Page 27 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

A giant waste of time and energy.

He couldn’t even say the sex was good enough to make up for the lost opportunity and the added trouble of now being locked in jail. Not one bit of tonight’s debacle had gotten him one step closer to finding his sister, and time was running out.

Lirion paced over to the slightly rusted bars of the too-small cell, trying hard not to notice the filth on the floors, the scurry of small furry rodents along the walls, or the oppressive smell of sweat and shit that permeated the air. It felt safe to say the members of the town watch hadn’t bothered to clean this cell or the others in a very long time.

Thankfully, only a couple of oil lamps burned in the corridor. The overall room was relatively small, with just enough space for three narrow cells. There were more dancing shadows than light, which helped to somewhat hide the squalor they were currently in.

Naturally, this wasn’t his first time in jail, and it definitely wouldn’t be his last. His only problem was that he didn’t have time to waste on this nonsense.

Lirion paced away from the bars, inspecting his companion out of the corner of his eye while still trying to ignore him. The thief wasn’t bad looking, and it clearly wasn’t his first time in a jail cell, judging by the way he lounged against the wall on the single long plank that served as their lone place of rest. Well, there was a pile of straw and a filthy blanket tossed in one corner, but he was sure it was a breeding ground for diseases and lice. No, thank you.

Turning away from the thief, Lirion paced to the bars yet again, replaying the night in his head. His meeting with Ursula Cartwright was supposed to have been a relatively quick and easy thing. She had information he needed and was willing to trade it for sex. In Lirion’s opinion, he was getting off cheap in this deal. The woman had even managed to get herself alone in the house for several hours. It should have gone smoothly.

But it was just his luck a thief had also noticed the master of the house was gone for the night. Perfect time to strike.

Not that he’d gotten off any better. The poor asshole had walked away with nothing in his pockets and still ended up in jail for his troubles.

“Sorry.”

Lirion stiffened as the thief’s pleasantly rough voice seemed to caress his ears. Oh, that was just mean. He was a cute thief and he had a sexy voice. The combination really was hitting below the belt, and such tactics were usually more Lirion’s territory.

“I beg your pardon,” Lirion said, turning away from the bars to face the only other person in the cell.

The man dragged in a deep breath. “Sorry. Really. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be in that room.” Despite his words, he sounded quite put out, as if it wasn’t entirely his fault they were both sitting in a cell.

“Yeah, I caught that when we ran into each other.”

He made another sound, this one halfway between a laugh and a groan. “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the house at all other than the cook, who I got sauced on that bottle of booze before I even arrived. Fuck, bottle cost me five coppers, too.”

Lirion had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. It sounded like he’d not only come up empty-handed and gotten caught, but this little escapade had actually cost him money. Was it wrong that Lirion was softening just the tiniest bit because the thief sounded more than a little annoyed and put out? Lirion wasn’t petty.

Noooooo. Not at all.

Pushing away from the bars, Lirion crossed the cell and dropped onto the wooden plank, which creaked ominously under his weight but otherwise held. He propped his shoulder up against the wall as he turned slightly, sitting cockeye so he could see the man better. “Your face looks familiar to me for some reason.”

“I do have wanted posters, although some artists are better than others.” His smile was rueful around the edges. “I’m Fenric.”

“Lirion. A pleasure. Professional thief?”

“Among other talents.”

“Mmm, I bet you have many talents,” Lirion couldn’t resist purring.

He quirked a scarred brow. “You?”

“Talents? Oh, I have plenty. Some of them quite unspeakable.”

Fenric rolled his eyes, his expression screaming annoyance, but there was something in the quirk of his lips that made Lirion think he might also be fighting a smile. One of Lirion’s many talents—he could disarm just about anyone with a few flirty words and a smile. This one was trying to play hard to get.

“And it looked like you were plying more than a few of them with Mrs. Cartwright, but I was asking about your trade.”

“Ah. Bard by trade.”

Fenric snorted and looked away, turning to stare out the bars.

“What’s your reaction mean?” Lirion demanded, unable to keep some bite from his tone.

“Only that I’ve met your type before. It explains a lot.”