Page 149 of Tempest

Cat wanted to flip the chipped silver back at him, or perhaps throw her glass at his idiotic golden head.

“I’ve heard many foolish things from your mouth, but none so foolish as that.” Her brow furrowed, the same old frustration making her toes curl. “You have lost, Valerian. We—”

He cut her off with a blazing look. “Don’t pretend to be part of something you never believed in.”

“Fine,” she sniffed, handing two cards to Vex without so much as a glance. “I won’t waste my breath explaining what you already know or repeating what I’ve already said.”

I’ve read this page before, Cat thought bitterly, remembering another table in another room. How he laughed at her worries, dismissing her warnings outright. Something broke in her then, and it still stung now. She tried not to think of it, the edges of a wound that refused to heal.

“Good,” Valerian snapped, returning to his cards.

Vex leaned sideways, his attempt at a whisper rough and not at all quiet. “You finished with the Prince of Merchants?”

Cat’s eyes flared wide, darting between the two of them, and Valerian perceived her attention. He pursed his lips and gave Vex a sharp shake of his head. His message was clear.

Not now.

But Cat understood enough. The Prince of Merchants. Goa. Smiling in an alleyway with Vex’s crew just that morning. Before heading off to meet with Valerian, no doubt.

To tell him of my presence in the city, she thought, cursing herself for her own stupidity.

And what else?

The Prince of Merchants could procure or fence anything—was Valerian buying or selling? She could only guess, trying to keep too many threads from tangling in her head.

“Captain, I’m told you have a naval officer in your charge,” Valerian said sharply, changing the subject with the grace of a lame horse.

Cat knew when to keep her mouth shut. She dropped her eyes to study her cards. Captain Fell was far from her concern, but he could certainly still be her problem. Valerian had not killed her on the spot, and she did not want to give him cause to change his mind.

Vex sighed at his cards, clearly holding a poor hand.

“Indeed, we have him,” he answered, before fixing Valerian with a stern look that spoke volumes. “But I venture we’re done with ransoms, these days.”

The captain nodded grimly. “We certainly are.”

Then be done with it and kill him. Again, Cat flinched at the thought—but not enough to change her mind. She eyed her cards again. Better to focus on something other than the thought of Jasper Fell drawn and quartered like Harry Morovant.

His head or mine.

“Tell me, how fares our old friend Jasper Fell?”

She jerked back up to find Valerian waving for another cigar and a light. Both appeared quickly, a barmaid leaning a little too far with a candle. Valerian basked in the attention, as he always did, his eyes trailing down her neck as he grinned.

Seething, she glared back, watching as he held the barmaid’s wrist, one finger tracing the veins beneath her palm. Cat neatly ignored the itch on her skin in the same place.

“As difficult as ever,” she replied, tone even.

With a puff of smoke, Valerian released the barmaid, who flushed and smiled before leaving the table.

“And still trailing you like a lost dog,” he sneered into his taquil.

Her head spun, the cloud of smoke and taquil fumes threatening to pull her under.

“Like a hound,” she forced out, trying to get her bearings. Inwardly, Cat cursed the alcohol already running through her veins. I should have never had a sip. I should have stayed in my room. I am a fool. “I’m lucky Vex’s men took him into custody, lest he drag me back to Archenport by my hair.”

Valerian rested his elbow on the table. “Is that it?”

She knew the look he wore. Smug, self-assured. Victorious. Many a ship had fallen to such a look, swallowed up by the ambitions of Valerian Kane.