My blood magic was only good for one thing, a fact Siobhan had made crystal clear when she’d transferred the thread to me. But I’d made it work and carved out a life for myself. I’d been infallible until the Sheriff came along.
I rested my foot on the stone and scanned the crowd back and forth seeking the anomaly. A true chameleon, he’d blend in with any and every crowd until he’d found what he was looking for and transform into what that person wanted. I’d let him figure me out later, when I was ready. Eventually, I found him.
The Sheriff roamed through the towering aisles. I wasn’t close enough to hear, but I knew the clink, clink, clink of his spurs would be rattling through the air. A brown peaked hat and woolen cloak completed his ensemble as if to appear as though he’d trekked from the Highlands to sell his own wares and was just casually browsing his fellow countryman’s stalls.
He blended in so well, I couldn’t make out any defining features, except his boots. But it was him. He carried himself with the air of a ghost. No one noticed him and yet, they instinctively gave him a wide berth.
What was he doing here?
He paused by a crate of stacked potatoes and peered down at the produce, but his eyes remained fixed ahead. I followed his gaze, and my heart jolted. Clement stood in his usual wary pose—hand on the hilt of his saber and eyes rapidly scanning the market—with Bryn his mirror on the opposite side. The prince had his back turned, perusing a stall of scarves and gloves. His thick, satin suit of charcoal flowed down his lithe form, distinct against the hard line of Clement’s sapphire blue tunic.
My gut twisted, adrenaline snaking through my thighs. Was he after my bounty? Siobhan had said others would be lining up if I failed, but this wasn’t his style. He flourished at blackmail and seduction, not cold-hearted stalking. He liked to play with his food before eating it, not swallow it whole.
As long as he wasn’t after Clement.
I shook myself. What was wrong with me? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Clement shouldn’t matter. He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t trust me, so why was I still thinking about him? If anything, the Sheriff removing Clement would make my job easier.
Regardless of the Sheriff’s plan, I would get to the prince first.
I kicked off the wall, flicked down my hood, and skirted around the market, popping back in again so that the Sheriff would have a direct eyeline to me. I sidled up to the stall, inserting myself between Clement and the prince. I’d barely rested against the table when Clement grabbed my arm and spun me around.
“What?” he said, keeping my arm pinned, my body flush against him while he positioned the prince safely behind him. “Tam,” he groaned. The short knife on my thigh jabbed against his leg. He shook his head slowly and pushed my cloak aside, his warm hand running down my hip. But he lingered, his fingers gently squeezing. Something sparked between us like a flare of magic as he plucked the knife from the holster and pocketed it. I shouldn’t have liked it, shouldn’t have submitted, and yet I offered no resistance.
He kept the grip on my arm, his face lowered to mine. “Why have you left your post?”
“I haven’t really.” I tugged weakly to free my arm, but both my body and mind were quite content to allow him this little bit of control. Or perhaps a lot more, under the right circumstances.
“Yes, you have. Your one job is to guard Lady Lilyanna.”
“Oh, calm down.” I yanked my arm free. “She’s with Matron. I tried to bring her with me, but she reminded me about that stupid contract not allowing her outside without the prince.”
“Yes, it’s dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m out alone.”
“Good.”
I barked a laugh. His lips quirked.
“Anyway, it’s a good thing I'm here, because I’m currently saving your fine ass.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What?”
“I’m doing your beloved job for you. I’m protecting you.”
“You’re distracting me.”
I smiled coyly and fluttered my eyelashes. He raised his dark brows, the rest of his face unflinching.
“There’s a man following you. He’s been watching for at least an hour, trailing you around the market. He’s very hard to spot, so don’t beat yourself up about it. He’s practically a ghost.”
“Do you know him?”
“I know many, many people, Clement.” My smile widened as he pursed his lips. “But I can tell you, I also saw him hanging around the castle the other night. You know, when I accidentally bit you.”
“Yes, I remember.” He unfolded his arms, a hint of warmth loosening his muscles.
“He’s looking for a weak spot. He thinks that may be you.”
