“Venn!”
His head snapped in her direction. Despite the people who still streamed between them, his eyes found her, and everything inside her warmed as she became his sole focus.
He leaped off the fountain and barreled into the crowd, shouldering past everyone in his way. She lost sight of him for a moment, and she only knew Venn had also lost her briefly because when he found her again, he stumbled.
The strongest and most confident man she knew had actuallystumbled.
But even though he briefly faltered, Vera did not. She threw herself at him, knowing he would catch her.
She slammed into his hard chest, barely feeling the pain of the impact because he washere. Strong arms banded around her, tugging her so close she could barely breathe. His hold was fierce, as if she had never told him she didn’t love him. Couldneverlove him.
Fates, she loved him.
Her arms were locked around his neck and she couldn’t hold back her tears. Seventeen eternal days she’d been with Salim and finally, for the first time since she’d been taken, she was safe.
Venn buried his head in the curve of her neck and shoulder, sucking in sharp breaths as he gasped her name against her hair. Over and over, as if it was the only thing he could say. The only word left inside him.
“You came,” she rasped, her breath hitching as she cried. “You came.”
“Of course.” He spoke with finality, yet emotion roughened the words. “I’ll always come for you.”
She shuddered against him, her fingers digging into his back and bunching up the loose material of his shirt.
Don’t let this be a dream.
From beside them, a deep voice growled, “Where is she? Where is Clare?”
Venn stiffened, but Vera eased back just enough that she could look at Wilf. She hadn’t noticed him earlier—which only proved her level of distraction with Venn, because Wilf was nearly impossible to miss—but he was certainly focused on her. Wilf’s gruffness had always intimidated her. She hadn’t ever felt truly comfortable around him, until she’d seen Clare stand so calmly beside the pox-scarred giant. Then—and only then—had Vera seen Wilf’s softer side.
None of that softness was here now.
Vera struggled to find her voice. “She’s still with them.” She wanted to say more, but a sob stuck in her throat, blocking anything else.
The skin around Wilf’s eyes tightened. He stepped closer. “Where? Tell me!”
“Wilf,” Venn grated out warningly, his arms cinching around her.
“No,” she managed to say through her tears. “It’s all right. I just—I’ve been so afraid. I didn’t think I’d find you, but I’d hoped that the main square might . . .” She glanced at Wilf. His impatience was like a brand against her skin, and she forced herself to take a breath. Focus.
Clare needed her.
She peeled open her tight throat and spoke more levelly than before. “Clare is still with them. She helped me escape last night. She had her bracelet—the garrote—and she used it against Salim.” Recalling that moment brought a rush of remembered fear, and she was grateful for Venn’s hand against her lower back. “While she held him, she told me to run. I don’t know what happened to her after that—they must have overpowered her, because it wasn’t long before one of them chased after me.” Venn’s jaw clenched, and seeing that show of emotion made her voice falter. “I managed to hide, but I didn’t know what to do. How to help Clare. I . . .”
Venn took Vera’s face in his hands, his calloused thumbs swiping away the tears on her cheeks. “You did the right thing. You had no choice but to run.”
A tremor shook her. She wasn’t sure if her tears were to blame, or if it was due to Venn’s gentle touch; it was something she never thought she’d feel again.
“I left her, Venn.” Her voice cracked despite her best efforts.
Something flared in Venn’s eyes—pain?—but there was no hint of that as he spoke. “You escaped. You survived. That’s what she wanted.”
His words were a balm she hadn’t known she needed. The guilty knot in her stomach loosened somewhat. Yes, she had left Clare. But only because Clare had risked so much to buy her that freedom.
“Where is this inn?” Wilf demanded.
Venn shot the older man a glare, but Wilf’s expression didn’t register the censure. His focus was trained on Vera.
“It’s called The Knoll,” she said. “I haven’t dared go back, but—”
