The man pulls a knife from his pocket, its dull blade glinting in the dim light. There’s always one guy who can’t handle me winning, who lets it push him over the edge.
“You lost me my last silvers! You’re gonna pay for that.”
He brandishes his knife toward me, but before he takes another step, I’m in motion. A sharp kick to his wrist and the knife slips from his grip. I catch it before he can blink, pressing the edge just under his Adam’s apple in one swift motion.
“What was the plan here, then? You were going to, what… confront the person who just won a brutal, well-attended fight with this pathetic little dinner knife? Shake me down with it, because I would obviously fear your extremely dangerous weapon that you’re so skilled at wielding?”
I press the knife harder into his throat and a thin red line of blood seeps out from under the blade. The man winces. The stench of urine hits me, and I realize he’s soiled himself. Pathetic.
“That’s what you get for betting against a woman. Get the fuck out of here. If I see your face at one of my fights again, I’ll finish the job.”
The man shoots me one last wild-eyed look and then turns and scurries back through the crowd. No one bothers giving him a second look. They’re too busy getting ready for the next fight in here.
“Fucking idiot,” Lee mutters under his breath. Then he grabs my hand in his large one and turns into the crowd, pulling me behind him toward a cluster of tables and chairs at the far end of the warehouse. We settle in and he quickly opens the rucksack he’s brought with him, pulling out an antiseptic cream and some bandages.
He pulls me toward him on my chair and then wraps his long fingers firmly around my chin while he dabs the cream onto my forehead, the heat from his touch warring with the sting of the ointment.
“Hold still, kitten,” he says, his stern voice brooking no argument. “This one’s kind of nasty.”
This has been our after-fight ritual, ever since he started coming to these a year ago. I get hurt; he fixes me. It like it more than I’d ever admit, having someone to take care of me.
We met in the market in the Northern Quarter. I’d been coming to pick Saela up from school when a spooked horse broke loose from its merchant. It was heading right for my little sister, and I was too far away to do anything about it. At that moment, I’d been sure that I was going to watch her die in front of my eyes, helpless.
And then Lee jumped in front of it, his hands held up in a calming motion, and the horse just… stopped. He calmed the animal down and saved my sister’s life in the process.
I went to thank him, and the moment our eyes met, I knew I would be his. It takes a special man to tame a wild thing.
“Did that worry you? The guy who just attacked me?” I ask. He’s been unusually quiet.
Lee’s gaze connects with mine, deep and unreadable. “I knew the Alleycat would hold her own. But I wish you’d end your fights faster. Injuries like this aren’t necessary. Someday, Meryn… someday, you might come up against someone who has outmaneuvered you. You might not even see it coming.”
He strokes a finger down my cheek, and I crawl into his lap, pulling him closer and closer. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. “For fixing me. For caring if I get hurt.”
Lee winds one of his hands into my dark hair, holding me in place as he crashes his lips down on mine. His other hand wraps around my back and he pulls me deeper into his lap, where I sense him hardening underneath me. I groan into his mouth at the feeling, and he pulls back, laying me bare with his look.
“Come back to my place tonight,” he says—a demand, not a question.
Lee has a small apartment to himself in the Northern Quarter, though as a castle messenger, he only lives there part time, often grabbing a few hours of sleep in the castle barracks between his duties. I’m there as frequently as I can be, but my mother’s condition and Saela’s care mean I don’t see him nearly as often as either of us would like.
I’m about to assent when a grave voice calls, “Meryn.”
I turn around, spotting Igor cutting quickly through the crowd toward us. He approaches, his expression tight, “Word’s spreading. Another child’s gone missing from Eastern.”
My stomach bottoms out as I quickly extract myself from Lee and stand to face Igor. “Description?”
“A girl. Ten or so. They said… they said she has dark hair and hazel eyes.”
No.
I shoot Lee a quick look, already thinking about the fastest route home.
“Go,” Lee says quickly, standing as well. “You have to.” I nod in agreement.
“Meryn,” Igor says, “it could be a hundred girls.”
But I don’t acknowledge him. I’m already shoving my way through the rowdy crowd, my heart pounding a frantic staccato beat. Wood bites into my palms as I shove open the exit to the warehouse, and then the always-frigid night air hits me like a punch. I left so quickly that I forgot to gather my things or put on my threadbare coat, but Igor will grab it, I’m sure.
Who needs a coat, anyway, when panic is setting your blood on fire?
