“It wouldn’t have mattered if they had.”
“You don’t know that!”
“No.” He folded his arms across his chest. “That’s true enough. But what difference does it make? The burden of responsibility lies with me, not with those who may or may not have cautioned me against my worser inclinations.”
Luna blew out a short breath. He could see her rolling his words around in her mind, her tender heart disagreeing with him utterly even while her mind struggled to come up with a logical rebuttal. She changed tack abruptly, saying, “What about his mother? She’ll be heartbroken.”
“He should have thought of her before committing to this foolishness.”
“Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Would you have thought of your mother? Before making the . . . the choices you made?”
It was an awful question. A dark, hideous, unfair question.
Nigel turned away from her, afraid his fury would make him say, do, or evenlookat her in a way he could never take back again. For some moments, he forced himself simply to breathe, to cool the heat of anger suddenly flaring in his head. “Having never enjoyed the comforts of a mother’s love,” he said at last, his voice careful and cold, “I find such speculation unutterably banal.”
Luna took a step toward him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but he felt the simmering tension, the desperation radiating from her soul. “So, because you didn’t have a mother to weep over you, you’re prepared to abandon this boy to his fate. Knowing perfectly well what will happen to him tonight.”
“Sooner or later, we all face the consequences of our own failures of character.” He turned his head sharply, catching her gaze. “Even you, Miss Talbot. Someday, even you.”
Her eyes sparked with fury and frustration, with hurt and . . . and was that betrayal he saw, simmering in those dark depths?
“Is that it then?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly around the words. “There’s nothing to be done. We just sit back and let him walk blindly to his death.”
Though every instinct told him to gentle his tone, to moderate the vehemence of his words, Nigel held fast to his conviction. “No good can come from interfering. I’m not foolish enough to compromise everything I’ve built here for one stupid youth. And I certainly won’t let you venture anywhere near the warehouse district on such a night.”
“Letme?” she echoed. And he heard how bad it sounded the moment she said it.
Nigel rolled his jaw, turning away from her again. It was the hardest battle of his life not to stride the three short paces necessary to close the distance between them, to wrap her in his arms and attempt to kiss away that angry knot that formed on her lovely mouth. Somehow he didn’t think this course of action would be appreciated just then. “You are a woman of far too much good sense to go embroiling yourself with sorcerers and their dealings,” he said instead. “Stay here. Comfort Mrs. Goddard. We’ll make her a tea and sit with her all night if we have to. But—”
“I’m not going to make her tea!” Luna threw up her hands. “Not when I coulddosomething to prevent this disaster!”
“Trust me, Miss Talbot, there’s nothing you can do to prevent whatever is happening down there tonight.”
“Oh, so we’re all just pawns in the games of sorcerers now, are we?”
“That’s not what I—”
She pivoted on heel and marched from the passage out into the shop. Growling with frustration, Nigel followed, then lingered in the doorway as he watched her stomp behind the counter to fetch her coat and hat. “Miss Talbot,” he said darkly, “don’t even think about it.”
“Ihavethought about it, Mr. Grimm.” She shrugged into her coat, flipping her hair over the collar. Her shooting star earrings wafted, wildly incongruous with the anger suffusing her features. “I’m going down there. I’ll have a quick look around and if I see someone who looks likely, I’ll breathe a word of warning. That’s all. I won’t go hunting for Tobias or anything, but maybe I can get a message to him somehow. It’s not that late yet, not even nine o’clock! Don’t these doings usually happen well after midnight? I’m sure it’s perfectly safe for some hours yet.”
Nigel watched slack-jawed as she set her hat firmly on her head and marched out from behind the counter, across the shop floor to the door. All the little flowers watched her go, then turned in perfect synchronization to shoot Nigel the same perplexed expression. He could almost hear them asking:Are you really going to just let her go?
“Miss Talbot!” He strode swiftly down the center aisle after her. “Wait!”
She unbolted the front door and pulled it open, but he was behind her then. Lunging with both hands on either side of her, he slammed the door shut again, sending all the bells ringing in wild alarm. She stood in the cage of his arms, her spine rigid, and he stared down at the back of her hat, his breath short and sharp.
“Don’t be a fool,” he growled. “Come back to the kitchen. Now.”
He heard her swallow, watched the way her head tilted back as she gave her chin a determined lift. Then she spun around, still framed by his arms, and glared up at him, her eyes nearly black with fury.
But his gaze dropped to her mouth. That soft, willing, eager mouth. That mouth which he had dreamed of tasting since the moment he first set eyes on her. One would have thought, having tasted it, the craving would abate somewhat. But no. She waslike a drug to his system; the more he indulged, the more he would crave until he was entirely undone and at her mercy. Even now, he knew, if she were to command him, if she were to order him to go with her to the warehouse district, he would do it. He shouldn’t. It was the worst possible move to make on a night like this, when wardsmen and sorcerers were about to converge. But he would do it even so.
She did not command him, however. Instead, she stared into his eyes, and her lip curled faintly. “Is that how it is?” she demanded, her sweet voice strangely rough. “Am I yours to command, Mr. Grimm? Do you decide what I do and where I go?” Her jaw tensed, a muscle in her throat constricting. “Do you think because we shared a kiss, that gives you the right to dictate my choices?”
