Within minutes, she had cleaned the worst of the blood from his face. As he showed no tolerance for their tending elsewhere, she didn’t venture further.
Her gaze flicked to Drake. “Your lip is cut.”
“I’ve had worse.”
Maxen stood and crossed to him, reaching up to grip his brother’s chin before Drake could stop him.
“It won’t scar,” he said firmly.
Calliope’s gaze dropped to the scar splitting Maxen’s lip. Had his injury come about the same way—just another day in the life of a Fury? She couldn’t look away.
Drake pushed his hand aside. “It’s nothing. More concerning is that the men who trailed our brother dearest had the same shaved heads as the one who broke into your Miss Turner’s shop.”
Shocked, Calliope shot to her feet. “What does this have to do with me?”
“It seems,” Drake said. “That whoever is behind these assaults has taken an interest in my brother’s interest in you.”
Well, that sounded ominous.
Serpent hissed as he drew himself upright. “We’re being provoked. Someone’s testing our reach. Seeing how far we’ll go. How far they can go.”
Stars, this truly was the stuff of criminals!
Maxen scowled. “Power. They want to topple ours and seize their own.”
“Did Peregrine say anything to you last night when he escorted you to the inn?” Maxen asked her.
Peregrine? Did they suspect him? “No. Does he have something to do with this?”
“Uncertain,” Maxen said.
Calliope let out a slow breath. This all had been rather unexpected. “I think I shall retire to my room if you could point the way.” Better to grant them space. Serpent’s other wound would need tending, and she doubted he would allow it in her presence.
Maxen nodded, escorting her from the room. “Thank you.”
She glanced up at him. “You’re welcome.”
Behind them, Serpent groaned again. “If you’re going to start kissing,warn me first.”
Maxen scowled at his brother before leading her and Prince away. And for the first time since she’d set foot in Brighton, Calliope didn’t feel like she was running anymore.
How long would it last?
*
Once Maxen hadseen Calliope and her hound to her room, he stalked back down the corridor toward his brother’s chamber.
He wanted to kiss her.
That inappropriate thought landed like an even more inappropriate brand in his skull. The impression simply wouldn’t be removed. He had never wanted to kiss anyone the way he wanted to kiss her. The way she’d helped clean his brother’s face without flinching, how could he damn well not?
He sneered at himself. Him. Wanting to kiss a woman because she’d scrubbed gore from his brother’s face? No doubt he was losing what little sense he had left. Most men were attracted to the flirtatious shenanigans of women. Him? He was apparently aroused by competence and the stench of iron. Charming.
His lip curled higher.
A kiss. As if he could be trusted with something so simple. He’d ruin her. And still—curse and damn it all—he wanted. He wanted until want clawed at him like starvation. Was it lunacy to want to stick to her side? Undoubtedly. Fortunately, his brother’s state took precedence, sparing him a test he was bound to fail. When he returned, Serpent was half-dozing while Drake worked over him, binding a cut that slashed across a chest already ruined by old burns.
“You can go,” Drake said without breaking focus. “I’ll stay withhim.”
