I laugh and turn in her arms, taking her face in my hands. “I need to go to the docks today.”
She makes her pouty face, that full bottom lip curling, and gods’ death, it makes my blood heat. It’s ridiculous that such an innocent, playful expression gets to me like it does, but it makes me want to bend her over and fuck her right here. I have no explanation for why it affects me so brutally.
“Trust me,” I tell her, lowering my hands to her hips. “I want to stay in this lighthouse with you for the rest of the day.”
Repeating last night, until her hungry mouth reduces me to a sweating, panting, begging mess.
I can still see her lips around my cock. Still feel my own magick vibrating from her tongue, the way she continued stroking and sucking as my restraint shattered. I can see the ecstasy in her eyes as I took her throat as deep and punishing as I would’ve taken her body. And I can still taste her kiss, the taste of us.
“But this sanctuary is only temporary,” I say, a reminder to myself amid a flood of distracting thoughts. “Or it’s supposed to be. We’ve yet to hear anything from Dedrick Terrowin, so I’m going to see him. I’ll take Rhonin with me.”
“I could go with you,” she signs.
I tighten my hands on her hips. “You should stay here and see what Zahira turns up at the archives. Go to the beach. Lounge in the pool. Visit Zahira’s library or Yaz’s gardens. Dress for dinner tonight. The docks can be rough. I somehow think taking a beautiful woman for a stroll around lonely seamen might not be my wisest decision. I’m trying to avoid attention.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles and signs the word Charmer.
I lean in for a kiss. “Charm has never been my strong suit. Just know that this evening, the birthbane will have had plenty of time to take effect. Then, you’re mine, and I won’t be gentle.”
Her eyes sparkle. There’s a tug on my heart and a sweet hum through the rune. Though the day’s deeds are pressing, I sweep Raina up and take her back to bed anyway. She snatches the silken sashes hanging from the bedpost on the way and slips them around my neck.
Placing one knee on the mattress, I lay her on the cooled sheets and crawl on top of her with a smile on my face. “Practice makes perfect, I suppose.”
She grins and signs one word as I kiss my way down her body. “Indeed.”
“I’m here to see Dedrick Terrowin.”
Rhonin and I stand inside a small, dirty office located in a run-down warehouse near Malgros’s shipyard, our weapons glamoured. It’s already noon, later than I’d hoped to be here, but leaving my bed with a naked Raina Bloodgood lying in it wasn’t easy. That man, Alexus Thibault, is gone now, though. I’ve shed him and taken on the old, yet still familiar skin of Alexi of Ghent.
The skinny young man behind the desk gives me a once-over that says he doesn’t trust me in the least. As he shouldn’t.
“I’m a friend of Captain Osane’s,” I tell him. “She sent word yesterday that she needed to speak with Mister Terrowin. I’m here to facilitate that meeting.”
The young man scrubs his hand through his oily mop of hair and gives me yet another once-over. Warily, he spares a long look at Rhonin who stands a foot behind me like a guard. “Mister Terrowin isn’t in,” he says. “Hasn’t been for days. I received the message, however, and when he returns to the office, I will surely give it to him.”
I lean down and splay my hands on the messy desk. I can smell his lie. Even better, I can see it. Terrowin’s signature dated from yesterday is right there, on a shipment inventory list, the lettering different from all the other refuse littering this desk—tins of fishy smelling food, scattered contracts, and random slips of scribbled-upon parchment.
“Then tell me where he lives,” I say, lowering my voice, my face tight. “I’ll find him my godsdamn self. The matter is urgent.”
The young man sits back in his chair, his eyes round. “He isn’t home either, sir. Last I saw him, he was leaving the Bitter Barrel, with… a woman.”
Fuck. “When?”
He hesitates. Which is foolish.
I rip my dagger free from its sheath and let it pass through the glamour. With a firm hand, I slam the tip into the desk. “I asked you nicely. When.”
He holds up his hands. “L-last n-night, dear sir. He’d had a lot of ale.”
Rolling my eyes, I jerk my dagger from the wood and re-sheathe it behind the glamour. The young man’s eyes track the movement. His gaze then follows my hand as I reach into my jacket pocket and retrieve a hefty handful of silver coins. When I drop them onto the desk, the man gapes.
“Find Terrowin,” I tell him. “Drag him off that woman’s pussy and get his ass to Starworth Tor before nightfall tomorrow. If you do that,” I gesture at the money, “there’s more where this came from.”
As Rhonin and I turn for the door, the young man clears his throat and squeaks out a broken, “B-but wh-what if I c-can’t?”
Pausing, I level a look over my shoulder. “Then I’ll be back for my money, dear sir. And to commandeer Terrowin’s motherfucking ship.”
Rhonin and I head to the Merchant Quarter. The port was a long walk from Starworth Tor, but I’m still glad we chose against having Harmon cart us around like dignitaries. We take in the view of the cranes and the ships at dock, and the busy street that crests Village Hill.
