Page 15

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s tied and lying on his face, and he’s got the gall to fake politeness? I expected him to struggle and rage at me, but he’s merely observing, apparently in no hurry to escape his bindings.

“Why were you at the Ravens’?” I demand. “Were you looking for me?”

He sneezes, no doubt from the dust he’s inhaled. “Excuse me. Aye, I was looking for you. As I said on the roof—you stole from me.”

“And you want your gold back?”

He shakes his head as much as he can in his position. “I want the letters.”

Interesting . I read some of those, and nothing in them was worth more than two full purses of gold.

Unless they were all written in code? That could be the real reason he wants them back.

Perhaps they’re full of important information pertaining to the Ravens.

He was watching their mansion before I ever stole from him.

I guess I’ll have to read them all and study them more closely.

“I burned them,” I lie. “So you can stop chasing after me if you don’t care about the gold.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, there one second and gone the next. I cock my head to the side. He’s an expert at hiding his emotions, this one. I shouldn’t lower my guard just because he appears calm and friendly.

“Say, you couldn’t help me sit up, could you?” he asks, shuffling awkwardly on the floor. “My mind seems to be a little fuzzy.”

“Perhaps it’s better that you remain down, then,” I snipe. “Wouldn’t want you to faint again.”

He heaves a sigh and rolls to his side, then sits in one fluid motion. I scramble back, a flash of fear spiking inside me. But he simply makes himself comfortable and extends his long legs, pointing his still-tied feet toward me.

Now that he’s upright, I study his face up close for the first time.

He’s bled quite a lot from the wound on his temple, and at the sight of the blood drying on his cheek, a queasy sensation settles in my stomach.

I’ve never been missish around injuries, but for some reason, seeing him bleed is uncomfortable, especially since I caused it.

He watches me just as closely, then nods toward me. “That looks painful. Your hand. What happened?”

I think of lying or simply remaining silent, but I need him to answer my questions, too. Besides, he already knows I broke into the Ravens’ mansion.

“I broke into Damen’s safe. He’s the leader?—”

“Of the gang, aye.” He lifts one dark eyebrow. “You broke into his office and his safe in the short time you were down there?”

He looks almost impressed. I resist the urge to preen and simply jerk my chin down.

“The safe was rigged with some kind of alchemical solution. Burned my hand.” I lift the injured thing, wincing as the movement pulls at the wrecked skin.

“I was lucky, though. If my face had been in front of it, I’d be dead. ”

A shiver goes through me when I say the words. I haven’t had time to process what happened, but it’s true. If the dust hadn’t killed me, Damen or his guards would have.

The stranger’s gaze sharpens. “What were you after? What was worth the risk?”

I purse my lips. “None of your business. What I want to know is why you’ve been watching their mansion. I saw you in the street and at the temple. You switched out with some human guards. Why does the city watch have the Ravens under surveillance?”

He leans back slightly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “There’s a pot of healing salve in my satchel. Use it on your hand, and I’ll tell you.”

“What?” I pull my hand closer to my chest, cradling it with my left.

He rolls his eyes at me. “Don’t pretend you didn’t search my bag.

” He shrugs as if trying to bring the satchel closer to him.

“If I were you, I’d steal the money, but the salve is actually more valuable.

Made by our clan healer. She’s got a touch of magic in her, you know. You’ll feel better immediately.”

I don’t trust this man. I shouldn’t trust him, anyway.

But if what he’s saying is true…can I really afford to ignore his offer?

I’d need to visit a healer first thing in the morning and hope they weren’t connected to the largest gang in Ultrup.

Or I could snatch the balm from the satchel and see if he’s telling the truth, then get the answers from him.

I palm the knife I stole from him, smirking when a muscle twitches in his jaw at the sight of it.

“You’ll sit still while I get it,” I threaten, “or you’ll be bleeding some more tonight.”

He grins, and I freeze, arrested by the sight of him. He’s uncommonly handsome, I have to admit that much to myself. I didn’t expect it, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Aye, I’ll behave, little thief,” he rumbles. “I won’t move a muscle.”

Damn . There’s nothing for it. I’ll try to grab the pot from the satchel, and if he tries anything, I’ll stick the knife in his neck. What could he do, really? Roll onto me?

The thought bolsters my courage, and I inch closer, keeping a wary eye on him.

The orc sits perfectly still, only his chest rises and falls with each breath.

I crouch beside him, shifting the knife to my right hand despite the sting in my palm, and reach for the satchel with my left.

I’d seen the pot earlier while rummaging, so I know what I’m after.

The moment my fingers close around the cool glass, I draw it out and freeze.

His head has turned toward me, eyes still shut.

He inhales deeply through his nose. He’s sniffing me.

My first instinct is to jerk back and put distance between us, because that can’t be good.

Then his eyes open, and our gazes lock, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

And there it is, the scent I remember from his room.

Cedar, sharp and clean, with something tart layered beneath—lemons, maybe.

Just a whiff, and my mouth waters, as if expecting a buttery pastry filled with sour jam.

There’s soap, too, faint but not the kind I swiped from his room.

That thought cuts through the haze I’ve slipped into. I ease back, keeping my eyes on his. He swallows thickly, then slips on that smile, the one that makes my belly flutter with something that isn’t fear.

“Smear it on thick,” he says. “You’ll feel better right away.”

I glance down at the pot in my hand. I’d nearly forgotten I was holding it, and heat creeps into my cheeks. I duck my head to hide the flush. He already knows he’s handsome and doesn’t mind using it. The last thing I want is for him to realize he has any sway over me.

Still, the fact that he’s pushing me to use the balm puts me on edge. I set the stolen knife aside, uncork the pot, and dip my left pinky into the salve. Then I smear a small amount onto the back of my hand and wait.

Relief floods in instantly. The salve tingles, cool and soothing, dulling the worst of the pain. The blister is still there, but it’s like I can’t feel it anymore. Whatever’s in this jar, it’s strong, numbing, definitely. But that doesn’t mean it’s safe. What if too much of it knocks me out?

“Use it on me if you don’t trust me,” the stranger says, breaking into my thoughts. “I’d be grateful, actually.”

I glare at him. “You want me to treat the injury I caused?”

“And the stab wound from those bullies back there.” He shrugs. “I don’t blame you, just to be clear. You were defending yourself. I’m sorry for startling you. Please forgive me.”

Gods, he sounds sincere. His dark eyes hold no deceit, and the usual smirk is gone, replaced with something startlingly earnest. Despite myself, my heart softens just a little.

He was stabbed? If that’s true, it’s probably because of me.

“Tell me what you were doing at the Ravens’ mansion, and I’ll do it,” I counter his offer.

“We suspect the Ravens are running a large-scale con,” he replies without hesitation.

“Several people have gone missing. No warning, no signs of struggle. We don’t have solid proof they’re behind it yet, but there’s been a surge of activity at their headquarters.

We’ve been watching. Waiting for a break. ”

My stomach sinks. “They’re kidnapping people?”

Gods, if Damen took Lindie… If she’s been hurt, I’ll murder the gang leader.

Then I think of the clues I saw in her room. The clothes and the shoes she—or someone else—had clearly packed for a trip. Would they have bothered with that if they were planning on hurting her?

It doesn’t make sense, and I cling to the hope that she might be all right after all.

The stranger is watching me intently, and I realize I must have given my emotions away. That’s dangerous. I don’t want to give him more power over me.

“Who is ‘we’?” I demand. “Are you working for the city watch?”

He cocks his head to the side. “I answered one question.”

Ah. So that’s how we’ll do this.

“Fine.” I kneel beside him. “If you so much as move…”

“You’ll stab me, I know.” His lips twitch as if he’s fighting back a smile. “I have a handkerchief in the pocket of my jacket. If you could wipe some of the blood away first, that would be grand. It’s drying, and it itches.”

I grit my teeth, then reach under his cloak and feel around for the thing. “This will count for two questions, let me tell you.”

“Fair enough.”

His breath brushes my cheek, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are, his face just inches from mine.

My gaze drops to his lips before I can stop it.

His lower lip is slightly fuller than the top, with his tusks poking out, white and symmetrical.

His chin is shadowed with short black stubble, like he hasn’t shaved today.

His lips part, and for a wild second, I think he might kiss me.

I snatch my hand back, clutching the handkerchief. I lean away and press it to his temple a little harder than I need to.

He winces, and regret swamps me.

“Sorry,” I murmur, easing the pressure. “Stay still.”