His jaw flexed. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” she said, holding his gaze. “And so do you, if you’re honest. If you want results, you need to make it real.”
“You think I’d use you as bait?”
“I think,” she said slowly, “you already are. The difference is whether it will work or not.”
Maxen glanced at his brothers.
Reaper’s grin sharpened.
Knight’s arms remained folded.
Dagger said nothing.
“Saint rides in my coat,” he said, clipped. “Hat down, head high. Tom wears a dress and bonnet and keeps his face down. They take the main way past the last houses, cut through the market, then out to the open road. The rest follow closely. You, Miss Turner, remain with me, two horses behind until we see who bites.”
“And if no one does?” she asked.
“They will.”
“Because you hope so?” she returned. “Or because you’ve done this before with a woman they already know?”
Damn it.
“Your boy will be a poor version of me. If your trap depends upon them believing I am in that carriage, then I must be in that carriage.”
“You’re not bargaining with me.”
“You’re right, I am not bargaining.” Her chin lifted. “I am stating a requirement.”
Reaper let out a low whistle. “The mouse comes with terms. This is why I avoid women.”
Maxen shot his brother a filthy look.
“What?” Reaper slouched deeper, palms raised in mock innocence. “She has a point,frère. If you want a fox, you don’t parade around a dressed-up dog as a hen and pray the fox is near-sighted.”
Knight scoffed. “That is why women avoidyou. Referring to them as animals.”
“We don’t know how deep the danger festers,” Maxen said. “Which is why she stays where I say.”
“Maxen.” His name on her tongue did something fierce to him. His whole body clenched. “Would you have selected your brother to take your place if I weren’t here?”
She stared at him. Calm, steady, stubborn as winter. The cap shadowed her cheekbones; a loose wisp of gold had escaped and brushed her jaw. Last night, his hands had fit there. Held, not claimed. A boundary he’d put on himself because touching her had already felt like standing at the edge of a cliff and choosing the drop.
He hesitated.
“Ha!” She narrowed in on him. “I’m right, aren’t I? So why are you doing this now? You are not scared, are you?”
He almost growled.
“Compromise,” Reaper offered, too damn cheerful. “Let her sit the first leg. We’ll do the switch later if we must. There are plenty of spots. Tom takes over for the last stretch. If our rats haven’t shown by then, they’re not biting at all.”
Knight’s voice was cool. “Too many pieces in play.”
“Pieces playing keep you alive,” Reaper said without care.
“Stop speaking nonsense.” Maxen’s fingers itched. Itched to clench. Itched to throttle.
