“Left right after he was done. Most do. But he said he would be back tonight. When I told him to make me glow next time too, he looked at me strangely.” She shrugged. “Looked like fun, but if it’s a new pox, that’s what potions are for.”
If Tabs had seen it, that meant the illusion over the charm was waning. The charm itself would fade next. Or be removed. I gripped the edge of the knotty chair.
“Did he do anything odd?”
“Kept calling me Octavia. Told me to tell him he was a bad boy. Got to whip him. Right fun, that part. Promised me more of the same tonight.” She examined a nail. “Don’t really care what he calls me as long as I get paid. The whipping suited me just fine.”
“You...whipped him?” That explained the one in Octavia’s drawer.
“Lor, some blokes like that, girl. Where’d you come up from?” She looked me over, eyes narrowing. “Ah, so you’s one of them. Getting your skirt up for the adventure. I’ll ride that accent out of you.” She leered.
Gabriel squeezed my thigh. “Not tonight. But thank you, Tabs.” He slid a coin over.
“I’m here anytime you have need of me.” She winked and ambled off.
We didn’t stay. Gabriel swore as we hit the street.
“He knew we’d be here. Worley wouldn’t miss the opportunity for more of the activities described after days hiding away. Not from what the investigator’s notes say.”
“My magic—”
“Did its work. Subtle, novel, perfect. He hid, and when he emerged wore your sparkles through three different pubs and Tabs’s arms. Any magic will wear off if not extended.”
“What do we do now?”
“Even without your lovely spell to help us, Dresden is still after him—and he can marshal blockades. The roads out of Gildon will be watched, if Worley tries to leave.”
“Will they postpone Kennen’s trial again?”
Gabriel grimaced. “No. We will have to provide enough evidence to get him through it. I need to visit Montranc and give the latest dispatch to Edgar. He will get the papers to your brother. Just hope that your brother puts his brain toward something other than the latest fashions.”
~*~
I crouched on the floor. Minutes remained to locate the journal. Gabriel always went through his tasks quickly and efficiently. And spirits knew, Edgar didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
So far it had always been in a place that didn’t touch his personal items. As if he couldn’t bear to hide it among his belongings. I’d made the mistake of going through his things once. They all smelled of him. Warm and protective.
I peered under the bed and the serpentine chest of drawers, cheek pressed to the hardwood.
Success! The wood planks bit into my knees as I pushed my hand under the chest, grabbing the edge of the leather cover and sliding it across the floor.
I was morbidly lost in the words as soon as I opened the foul thing.
We’ll be moving to a new place for the summer. It will be painful not to see him, to hear his unwitting groans (I ache just thinking of such music! So rare for him these days!) and to be away from his stoic glare, but we have a new candidate while we are away. Nothing like our little avenger, but enough to let us play. And a tantalizing step into a new caste. I don’t know if it will be worth it, but C.F. assures he will.
Perhaps we can introduce him to our little avenger, should all go well. I.F. is anxious to have her hungers sated even before we’ve broken this one to the saddle. I see defiance already in thenew one’s stare. He thinks he stands upon the world, but will soon discover that we stand upon all.
Footsteps. I shoved the book back under the chest and scrambled to the window.
Gabriel entered, his eyes immediately pinning me. “Such a fair presence in a rather boring bedroom.”
I smiled as brightly as I could manage, leaning against the sill.
“Looking for the journal again?”
I coughed delicately into my sleeve. He tossed his cap on top of the chest, then turned and leaned against it, unbuttoning a cuff as he watched me.
“Not even a word in protest? I’m shocked, Marietta.”
