Page 15 of The Rebel and the Rose (The City of Fantome #2)

The sack was ripped from her head, taking several strands of hair with it.

Wincing at the flare of light, she blinked furiously, catching quick glimpses of her surroundings.

A dining room more splendid than any she had ever seen.

Lush forest-green wallpaper and gilt-framed oil paintings.

A crackling fireplace and a three-tiered chandelier dripping from a high corniced ceiling.

Across the table, someone cleared their throat.

Sera jerked her chin down.

What little breath she had left her.

Ransom Hale was sitting directly across from her.

There was a Dagger on either side of him, a woman Sera knew as Nadia Raine, and a tall lethal-looking man she couldn’t place.

She paid them little mind, the sudden violent tug in her chest dragging her attention back to him .

It was like seeing the sun rise after an endless night, his handsomeness so acute that for a moment, she felt punched through with longing.

But those eyes… Saints . Those honeyed eyes that had once looked upon her with such naked desire now burned with firelight and rage.

All of it for her.

Confusion careened over Sera. Why in Saint Oriel’s name was Ransom Hale sitting across from her in the king’s royal dining room? Looking thoroughly unaccosted – well kempt and well rested, without a single dark hair out of place. He looked good. Too good.

On his right-hand side, Nadia looked good too. Apart from the vicious scowl on her face. The other Dagger looked faintly amused. A thick scar spiderwebbed the entire left side of his shorn head, but it was not a recent injury.

Was Ransom behind her kidnapping? Had he ordered the bruises that now marred her face in revenge for the smugglers she had stolen from under his nose? For the Lightfire that would soon destroy his hold on the city?

Did he think her a rebel too?

The deep sting of betrayal made her stiffen in her seat.

Shoving down her traitorous simmering attraction to him, she returned his glare with as much ferocity as she could muster.

She wanted to tell him to wipe that murderous look off his face.

He had no right to judge her for anything she had done these last few months.

Not while those hands of his were covered in fresh shadow-marks.

And there were more still through the V of his shirt.

At least twice as many kills than weeks since they had last seen each other.

Theo grunted as the bag was removed from his head.

A quick side-glance revealed his silver hair was stained red from an ugly gash on his forehead.

A deep bruise marred the underside of his jaw and his shirt had been ripped down to his breastbone.

His turquoise eyes were narrowed, filled with the same hatred that shone at them from across the table.

Three Daggers. Two Flames. Four soldiers standing straight-backed against the walls, silently observing them.

Ransom’s attention remained entirely on Sera, his eyes flicking along her face, like he was counting her cuts and bruises. Cataloguing his victories, no doubt. She bit down on her gag, hating her forced silence.

Last autumn, they had spent weeks trying to kill each other across the quarters of Fantome, traded vicious insults and even bloodied wounds. And yet, in all that time, she had never seen the Dagger look so… feral .

And his eyes weren’t even silver.

Without a lick of Shade in his system, Ransom Hale was entirely himself. Clear-headed and hazel-gazed, and all the more menacing for it.

‘Red really is your colour, Seraphine.’ Breaking the strained silence, Nadia offered a leering smirk. ‘I love how all that blood turns your hair pink.’

Theo grunted around his gag.

Sera let the barb wash over her. She knew she was blood-soaked. It was hardly a surprise that the Dagger would enjoy the sight of it, after what had happened with Lark at the Aurore. She refused to give her the satisfaction of flinching.

Ransom’s fingers slowly curled into fists, drawing Sera’s attention to the gaudy skull ring on his left hand.

The same ring her father had worn as Head of the Daggers.

Revulsion prickled along her skin. She looked away, towards the empty seat at the top of the table.

It was high-backed and lined in red velvet.

Guarded, even now, by two stern-faced soldiers.

Was the king truly coming? Or was this spectacle some kind of grand power play arranged by the Daggers? In the fog of her mind, she didn’t know which was worse. Only that she was seated too close to the fireplace. Smoke thinned the air, snatching away the oxygen she so desperately needed.

She inhaled sharply, her lungs contracting as they struggled for breath. Nadia was still talking. Ransom was silent. Seething. Theo was struggling against his binds.

Sera’s vision started to blur.

The Dagger beside Ransom reclined in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I see it, you know,’ he remarked. ‘Even under all that caked blood. Actually, the blood makes her hotter. But that’s probably just me.’

A muscle ticked in Ransom’s jaw. ‘Shut the fuck up, Caruso.’

‘Oh, do you prefer the strained silence where we all just death-stare each other?’ Caruso turned on Theo then, arching a dark brow. ‘And by the way, what the fuck is Hugo Versini doing at the table? Did someone dig up that grave too?’

Nadia bristled. ‘Do not joke about that.’

What did that mean? Sera’s curiosity swiftly flittered away. She was trying too hard not to pass out.

Caruso leaned across the table. ‘Are you sure you’re sitting on the right side of things here, Versini?’

Theo jerked, letting out a string of muffled curses. If that gag wasn’t stuffed halfway down his throat, he would have eviscerated Caruso, even if this particular Dagger, with his icy bright eyes and savage smile, looked as wild and lethal as a wolf.

‘Did you really think you’d get away with it?’ said Nadia, turning her venom back on Sera. ‘That we wouldn’t know it was you who took him after what you did at the Aurore?’

The haze in Sera’s head thickened. She blinked, slow and heavy, trying to fight the sluggishness in her mind. Her head lolled to one side, the effort of holding it up suddenly too great.

‘Remove her gag,’ Ransom ordered the soldiers, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘She’s suffocating.’

‘Let her choke,’ said Nadia.

No one moved.

Theo slammed his bound hands against the table.

Sera heaved, desperately seeking a morsel of air.

The soot stung her eyes. She was embarrassed at how tears streaked her cheeks, mingling with the dried blood there.

In all the ways she had envisioned her reunion with the Head of the Daggers, not once had she ever imagined herself like this: bloody and beaten and slowly suffocating.

Black spots swarmed her vision. She was so spent she didn’t even flinch when Ransom lunged across the table. He steadied her jaw with one hand – his grip deceptively gentle, despite the violence in his eyes – and with the other, deftly yanked the gag from her mouth.

‘ Breathe , Seraphine,’ he said in a low, hurried voice. ‘Come on.’

Gasping down a ragged inhale, Sera threw her head back, greedily filling her aching lungs.

Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, and she let them fall, no longer caring.

When she looked back again, Ransom was already back in his chair.

Sitting as stiff as a statue, as though he hadn’t just sprung across the table to help her.

‘Very gallant,’ remarked Caruso. ‘Should I do the same for Versini, or do you think he’ll bite me?’

‘Why gag me in the first place?’ croaked Sera. ‘Am I supposed to be grateful now?’

Ransom ignored her, moving his glare to the guard that stood nearest Theo.

‘Here’s a tip, soldier. Next time you’re tasked with transporting the king’s prisoners, don’t suffocate them at his dinner table before he shows up.

’ He bared his teeth, his voice becoming a low growl.

‘Or beat them to a bloody fucking pulp without instruction.’

She supposed she had her answer, even if he hadn’t bothered to direct it at her. This was not Ransom’s doing after all. She was embarrassed by the silent rush of her relief.

Lip curling, she said, ‘I imagine that was part of their fun.’

‘More like a necessary means,’ sneered the soldier. ‘The firebrands gave chase.’

‘You ambushed us!’

The soldier simply snorted, not even bothering to deny it.

Ignoring them, Sera turned to help Theo with his gag. With her hands bound, she had to twist fully in her seat to reach the knot at the back of his head, but even with trembling fingers, she managed to undo it.

He spat the rag out, and a string of curses with it. Most were directed at the leering soldiers, but he reserved a few choice words for Caruso, who weathered it all with a big shit-eating grin.

Ransom bolted to his feet.

Sera whipped her head around, sure she had missed something vital in the exchange.

Nadia glowered up at him. ‘Leave it, Ransom.’

‘He can’t help himself,’ said Caruso, with a chuckle.

‘What are you talking about?’ rasped Sera.

It was Caruso who answered, dragging a finger along the front of his neck. She thought it was a threat but then Theo said in a quiet, furious voice, ‘There are fingerprints all over your neck.’

Ah. That’d be the attempted strangulation. It’s not like Sera wasn’t already keenly aware of the bruises. Ransom must have seen them when she’d twisted to untie Theo’s gag.

He rounded the dining table, like a beast on the hunt. On instinct, Sera huddled closer to Theo, but for once, the Dagger wasn’t glaring at her. All that rippling hatred was fixed on the soldiers that had carted them up here only moments ago.

They drew their swords. ‘At ease, Dagger.’

‘I’m surprised you’re familiar with that term,’ he spat.

The first soldier raised his sword, and Sera was pleased to see that it trembled a little.

‘Word to the unwise,’ Caruso called out. ‘I’d stow that ceremonial toothpick, before he shoves it up your ass.’

Ransom lunged, swiping the sword without so much as a tussle. In the next instant, it was pressed against the soldier’s neck. Sera was just starting to enjoy herself when Nadia moved, sliding across the table like a cat on the prowl.

She grabbed her bloodstained collar, yanking her up from her seat. ‘Where did you take him?’ she hissed. ‘Tell me or I swear I’ll gut you right here on this table.’

Sera headbutted her, knocking her back. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

Nadia rose to her knees on the table, but Theo was on his feet then, swinging his bound hands like a club.

Nadia dodged the blow, but it seemed to activate Caruso, who prowled around to the other side of the table.

‘Let the ladies work this out, Versini, or I’ll add an inch to that nasty gash on your forehead. ’

Sera registered a faint cracking sound as Ransom smashed his fist into the face of the soldier behind her.

Her eyes remained on Nadia who was coming at her again.

This time, Sera hinged backwards, nearly toppling from her chair as she dodged the seething Dagger.

Theo surrendered his fight with Caruso to grab a butter knife from the table.

Nadia, meanwhile, palmed a fork and placed it under Sera’s chin. ‘Start talking, graverobber.’

Sera stiffened as the prongs bit into her skin, pressing her back against the chair. Behind her, an all-out brawl had broken out. Caruso jumped into the fray as the other three soldiers swarmed Ransom, trying to wrangle him into submission.

Chaos descended in a fury. Sera couldn’t hear Nadia’s threats over the sudden chorus of shouts, but the fork was slowly biting into her skin. Theo, who had worked his hands free with the knife now, knocked the makeshift weapon from Nadia’s hands, just as the door to the dining room swung open.

In walked the King of Valterre.