Page 21 of The Rebel and the Rose (The City of Fantome #2)
She jerked away. Too close. Too dangerous. The familiar scent of him came rushing back, heady notes of woodsmoke and sage surrounding her in a mist. She hadn’t realized how starved for it she’d been. How some vital part of her had been slumbering in his absence.
Her magic was sparking again.
She hinged backwards, afraid he would see the gold fire burning behind her eyes.
He curled his fingers into a fist. Regret flickered in his eyes, and she realized what she must look like to him, bruised and bloodied inside her cell. Perhaps he had wanted to comfort her, or simply remind himself that she was still alive. Still breathing. Still fighting.
His face turned serious. ‘The king is wary of you, Seraphine. He fears what your Order stands for. Fears that it might one day stand against him.’
Just wait until he learns what I really am .
‘The king kills all that he fears.’ Ransom ground his jaw. ‘I should know.’
She gave a mirthless huff. Of course. He was the one who killed them, after all.
‘Don’t give him anything else to be wary of,’ he said, holding her gaze. Letting the silence carry the rest of his words. She heard the warning loud and clear.
Ransom knew, or at least suspected, that there was magic inside her now. He must still remember the hint she had betrayed all those months ago when they had endured a strained goodbye in the Saints’ Quarter, how her palm had sparked against his lips when he kissed her goodbye.
He had seen the handprint burned into Lark’s chest. The golden scorch mark on his best friend’s lifeless corpse. Her doing. Her magic. A thing that thrashed and roiled inside her, longing to be free. But how could she free a thing she could not understand? A beast that seemed not to answer to her?
‘I don’t plan on drawing any more attention to myself,’ she said carefully.
‘Does this mean you’re going to do as you’re told on the road?’
She snorted. Avoiding the king’s sharpened attention while in his dungeon and diverting from his orders while out in the wilds of Valterre were two different things entirely. And what was Ransom expecting? That she’d bend her knee to him ? ‘Or what? This time, you’ll really kill me?’
‘Maybe I will.’
‘I guess some threats never get old.’
They regarded each other in the uneasy silence, everything that had happened over the last four months filling the space between them.
The truth was that despite their enmity, Sera had fled the city with his permission.
Even after killing his best friend, he had let her go.
He had taken over the Order of Daggers just to keep them from chasing her.
That had been their agreement. Her freedom, for his own.
She would run and he would stay.
And kill, and kill, and kill.
He looked so drained now. So unhappy.
Perhaps that’s why the words flew from her mouth. ‘I thought you would come to me. I thought you would find me again.’
His smile turned rueful. ‘That’s because you’re an idealist.’
‘And what are you, Ransom?’
‘You know what I am, Seraphine.’
A killer. Cold-blooded and clear-eyed. That’s how he saw himself.
But she had once known the man beneath the Shade.
Bastian, his mother had named him. Raised for a gentler sort of life, before his father had chased her off with his fists.
Because her father had found him on the banks of the Verne. Made him a killer.
Sera curled her fingers around the bars of her cell. ‘We are all more than just one thing.’
‘Not when the thing you are is a Dagger.’
Footsteps sounded nearby. The guards were doing their rounds. Spurred by a rising urgency, Sera said, ‘I need you to find Bibi for me. I have to know that she’s all right. That she knows what’s happening. I don’t want her to think we’ve just left her to rot here.’
‘Do you want a tea tray while I’m at it? I don’t exactly have free rein around here.’
‘You’re the king’s prized assassin. I think you’ll survive.’ He quirked a brow. ‘ Please ,’ she said, dispensing with her sarcasm if only for Bibi. ‘You’re the only one who can help me.’
He raked a hand through his hair, unsettling the thick black strands.
Footsteps drew closer.
‘I really need—’
‘You know I will.’ Rolling to his feet, he dusted the dirt from his trousers. ‘I’ll find your friend.’
Sera stood too. She clutched the bars. He leaned down until they were almost nose to nose, the metal stark and cold between them.
‘See you at dawn, Seraphine.’ His words were a taunt against her lips. ‘And remember … behave .’
She rolled her eyes.
He huffed a quiet laugh, pulling away.
She stepped back into the shadows, letting the darkness enfold her. The soldiers were coming her way, and she didn’t want them to see she was awake. Ransom took off in the opposite direction, winding his way down into the darkest reaches of the dungeon, without breaking his assured stride.
Closing her eyes, she listened to his fading steps, hoping they would lead him to Bibi. Once the soldiers had come and gone, she turned her nose into her collar, breathing in his scent.
‘You shouldn’t do that, you know.’ Theo’s voice filled the echoing silence.
She jerked her chin up. ‘Do what?’
‘Make the Dagger think he still has a chance with you.’
Sera chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of what to say.
‘The king has shown his hand, Sera. He intends to kill anyone he deems more powerful than him. He fears a new Age of Saints more than anyone else in this kingdom. If he hears of more … of others… He’ll do everything in his power to kill them too.’
He’ll kill you .
Sera’s heart pounded like a war drum. Theo was right. If they were clever enough to find their way to Prince Andreas, they wouldn’t be killing him. They’d likely be joining him.
Against the king.
Against the Daggers.
Against Ransom.
If she lost sight of that, she’d lose herself, and everything she had worked for – everything Mama had worked for – her whole life.
A better kingdom.
A better world.
So long as Ransom was a Dagger, he would always be her enemy.
And yet, if she was going to betray him and the king’s mission, he mustn’t see it coming. He mustn’t know what she was truly capable of.
Even if she didn’t quite yet know herself.