“Wait!Where do you think you’re going?”
Lux leaned forward on the luxurious seat, her gaze riveted on the slivered space between Corvin and the door. On a frazzled Sven, hair a vast array of direction, barreling toward them.
“Please.Miss. Saints above, I never got your name. Where are you—”
“Sven!” Magda stood now at the inn’s entrance, her stare severe. “Viktar needs you.”
“But she’s going with—”
“He needsyou.”
Sven shifted backward, his expression torn. Corvin climbed in, and Lux said, “Take care,” and nothing more, because neither did she truly know them nor wish to see them again.
But Sven’s worried frown only deepened. “Please don’t stay,” he replied, entirely too solemn, before Corvin shut him out.
Lux parted the curtain as they lurched forward, giving her enough time to watch Sven arguing with Magda on the porch, his brown cheeks coloring a deep red.Good riddance,she thought, easing back.
“Friends of yours?”
Lux breathed a humorless laugh as she turned her attention to the man opposite her. While his gloves were in place and his coat buttoned, he went without a hat or hood. Away from the autumn air, it was a comfortable temperature in the carriage, and Lux lowered her own. His head tilted, studying her as if she were a portrait, which prompted her to raise her eyebrow and say, “They tried to rob me in Ravenwood. The oldest of them died of a bad heart, and when I revived him in exchange for my freedom, I received my being outed as a necromancer in a suspicious town in return. So no, not friends of mine.”
“Death to the Devil,” snorted Corvin, and his eyes appeared to lose some of their iciness. “Did you come from Loxlen? Someone should have warned you Ravenwood is filled with bandits.They’re a lawless bunch preying on anyone they can, but our carriages are usually left alone.”
“I did, and no one said anything of it.” She scowled as her heart niggled at her to be fair. “I suppose I hardly spoke with anyone either.”
His stare deepened, his gaze assessing. “It must be difficult to connect with the living when what calls to you most often is death.”
Lux sucked a breath. When her throat constricted next, she tried to swallow but failed.
She didn’t know what she should say. If she even wanted to acknowledge it at all.
How could he say such a thing to her?
She despised how he’d managed to verbalize her insecurity so simply; in fact, she couldsay she hated it. She’d become so good at masking herself, she wondered at what point she’d let it slide from her face. Or had it been plucked from her—weeks ago—by a boy in an alcove in a mansion far away? He was a thief, after all.
What she did know was if this collector kept staring like that, as if he could see beyond any shred of armor still intact from Ghadra, she would leap from this carriage, damning herself to bandits and whatever else.
Lux dragged her gaze away. “I’m trying,” she managed.
“All we can ever do, correct? At any rate, you should be safe from further bandits or anything else while you’re with me. Mothlock is well-known and widely respected for its work. We’re not bothered.”
“You must have collected a grudge from someone if your investors are being poisoned.”
Corvin’s nose wrinkled. “Right. That. That is new.”
“Maybe your Mistress Lefroy will eventually remember who murdered her.”
“She doesn’t; I’d hoped for that too. But the victims have each had a mark.” He lifted his finger to just below his ear. “A bloodied one. She remembers the prick and nothing else.”
“I didn’t even notice.”
“It was small, so I’m not surprised.”
Lux took a turn then in studying him as he had her. His eyes remained focused on her all the while she did. As if he wished to hide nothing from her. As if he’d never known masking. It was…unnerving.
“You aren’t worried,” she decided.
Corvin blinked at her, slow and deliberate. “It will be handled.”
