“Quiet,” I bark as I push open the door at the end of the corridor. It opens to a dark, narrow hall that looks like something used only for hotel staff, dimly lit by the occasional wall lamp. The floral scent veers off to the right and down a flight of stairs.
I descend the first step, but Astrid yanks hard on her cuff, her other hand wrapping around the top of the rail. “Don’t you dare just tell me to be quiet.”
I charge back up the step and round on her. “We don’t have time for—”
My words snag on the back of my throat as I feel something move against my thigh. Eyes wide, I glance down and find her hand in my trouser pocket. I know she’s only reaching for my key, yet her bold touch stuns me nonetheless. So much so that by the time I gather my wits and try to knock her hand away, she already has the key in her fingers. With a triumphant grin, she brings the key to her cuff and slams it into the lock—
Her colorless, shapeless eyes go wide, and she tries the key again.
A dark laugh rumbles in my chest as I watch her futile efforts a few seconds longer. “That’s my room key,” I say as I reach into my pocket—the same one her hand was so brazenly buried in—and pull out a much smaller key. “Thisis the key to these cuffs.”
She reaches for it, but I pull it far out of reach. With a growl, she edges closer until her body is pressed against mine. She all but climbs up my chest in her attempts to reach the key. With a quick swipe of my leg beneath hers, she loses her footing. I wrap both my arms around her before she can fall on her ass, but I don’t let her up all the way. Instead, I keep her in an angled dip so that she can’t gain purchase with her feet. My face hovers mere inches from hers. The smell of lemons turns bitter, almost strong enough to bury the floral trail I’m still desperate to follow.
I meet her eyes and feel something tighten in my chest. It’s that urge again, that need to protect her. My next word comes out far softer than I intend. “Enough.”
She pushes her free hand, still clamped around my room key, against my chest.
But I don’t budge. “Enough,” I say again.
“No! I won’t stop fighting you. Not if you’re so set on taking me to my death.”
Another squeeze to my heart. “There’s something I need to retrieve right now. If I don’t do it soon…just…I already told you I’d rip out your throat if you don’t come quietly.”
Slowly, she lifts her chin, then angles her head to the side, exposing the length of her neck to me. It would be seductive if not for our violent topic of conversation. The scent of bitter lemons darkens with a heavy wave of fear. “Do it then.”
I stare down at the delicate flesh she’s exposed—flesh I can clearly see. Her pulse leaps at the base of the column of her neck. My heart slams against my ribs in echo.
Something stirs inside me, something warm and unwelcome. It takes its place next to that damn instinct of mine to protect her. Mingling with it. Taunting me.
“Blooming hell,” I curse as I pull her upright and step as far away from her as our chained hands will allow. “Every moment we linger here is another moment the thief can get away. I need to get what they stole.”
She tries to cross her arms but gives up when she realizes her cuffed hand won’t allow such a gesture without forcing her closer to me. Instead, she plants her free hand on her hip. “Why should I care?”
Annoyance burns in my chest, chasing away the other less convenient emotions. I need to get her to comply. Fast. “Look,” I say through my teeth, “come with me calmly right now and I will…I’ll allow you a full hour to tell your side of the story.”
She blinks at me a few times. “You will?”
“Yes.”
“Promise me,” she says, stepping forward. “Promise you will give me a full hour to tell my side. Promise me that you will listen with your undivided attention and actuallytryto decipher whether I could be innocent.”
My mind blares a warning that fae promises are nearly as binding as bargains. But this is a promise I can keep. Even if I vow to give her a chance to prove her innocence, it doesn’t mean I won’t still take her to Queen Tris. “I promise,” I rush to say before she can add any stipulations. “Now, let’s—”
She lunges forward, swiping her fingers at my hand. Once again, I lift the key to the cuffs out of reach. I pin her with a glare. “That isn’t what I call coming calmly.”
She shrugs and glares right back. “I was very calm about it.” Her tone tells me that she’ll likely try again.
Which gives me an idea.
Holding her gaze, my lips curl into a devious grin. With my cuffed hand, I tug on the waistband of my trousers. My other hand drops the key straight into my underbritches. “Try and get it now.”
She gasps, the apple blossoms in her scent profile growing almost as strong as the bitter lemon. It’s a dynamic I haven’t witnessed in her before. “You’re disgusting,” she says, averting her gaze from my crotch. If I could see her face better, I’m willing to bet I’d find her blushing.
It gives me no small amount of smug satisfaction.
I gently tug her cuff, and she starts walking without any further retort. Meanwhile, I force away memories of Astrid’s hand in my pocket and return my attention to the thief’s trail.
7
