Page 69 of When the Sky Breaks

The threat hung in the air for a long moment. Somewhere outside people were laughing, even though it was barely dawn. Far away the sound of a portal opening and closing split the air. A wagon rumbled by.

And then the monocled man chuckled. He threw his head back, laughter building until it was nearly hysterical.

“You think you’re so scary?” he said, tears coming into his eyes as his cheeks grew red from mocking us.

And that was it. Clearly, Sorcha had had enough.

Because she punched him, square in the nose. His monocle shattered under her fist, glass scattering on the floor. His head snapped back, blood pouring onto the front of his starched white shirt.

For half a second the room was entirely still. And then Ansel turned, grabbed Sorcha by the front of her dress and stormed out, dragging her behind him until he slammed her back into the dividing wall as I hurried after, hand already twitching toward my revolver.

“What the hell was that?” Ansel hissed.

The composure was gone. The facade he’d put up to interrogate our prisoner? Vanished. He was angry now—burning, terrifying, furious. And he had my tiny, pregnant wife—who also happened to be our damn sovereign—backed against a wall with a death grip on the front of her dress. I’d known Ansel for close to two dozen years now, almost as long as Sorcha had been alive. And he was good. He was loyal. But he was also disturbingly single-minded on the job—legendarily so. I’d never considered how that might be a detriment. And I really didn’t want to have to shoot him.

“You couldn’t just let me do my job?” Ansel demanded, glaring at her like a cat sizing up a mouse, eyes wide, focused, dangerous. “You know what? I think Iksura might be onto something.”

Ansel agreeing with Iksura. I never thought I’d hear those words. But he kept going. “You clearly aren’t ready to take on the Court yourself. Obviously too young. Obviously too inexperienced. Should’ve just let her find you a husband to run it for you.”

“Ansel, that’s enough,” I finally snapped. Sorcha’s face was going pale, the rise and fall of her chest ragged. She choked back a sob. Ansel still gripped the front of her dress, glaring like he wanted her dead. My hand closed around my pistol.

“Because that temper? That inexperience?” Ansel kept going, ignoring me, pushing her back into the wall. “That could have just cost us our asset!”

He was shouting now.

“Ansel, let go of her,” I said.

Ansel stopped talking. Froze. Then startled like he was being brought out of a trance. He slowly turned to look at me.

“I said let go of her,” I repeated. “You’ve forgotten your place. And I really don’t want to ask you again.”

Ansel dropped her, and Sorcha stumbled before regaining her balance.

“You teach her how to punch like that?” Ansel asked.

“It seemed like a reasonable idea at the time.”

Ansel stalked back to our prisoner and slammed the door behind him.

Twenty-Six

Neal

“Are you hurt?” I asked, running hands down Sorcha’s arms and over her belly. “Did he hurt you at all?”

She seemed fine—thank goodness—and she shook her head.

“I’m okay,” she said. I could tell in an instant that was a lie.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, grabbing her right hand. The knuckles were split open, a splinter of glass embedded between her first two fingers.

“I can’t even feel it,” Sorcha murmured, staring wide-eyed at the blood dripping from her hand.

“That’s called shock.” I looked around, searching the shop for something, anything clean to use to help her. There was a basin of water nearly black with grease, a few towels caked with filth I didn’t want to try and name. So I pulled my handkerchief from Sorcha’s pocket and used it to carefully pull the sliver of glass from between her knuckles. I grabbed a flask from Ansel’s discarded topcoat and doused her hand in whiskey. She hissed at the contact. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmured an apology, then used my already-bloodied handkerchief to bind up her hand as best I could.

“You’ve never hit anyone before,” I said as I tied off the handkerchief.

“I’ve hit you,” Sorcha offered.