And inthatspace.
He didn’t want any vermin sniffing around there.
“That’s unfortunate for her. I mean it, Peregrine. Test me if you want to lose a limb.”
“Honestly, Fury, why so sensitive? I accidentally burned down your brothel two years ago. Get over it.”
“It was a tavern, not a brothel,” Maxen bit out. “And it justhappenedto go up in flames the same night one of my warehouses was robbed. I’ve looked into your affairs. That wasn’t the first time things mysteriously burned down around you.” There was also still the matter of his current shipment.
“Nothing mysterious about it,” Peregrine replied with a shrug. “I compensated you fully, didn’t I?”
“I lost ten times what you paid me.” Not to mention crates and crates of black tea and silks. “I don’t tolerate loss, so I don’t tolerate you.” He nodded to the building on his right, and Dagger stepped from the shadows, his long black coat parting just enough to reveal the outline of daggers lining the inside. Then, he lifted his chin to one of the rooftops, and Reaper’s silhouette moved into view, signature coin flipping between his fingers. Drake must have slipped off to tend other matters. “I’d clear out, if I were you. That is, if you still wish to keep all your limbs attached to your body.”
Peregrine’s smile faded, his gaze flicking between the brothers, jaw clenching. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, forcing a smile. “I’m off. No need to puff yourself up, Fury.”
Maxen watched the blackguard stride away, whistling as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Instinct warned him that this wasn’t the endof it. No, Peregrine, as was evident by his damnable presence, was the type to reappear.
Dagger walked over. “You think he’s going to be a problem?”
“Yes, though I’m not yet sure how big of one.”
“The shipment.”
Maxen nodded. “His appearance is too convenient. Find out when he arrived in town and whether it coincides with our crates being stolen. Also,” he glanced back at The Whispering Wick, “see if there’s any connection between him and my tenant.”
God help them both if there were.
“You still suspect she’s a spy?”
“She’s hiding something.” And he didn’t like it. “Mysteries rarely bode well for us.”
“Then it’s unfortunate she’s a woman. Their secrets and mysteries run deep.”
“I don’t care how bloody deep they run, so long as they don’t interfere with my business.” Maxen gritted his teeth and shot his brother a look. “Which is already a moot point, seeing as you rented her this particular space.”
“Do you know how many properties we have? I thought you moved the barrels of gunpowder next door.”
“That one connects to the tunnels,” Maxen bit out.
Dagger gave a slight shrug. “It was dark, and I was half in my cups. I can barely get your tunnels straight when I’m sober.”
Maxen curled his lip but said nothing. It didn’t matter. The barrels were safely hidden, so the chances of her finding them were slim. However, their access to them would be blocked for the duration of her lease. Until then, all he had to do was steer clear of the sweet-smelling Calliope Turner yet keep an eye on her at the same time.
As easy as snatching sweets from a babe.
He would know.
They’d been snatched from him more times than he could count.
Chapter Four
The following afternoon
The bell abovethe inn door gave a prim jangle as Calliope stepped onto the street after posting her letter, relieved it was no longer burning a hole in her reticule. She’d half expected her landlord to leap from the shadows, seize her belongings, and discover the truth.
He hadn’t, thank the sun and stars.
And posting news to Mr. Fitz had been easy enough.
