Io slammed him into the side of the carriage. I heard the man's breath leave him in a swiftoof, and then Io was hauling him forward again, holding the man's arm up by the wrist. I heard another crash and a whimper that turned into a scream, and I realized that Io was...holy shit!He was bending his arm backward over the carriage roof, breaking the bones in the wrong direction.
I lurched forward and reached for Io's arm, but he didn't react. I yanked, but he was immovable. I ducked under his arm and came up between him and the man, putting my hands on his chest and shoving as hard as I could.
He finally looked down at me. His eyes were dark, distant, wild.
"Stop it," I demanded. "You'll kill him."
I shoved again, and Io moved back, breathing harshly as he continued staring down at me. His eyes were an unreadable void that should have terrified me.
The man groaned as Io released his arm. I heard the sound of boots sliding through gravel and another pitiful whimper.
"He deserves to die," Io said, his hands coming to rest lightly on my shoulders.
"You don't decide that," I insisted as he gently coaxed me to the side, putting himself between me and the man, as though the sniveling, crying heap lying in the dirt might still pose some threat to me.
The man had the carriage door open and was struggling to climb in. When he finally managed to drag himself up, the driver snapped the reigns, and the carriage began to move before the door was even shut.
Io watched it roll away down the circular drive with his fists balled at his sides. A muscle in his jaw was twitching, and his perfect nostrils were flared.
When the carriage had disappeared down Antevemer Street, he turned to me again. His eyes were back to their normal darkness. Gone was the murderous rage, and in its place was wry amusement. "You're drunk, Sera."
I shrugged. "A little," I admitted, returning the grin that had begun to curve his beautiful lips.
"A lot," he pressed.
I shrugged again. "Maybe a lot."
He was so calm after nearly murdering a man—so seemingly casual after breaking his bones like they were matchsticks.
"Come on," he said, holding his hand out for mine.
The moment they met, I felt a shock, like a static crackle between us, but pleasant.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, my heart racing with excitement as he led me to another waiting carriage. When I ducked inside and took my seat, he climbed in after me and sat opposite.
Well, that was disappointing, I thought, wishing he'd sat next to me.
"What was disappointing, Sera?"
I laughed as I realized I'd said the words out loud. The clarity I'd gained from the excitement seemed to be gone, leaving me feeling quite drunk again.
When I didn't answer his question, he continued, "That man could have taken you anywhere—taken advantage of you."
My mouth felt suddenly dry as I watched his face shift back a little into that angry mask he'd worn.
"Is that what you're doing? Taking me somewhere to take advantage of me?" I teased. I wanted to take his thoughts away from the man and that fury I thought was only a hair's breadth away from killing him.
"That's not amusing."
"It's not?" I asked, leaning back in my seat and watching him.
"Tell me where you live so I can take you home, Sera."
"Oh, I can't go home."
"Of course you can't," he said with an exaggerated sigh.
I laughed at his expression, but then I caught him watching my fingers. I realized I had been toying with the edge of the lace on the bodice of my gown. I let them trail suggestively across my skin, moving slowly, dipping below the edge of the lace, trying to look oblivious to what my fingers were doing.
