Page 56 of Wicked Sea and Sky

“Hunting for the shard alone could get her killed,” Bowen said.

“Which is why I refuse to sit back and let it happen. Besides, if Marin didn’t want me to know she was alive, she wouldn’t have delivered that friendly shot over the bow.”

“Friendly?Again, it was a threat. She left a dagger in your wall.”

“No. It was a challenge. And I love a good challenge.” I straightened my lapels and turned to face them. “How do I look?”

Bowen shrugged. “Eh.”

I cast a questioning gaze at Liana.

She winked. “Devastatingly handsome.”

“It’s the trimmed beard, isn’t it? See? I knew I was right to keep it.” I tucked a dagger into my boot. Then I collecteda newspaper from the nightstand and handed it to Bowen. “Before I leave, I want you to look into something for me.”

Bowen unfolded the paper, scanning the article I'd circled. Another report of a body found near the docks, a wooden disc placed on the man's temple.

“Reid's getting in deeper. We've spent three years ignoring what happened, letting everything fall apart. Cass is right. It's time we fix it.” I hesitated for half a breath. “And now that Marin's back, we need to see what he remembers.”

Bowen's gaze sharpened. “You think he knows something?”

“I'm not sure. But Marin suffered. And I won't let it happen again. So we need the truth.”

Bowen folded the paper and shoved it into his jacket. “I’ll see what I can find.”

***

The night air smelled like roses and soot.

I leaned against a marble statue, lifting a champagne flute to my lips as a servant discreetly misted a swath of formerly white roses with a mixture of water and charcoal. Water droplets beaded on the black petals, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight.

The soot-drenched roses were mere replicas of the main attraction: a potted rose bush brimming with pearlescent blooms, the edges tinged with black. The Noctis Pearls rested inside a silver cage behind a roped-off section at the front of the marble dance floor, which stretched across the stone terrace. Dancers twirled past the cage, their masks adorned with pearls and black feathers.

I took another sip and watched the crowd. The edge of the terrace was lined with torches, casting shadows on the walking paths that led through a maze of sculpted topiaries. There were easily three hundred guests, and I was searching for one in a sea of masks.

Keeping an eye on Atticus Stonebridge, I moved around the perimeter of the terrace. He was maskless, wearing a satin top hat with a Noctis Pearl poking out from the brim. Easy to spot. Which helped, since he was the unsuspecting target of a heist planned right under his nose. Literally, according to the notes left behind on Cass’s workbench.

It was an exceptional plan. And I had a front-row seat.

The music swelled as I drained my glass and handed it to a waiting server. My gaze swept over the two women who'd approached Atticus, standing court by the silver cage. They were both dressed in black silk, but their gowns were simple, without anything that might immediately catch the eye. No bows or glittering jewels. No frills. Their masks were nearly identical to the pearl and feather creations worn by half the guests in attendance.

No one would remember anything specific about them, which made them stand out to me.

You can’t catch a thief you don’t remember.

A buzz of anticipation seared through my veins as I strolled closer, mingling with the couples stopping to admire the roses inside the cage.

The first woman offered a bow to Atticus, then presented him with a unique-looking flower. Its roots were enclosed in canvas to preserve its life. The petals were bell-shaped, and I recognized the plant from the sketch I’d seen on Cass’s worktable.

Atticus leaned in, intrigued. He drew a breath to scent the rare flower, eyes drifting shut on the inhale.

“Remarkable,” he murmured, his breath misting over the petals.

With Cass’s identification confirmed, my attention shifted to the woman beside her. I was only a few feet away, and everything around me dimmed. The music, the dancers, everything that wasn’therblurred into the background.

Marin wore her hair in a sleek updo that revealed the long column of her neck. The strands gleamed in the moonlight, and I angled my head in surprise when I caught the faint shimmer of blue. She’d tried to hide the colored section, weaving it deep into her dark locks. If I hadn’t been studying her so closely, I would have missed it.

It only made me more curious. My fingers itched to let down her hair so I could see it up close. I wanted to know everything that had changed. Every scar, every mark, since the last time I saw her.