The air rushes from my lungs. He slams my head once more against the hard wooden siding. I scream again as I try to get away, twisting and turning, and pull my arm back to hit him again.
But the asshole catches my hand and clamps down hard on my wrist. I whimper, fearing he might break it.
“Just wait till the prince finds out you’ve ‘left town,’” the marquis muses, an evil grin unfurling across his lips. “Once you’re out of the way, he’ll have no choice but to pick one of my lovely girls.”
This man must be living in a different universe to believe the prince is at all interested in me. But this is the marquis, after all.
The marquis’ lackey is taller than me, heavier, and I don’t stand a chance to escape, except he’s drunk, so I do what’s worked for me in past scrapes at the Beak. Mustering the last of my strength, I drive my knee up and kick him straight in the family jewels. He bellows, folding instinctually to protect himself from further assault.
I slip free.Run, run, I tell myself, but the darkness creeps in. I can’t see, I can’t scream, and I can’t make my legs move the way I want them to.
“Get her, you idiot!” the marquis squawks.
He’s closing in again, and I punch him straight in the chest, but I hit something as hard as iron and my whole hand stings.Harvest Mother, that hurt.
“You’re wearing armor?” I croak through numbing lips.
This coward is wearing a steel jerkin under his clothes, and I’m only in my thin linen dress. Clarity strikes like a bolt of lightning, and I jab at his face, his eyes, but he turns his head just in time. Hesmashes a kerchief against my nose and mouth, the sickly scent of the devil’s breath searing my throat. He’s choking me, his fingers tightening around my windpipe. I can’t breathe. Everything’s gray again, turning to black. I go limp. I can’t fight anymore.
Just then, a strong wind rises out of nowhere. The minion’s hand is ripped away, and an invisible force throws him head over heels, slamming him against the wall like he did to me.
I take huge gulps of unnatural, ice-cold air as the sky seems to crackle and hiss, taking on a life of its own. I fall to my knees, coughing and retching. My hands go to my bruised neck.What was that?
I check my surroundings to make sure the marquis is not lying in wait, but he’s been reduced to a heap of fine fabrics by an overturned cart.
But there’s someone else here.
A man pummels his fists into the toppled marquis, hitting him again and again with thunderous blows, illuminated by a flash of otherworldly lightning. The marquis yelps and curses, shouting, “Enough! Enough!”
But the stranger is relentless.
The icy storm howls and turns down the street like Boreas has returned, shaking the trees and rattling the shutters. A vortex of debris barrels toward us.
What the hell is happening?
I struggle to get to my feet, buffeted by the wind. My entire body aches, every move eliciting some fresh pain. I collapse on the cobblestones, but Ican’t stay here. I want to be as far away from this as possible. Harvest Mother, I just want to go home. But I’m too weak to even crawl up the steps to the door as the storm roars all around me, and the sound of fists striking flesh echoes in the dark.
“Stop! Please! I’m begging you!” the marquis cries.
“If you touch her again, I will have your head!” the stranger roars, punctuated by a gust of freezing wind.
No… It couldn’t be…
All I can see is a shadow lifting the marquis by the collar before shoving him forcefully away. The marquis runs off, tripping over the shoe I threw at him earlier. His henchman scampers after him.
A wave of triumph invigorates me for a moment, but I’m still too weak to stand. Everything’s gone cold, and I’m shaking.
Now there are strong hands around me, pulling me upright. The stranger. He smells of moss and woodsmoke, of hearth and comfort. The icy wind is gone. He holds me in his arms, and I melt into them. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. Come on now, don’t fade on me.” His voice is warm and kind. Gentle.
Hold on. I know that voice.
I fight to stay awake, but it’s no use. I claw at his shirt, but the darkness closes in.
“Third time we’ve met, and I still don’t know your name,” he murmurs.
The world goes black before I can give it to him.
Chapter Eight
