“I have no use for your money, Miss Archer.” Bowen didn’t move either, and the detective rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, realizing our negotiation was going to take place in the lobby.
Bowen folded his arms over his chest and towered over me. “They stole a weapon from me, and it’s a weapon I want in return.”
I mimicked his pose and smiled sweetly. “I’m sure Detective Chambers will gladly return the weapon found in the carriage. You’ve lost nothing, sir.”
He stalked closer, daring me to retreat. “I’ve already lost a great deal. Time, money…” He took another step as he muttered the last word under his breath. It sounded like “sanity,” but I couldn’t be sure. His gaze raked from the top of my head to my toes. “I hear you’re a skilled weaponsmith, and I’m also aware of your unique abilities regarding magic. Are you willing to bargain for your father’s release? Are you willing to take his place?”
He knows about my gift?My mind raced, but I was less worried about his knowledge of my skill and more by his question. A flash of panic rose inside my chest, and I choked on my reply.
“You mean, take his place in prison?”
Bowen chuckled. “No, Miss Archer, though some would say living with me is worse than prison. You’ll have to tell me if they’re right.”
The crook of his lips sent my temper flaring. “Live with you? What kind of bargain is this?” I jabbed my finger into his chest, almost wishing it were my dagger instead. He wouldn’t think he could walk all over me then.
“Miss Archer,” Detective Chambers said, trying to diffuse the situation. Everyone in the waiting room had stopped to stare, and the clerk leaned forward over her desk in rapt interest. “What Lord MacKenzie is suggesting—poorly, I might add—is a term of indentured servitude.” His gaze darkened on Bowen, and there was censure in his tone. “The terms state you’ll live at MacKenzie Manor until you’ve completed a commissioned weapon for his collection. It’s unorthodox, but not unheard of. If you accept the terms, you’ll be considered an employee, nothing more. Isn’t that right, MacKenzie?”
“Correct, Detective. Miss Archer will be free to go when she’s finished with her work.”
I leaned in, anger making me bold. My voice dropped to a whisper. “And what makes you think I won’t create the weapon and use it against you?”
To my frustration, a gleam of admiration appeared in his eyes. “A few have tried, Miss Archer, evidenced by the scars on my skin. But it will take more than that to kill me.” He lowered his head, warm breath skating over my ear. “Are you willing to give it a go?”
Trapped.
I’d marveled earlier at how he hadn’t made me feel that way, but the snare had tightened, and now I was truly caught. Sure, I could turn him down and return home without Thomas, but I couldn’t do that to Sarah. To either of them. After everything they’d done for me, this sacrifice paled in comparison.
“You’ll release my father and Mr. Edwin?”
Bowen nodded. “As you keep insisting.”
A shaky feeling of alarm rushed through my body, and I tried to tamp it down, resigning myself to the bargain. Bowen must have sensed my surrender because he grinned—an act that twisted his scars. A grin like his was meant to intimidate. He knew the effect it had, but he didn’t know I’d seen worse and had spent the past few years hardening my defenses.
But defenses weren’t only made of wood and steel. Sometimes, they hid in the way we responded to threats. Better to act accordingly and let him think he’d won.
His grin widened, and I pretended to flinch beneath it, only to watch his smile dim. Something like regret flashed across his features, and he lifted his hand as if he meant to brush away the fear he’d incited.
He had a vulnerability. The realization popped into my head without warning. He’d shown the tiniest crack in an armor he thought impenetrable. I could exploit that. Maybe use it to my advantage. Either way, I planned to see this through.
I held out my hand. “Fine, Lord MacKenzie. You have a deal.”
Chapter 5
Bowen
My hand closed over hers to seal the agreement. It was small and fine-boned. However, there were calluses where smooth skin should be—proof of her skilled profession. There was even a thin scar at the base of her thumb, and I wondered how she’d received it.
She wore a floor-length leather cloak tied underneath her chin and a navy blue dress laced over a darker-hued bodice. Long blonde hair hung in silken waves down her back, and glossy strands curled over her shoulders. There was a jittery nervousness about her that switched into fierceness in an instant. A strange mixture of emotions in a woman who barely reached my shoulders.
My grip tightened around her fingers. Maybe if she hadn’t come, I could have let this entire thing go. I had more than enough problems without adding one of my own making. But it was too late. She was here, and the trap had been set.
The victory tasted sweet. So sweet I wasn’t able to control the gruesome smile that spread across my lips. The same smile that caused Charles Edwin to nearly collapse in fear. A smile I usually wielded as a weapon. But that was the thing about weapons: they drew blood no matter the target, and when Liana shrank beneath mine, I regretted the act.
Yet an odd thing happened next. Her eyes flicked up for the barest of seconds, as if she were calculating my reaction, and I wondered if my smile had drawn blood at all, or if maybe she was wielding a weapon of her own.
A scoff burst from my throat. This slip of a woman had threatened to forge a weapon and use it against me. It was unbelievable. There hadn’t been fear in her eyes then. Loathing more than anything, but also a deep well of stubbornness. So unlike everyone else. She wasn’t typical at all, and if I had any sense, I’d watch my back.
“I’d like to see my father before we go, if that’s possible,” she said, removing her hand from mine and turning her attention to Detective Chambers.
