time in God’s will.

My eyes lock with the old woman’s. Her rasping exhalations are desperate, but she shows no fear. Only defiance.

“Touch my Lark and he’ll kill you,” she whispers.

I smile as I fold my handkerchief and slip it into my pocket.

“I’m sure hoping he’ll try.”

And then I watch until the last breath leaves her lips like a final, unanswered prayer.

LAST DEFENSE

Lark

“I’m happy for you,” Rose says. My eyes lift from the two plates of pastry crumbs that sit between us and Rose’s grin widens beneath my scrutinous gaze. “I can tell things are different.”

“What do you mean?”

“With Lachlan. You just seem different from a couple of months ago. You looked like you wanted to murder him at Sloane’s wedding. And look at you now.” Rose’s arms spread wide and she nearly gut-punches a barista who strides past our table. “You were murdery before and now you’re all sexed-up and glowing.”

I cough around a sip of coffee. “Um … yeah. Thanks.”

“Is it good?”

“Is what good?”

“The sex. Duh.”

My cheeks heat as a memory from last night flashes through my mind: Lachlan’s face buried between my legs, my fist gripped tight in his hair as I pushed his sinful mouth against my pussy. It’s been just two weeks since our lives and desires finally aligned, and noweach day we’re stitched closer together. Every night he fucks me until I’m ready to collapse, exhausted but sated. Every morning I wake up less able to imagine the days before Lachlan’s presence in my life and my bed. Sometimes his touch is all I can think about. His hands on my flesh. His kiss on my neck. His cock buried deep—

“That good that you can’t sit still, huh?” Rose asks as I shift on my seat. She grins as my blush grows hotter. “I’m happy for you, Lark. You deserve it.”

Though I give her my thanks, there’s an edge of sadness to my gratitude. I know I can’t say the same to Rose. And with the way we both look down at the table, she knows it too.

“How am I going to keep track of you?” I ask as Rose sips the last of her coffee and sets the empty mug down as she leans back to regard me with a melancholy smile.

“I do have a phone. Silveria Circus might have a nostalgic vibe, but it also has modern technology.”

“I know, but you’ll be all over the place. It’s going to be a little harder to meet up. But I’ll come see you as much as I can, whenever you’re nearby.”

“I’d love that. You and Sloane.” Rose shakes her head and swallows, her smile faltering. “You’re my girls. My bally broads.”

“I still have no idea what that means, but I kinda like it.” I smile and take a sip of my coffee. “How long before you meet up with Silveria?”

Rose glances down at her watch and gnaws at her lip. “About an hour.”

“And Fionn?”