Run!
But her feet couldn’t move. Could she just leave Mr. Rollings to his fate?
“What do you want to do with him?” The furious one asked the silent one.
A beat of silence, then, “Deal with him.”
Calliope shivered at the low, gravelly voice that carried over to her. Like he hadn’t used it in years, or only ever used it to growl threats. Calm. Deadly. Final. The impact lashed across her nerves and lodged beneath her breastbone, driving in deep.
Even worse, she felt marked by it.
Hewas the leader here. His words were law.
The furious one stepped forward and a fist shot out. Mr. Rollingsdropped to the ground, the bone-jarring echo joining that of her gasp.
Her hands flew to cover her mouth as two heads swiveled her way.
Sensation deserted her limbs.
The man who’d watched Mr. Rollings being knocked senseless, the one with the deeper voice, stepped forward. “Who’s there? Show yourself. Obedience begets lenience, resistance begets wrath.”
Like you showed Mr. Rollings?Not in this lifetime!
Her body snapped into motion, and she bolted in the direction—she hoped—of her shop, only to snag on her own steps and pitch forward. Then to her horror, she promptly tripped over her feet, crashing to the ground hard. The impact jarred her bones, a lowoofescaping when her palms scraped over loose stones, biting through leather gloves.
Calliope! You foot-clod!
She scurried back to her feet, snatched up the satchel that had landed beside her, and dashed down the alley with all her might, ignoring her aching knees.
Curses ripped through the dark.
Donotlook back.
She clenched her jaw and pushed on.
Who were these men? She hadn’t been in Brighton long. Almost three months in total. The first two were spent in small, rented lodgings, planning and preparing every detail of her new life. The past fortnight had at last seen her open the doors to her shop, above which she now lived. Before that, it had taken years of whispered schemes and secret hopes to reach this point—to flee Duvessa and her despicable plan to wed her to the loathsome Lord Flemmington. Calliope had learned the hard way that people don’t rescue girls like her. If they,she, wanted freedom, she’d have to claim it for herself.
Only with the secret help of a few loyal servants and the ever-resourceful Mr. Fitz had she managed to escape and begin anew in thisseaside town.
Now her lungs burned.
Why did she decide on Brighton again?
There were other, more remote towns Duvessa avoided with a passion, too.Just admit it, Calliope. You wanted to live near the ocean.And since she never debuted, and rarely met others, she didn’t need to worry that she’d be recognized. Even her own family had abandoned her to Duvessa since her father’s death. Some she hadn’t seen since her mother’s.
A quiet life.
A comfortable life.
Hidden away and free from Duvessa and her horrid stepsisters.
Notdashing through the misty, dark streets from brigands who might harm her if she were caught! Fortunately, she had already regained her sense of direction, and didn’t dare slow until she reached her shop. She nervously glanced over her shoulder while she fished for the key and jammed it into the lock with trembling hands.
Come on!
The key rattled as she attempted to unlock the door, joined by voices echoing somewhere through the streets, followed by approaching footsteps growing closer.
The beat of her heart sped up.
