“Then why?”
“Because you asked. All you ever have to do is ask.”
Chapter 15
Bowen
Fingers snapped in front of my face, and I blinked. Gavin’s familiar features came into focus.
How disappointing.
I massaged my temples, trying to recall what we were talking about before I wound up staring into space, replaying the night before for the hundredth time. How was I expected to concentrate on anything when my mind kept remembering in vivid detail the way Liana had felt pressed against my body? Or the way her mouth had fit against mine?
It was damn near impossible to hold a normal conversation.
Gavin snorted and scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth, speaking between bites. “Are you crazy? You’re hunting witches now?”
Oh, yeah, that’s right. Witch-hunting.
He shook his head, chasing his meal with a glass of juice. “Do you hear yourself? Who says something like that at the breakfast table? It’s not even a decent hour.” He scraped his plate, the fork tines clinking against the porcelain.
I picked up the knife resting on my napkin. Gavin paused mid-scrape and eyed the serrated edge, aware of the fact my plate was empty and uses for the sharp utensil had dropped to one.
“Remind me again who lets a young woman traipse around the market district alone, putting her in a position to get mugged and thrown into jail?”
Gavin punctured the air with his fork. “Liana stabbed someone. Sure, the thief had it coming, but I maintain the jail part was on her. Besides,”—he poured himself another glass of juice—“I’d say it all worked out in your favor. You got the girl, didn’t you? Though now you’re talking nonsense about hunting witches, I’m having regrets about cheering you on. Regrets, Bowen! And you know I have my fair share of those.” His gaze dropped to a single link of sausage remaining on his plate. Carefully, he reached out to pluck the knife from my fingers and began cutting the sausage into smaller chunks. “You weren’t really going to use this on me, were you? After everything we’ve been through. All I’ve sacrificed.”
It was my turn to snort. “Sacrificed? You live here rent-free, eat my food, drink my liquor—and you meddle.”
Gavin conceded, nodding his head at each of my points. “Meddling is one of my numerous talents. I’ll have you know, our dagger-wielding friend has been quite put out every time I showed up in her workshop when she was expecting you. Not that I relish a woman’s disappointment at seeing my face. It certainly has never happened before, but I admit, I’ve started doing it on purpose.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I stole a pair of your shoes once and tried matching your hulking gate. I even wore one of your coats. Fooled her good that time.”
“You have too much time on your hands.” I scratched the back of my neck, oddly flattered by the thought Liana might have been hoping to see me. Not that I would admit it to Gavin. “I’m sure her disappointment had more to do with enduring your dreary personality than the lack of my presence.”
“You’re talking nonsense again. Nothing about me is dreary.” He rose from his chair and attacked the sideboard, refilling his plate with second helpings.
I eyed the door to the dining room, wondering how much longer I should wait. Was she coming down to breakfast?
Last night was a revelation in more ways than one. I may never be able to heal the scars on my face, but I could help the scars of her past fade. There was so much evil in the world and no end to how it altered people’s lives.
Who would she be without the guilt, the anger, and ultimately, the fear that ruled her life? Would she still face each day with bravery? Hide her fighting skills behind a coy smile, taking pride in the fact most people underestimated her? Her past had shaped her into the woman she was today, and the devil in me was grateful.
My past had a stranglehold around my neck, but for the first time, I wondered if it had shaped me in a way I didn’t expect. What if it had molded me not into a bitter man driven for revenge, but into a man destined to rise from the ashes for the sake of another?
Gavin must have read my thoughts. He folded his arms across his chest, and his eternal grin vanished from his features.
“Since you’ve decided to go all witch-hunter on me, what are you going to do about Argus and the Grimm’s blade? Don’t tell me your lust for revenge is waning because of a girl. I won’t be able to keep my eggs down.”
“If you lose your breakfast, it’s because of your hangover this morning, not because of my actions. Besides, if I remember correctly, your situation isn’t that different from mine. How does the saying go—pot meet kettle?”
Gavin’s smile returned, but now, it was dry and brittle. “We aren’t talking about my vices. And we certainly aren’t talking about my past.” He eyed the knife in his hand—the one I used as a mild threat. I’d pushed him too far. It was one thing to joke about his self-destructive habits, and entirely another to mention her—the woman who’d vanished into the sea.
My palms lifted in defense. “Fine. Back to your question. The Grimm’s blade is safe for now. Argus will come for it, and I’ll do what needs to be done. It’s too late to turn back now.”
Gavin rubbed a hand over his face and pushed aside his plate. Silence fell between us as we each wallowed in our thoughts. It wasn’t until we heard commotion in the hallway that we both looked up.
Brutus barked, and his nails clicked across the floor as he neared the dining room. Jacob’s awed voice echoed down the hall.
“Did you really thrash three street thugs all by yourself, Miss Archer?”
