Finally, I said, “I think I have a way. Do you know the men your father would trust with guarding Myth?”
“No, but I could probably find out. At least narrow it down to a few. He changes guards all the time, but he does have a pool of men he trusts.”
“Okay, if you can narrow it down to a few, we can still make it work. I bet they gamble. Probably employ women who work bottomside, right?” Vanya made a face, but I kept talking as Rush nodded. “Okay, so they might be enticed by a fortune teller if, say, they were a little tipsy and the woman with them insisted?”
“Go on,” Rush said.
“I know a fortune teller who’s popular in my neighborhood. If we stationed her near whatever brothel these men frequent, we could get them to sit and talk to her. She’s good at asking questions. Good at reading what people tell her. She could probably get what we need.”
“A fortune teller?” Vanya said, dropping her face into her hands.
“It could work.” Rush scooted forward in his chair. “If she asked questions about where they were going to be or told a false fortune about an upcoming job going wrong or something like that, they might spill something useful. It’s better than blindly targeting every unscheduled train coming in and out of my father’s estate.”
Vanya sighed. “Fine. Fortune teller it is.”
With a satisfied smile, Rush lounged back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “I’ll see what I can dig up on Myth’s whereabouts. Once we know where he is, we will need to move fast.”
“Understood,” I said. Then I rubbed my hands down my lap to smear away the nervous sweat that had built up. “Even if we find Myth, I’ll have no proof we passed the bond test. Your father will never admit it.”
Vanya stood. “I doubt Fairfax will let them get away with that. We will have you back at Cardan Lott in no time.”
Rush also stood. “I hope you’re right. But my father can silence a lot of people if he chooses to.”
Vanya pouted at him but didn’t contradict him. She moved toward the foyer, but Rush lingered.
“Thank you,” I said, rising from the couch. “For getting me out of jail.”
An amused huff wafted from his mouth. “I could say the same to you.”
“Then why don’t you?” I said, tilting my chin up.
“And admit I needed saving? Never.”
“Arrogant aristocrat.” The space between us had grown slimmer, the heat in the room rising with each step.
“Prickly cactus.”
I poked him in the chest, but he grabbed my wrist, tugging me closer. My pulse, thundering through my veins, surely rattled against his palm.
Trying to keep my voice from shaking, I said, “You’re supposed to hate me, Mr. Covington.”
His lips twitched. “I’ve never been a fan of doing what I’m supposed to.”
Saints, I wanted him to kiss me. But if he did, and then he stopped, I might not ever be the same. Whatever was flickering in his eyes right now was only mischief, nothing more, I told myself.
“Coming?” asked Vanya from the foyer.
I tugged on my hand, and he let it fall away. His posture sagged a little, and his fingers brushed mine as I turned to follow Vanya.
I was a bottomsider, and he might as well be a prince. I couldn’t afford to live in dreams anymore.
CHAPTER 39
Bev’s table—which was now housed under a narrow velvet tent—was set up outside Grave’s, a popular boarding house not known for the quality of the rooms. I shoved down a gag as I glanced up at the lit windows. I approached the maroon velvet, which was pulled aside to indicate she was awaiting her next customer, and cleared my throat.
“Bev?”
Before she looked up, her cheeks pinched as she smiled down at her deck of cards. “Arivelle Mireaux. You finally want something you can’t get.” She glanced up, and a small laugh left her thin lips when she saw me.
