For a heartbeat, he only stares, eyes catching firelight and starlight both. Then his mouth curves into a sardonic grin. “Been runnin’ all my life. Don’t know about no faithful path. Only prayin’ I done lately was between them soft thighs a’yours.”
I gasp and bury my face in my hands. What a vile thing to say, and yet the memory of my release sends a jolt through me.
“Sweetest thing I ever tasted. Sweeter than molasses in that pot.”
I shake my head. “It was carnal sin, and I will not speak of it. You’ll damn us both.”
His thumb drags slow along my jaw, rough as sand. “Heaven can have your soul, but your body belongs to me now.”
The words strike through me, a lash of heat and fear both. “No.” I push his hand away. “I was Joseph’s before. His possession. His property. I’ll not be that again. Not for you, not for anyone.”
For a moment, he freezes and the night holds still, but then the wrinkle in between his brows relaxes. “Yes, Miss Alice.”
The way he says it—not deferent, not polite, but mocking, just as he’d mocked the staff at the inn—makes a startled laugh escape me, sharp and wrong in the hush of twilight. I clap a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late.
“Shhh,” he scolds through a chuckle. “You make a piss-poor outlaw, laughin’ loud enough to wake the dead. We’re running from the law, remember? Might as well string up a lantern and wave ’em over.”
My laugh dies in my throat, replaced by a crooked smile I can’t quite smother. Resting on one arm, he leans in and presses his mouth to mine. His kiss is tender, breath warm. The scruff of his beard scrapes my chin, scented faintly with the perfume of our sin.
He draws back. “There’s caged and there’s kept. One’s got bars, but the other’s shelter,” he says, gesturing up to the tanned hide overhead. “Protection. I ain’t meant to trap you, just to keep you safe.”
“For now.” The words comes out cold, wounded, like a spoiled girl, injured he hadn’t proposed marriage under the moon and heavens. How could I be so foolish? He’s a beast. A killer. Why would I be hurt if a man like that ever left me behind? Yet the thought of being abandoned by him makes me want to cry into his chest.
“Now’s all there is. A man like me never knows if he’ll see another day.”
I’ve never met a man who lived his life with such intensity he risked snuffing out his own flame. But tomorrow is not promised for any person. Surely he must have hopes. Dreams.
“Not knowing what tomorrow brings does not change what we want for ourselves.”
His touch returns. A featherlight sweep of his knuckles against my cheek, and my bones turn to jelly.
“Ain’t I made it plain enough?” His hazel eyes lock with mine, steady as the constellations. “I want you.”
The hunger in his voice pours lamp oil on the fire already smoldering in my belly. I could lose myself in his mouth, bury my hands in that wild tangle of hair and straddle his hips like awoman possessed. I could mount him and take that monstrous thing inside. Let him buck and rut and ruin me, stealing every last trace of my virtue. Just the thought of it makes me ache. My heart erupts into my throat, and a flash of heat scalds my cheeks. I clutch the blanket and quickly wrench myself onto my side, turning my back between us. It’s only temptation. It must be the Devil’s voice whispering in my ear.
Inching closer, the warmth of him wraps around me, his chest meeting my back, the weight of his arm curls possessively at my waist. He rests his cheek against my hair, mouth at my ear. “The way you look at me, the way your body sang for me… Alice, you can try to fight it, but I know you want me too.”
His husky voice sends a rush through me, sparks exploding in my blood like the first glints of starlight breaking through the dark.
I steel myself. “I tended to you because you were gravely injured and I was able to help. My duty was to God, as it is now. I’m flesh and blood, and I gave in to lust. But I am a decent woman, and for my sins, I beg forgiveness. It was wrong, and it will not happen again, Mr. Randolph.”
He pauses and exhales a dark chuckle, the warmth of his breath at my nape. “If lying to yourself helps you sleep, Miss Alice, you go right on and do it. But you ain’t foolin’ me, and I reckon that God of yours knows better too.”
“When you run from the devil, you find him in the road.”
— Creole Proverb
I thoughtthe bustle of the Sherman Inn during the Astral Society’s visits was overwhelming, but I have never seen so manypeople in all my life. The streets of New Orleans are swarming everywhere I turn. And the noise! Voices on every side in tongues I’ve never heard. My goodness, a silent moment cannot exist here. Horses clomp past, streetcars rattle on their rails, and steamboat whistles drift in from the Mississippi.
The Hotel de Chartres has six windows stacked one above the other, straight from ground to roof. Inside, the city’s din fades, replaced by the roar of guests and the clatter of silverware in a French dining room that would put Mrs. Baxter’s humble kitchen to shame. The ceilings soar with elaborate scrollwork I’ve only ever seen in the postcards Joseph’s parents sent from Europe.
Of all the places I thought we might go, never did I dream of anywhere so fine as this. Kodiak and I—clad in dusty, travel-stained clothes, my petticoat wrinkled—are a tarnish on silver. No wonder he hurries us to the front desk.
“I’m told Mr. Archer arranged a suite for my wife and me,” he says, his voice unusually polished. The concierge appraises us, lip curled, as though weighing whether it is worth searching his book for the name.
Kodiak clears his throat. “I know we must look a fright. We’ve been upriver on the hunt and came straight here to settle in. Our valet usually tends to every arrangement. I could have him send a telegram if you require, but truly, if you’ll check your ledger, you’ll find it in hand.”
There’s no trace of his usual gruff demeanor in his lie.
