Page 17 of The Hood and his Thief

It appeared they weren’t home.

Rhosyn sighed, turning towards the rear of the house where the kitchens would be, along with the possibility of hot tea and Gregor’s round smile. She should probably go try to get a good night’s sleep, but she wasn’t willing to leave just yet. This house brought her more of a feeling of home than the barren bedroom in the middle city.

Hand reaching for the doorknob that would lead her into the kitchen, Rhosyn froze, ears pricked at a sudden noise. It had sounded like a groan, and Rhosyn hesitated to burst into the kitchen. While it wouldn’t be the first time she had accidentally barged in on the Woodrows in a compromising position, Contessa was still enough of a lady to be mortified every time.

It came again—a breathy moan in a voice Rhosyn recognized. She smiled and grabbed the doorknob.

“Kristoff, stop defiling Gregor,” she shouted.

From the other side of the door came a scuffling and a deep chuckle, along with a quieter, more embarrassed-sounding groan, then the door sprung open.

“How do you know he wasn’t defiling me?” Kristoff asked by way of greeting.

Rhosyn raised a brow as she stepped past him into the kitchen.

“Maybe nobody was defiling anybody,” Gregor remarked in a deceptively even tone from where he stood at the wooden table, chopping potatoes as if he had always been doing so, but a blooming bruise just below his ear gave him away.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rhosyn teased, bumping Gregor with her hip on her way past him.

“Would you like some tea?” he deflected.

Rhosyn nodded as she perched on the wide windowsill at the back of the room swinging her legs. “Thank you. I’d be glad to have the walk over not be for nothing, since it appears Contessa and Nate aren’t home.”

“I’m afraid they haven’t made it home for dinner yet this week,” Gregor admitted as he lifted the kettle onto the stove. “If you need something though, I can give them a message.”

Rhosyn shook her head. “I don’t need to worry them if they’re already that busy. The Royal Police are working on it after all.”

“But?” Kristoff folded his arms as he leaned one hip against the table in the center of the room, his deep blue eyes sharp.

Rhosyn cocked her head. “But, what?”

“But obviously you’re still worried if you came.”

Rhosyn’s boot heels thumped against the wall behind her as she considered Kristoff. His dark hair managed to look perfectly disheveled from Gregor’s hands, and whirls of black ink covered his forearms where he had pushed his shirtsleeves up. Every inch of him still screamed rogue, despite the fact that most of the jobs he ran these days were on behalf of the crown. After all, Nate and Contessa worried about the specifics of how Kristoff executed his missions, while King Byron remained glad to benefit from having an inside source in the underbelly of the city.

A lick of envy flared in Rhosyn’s heart, and she moved to quash it quickly.

When the Lions had ceased to be a street gang and Rhosyn had considered her future, Kristoff had been the first to encourage her to train for the Royal Police. He knew she craved a purpose and action, and he convinced her this was her chance to go straight—to live the life she might have had if not for the Inquiries. When she asked him why he didn’t join the Police too, he ruffled her already messy hair and told her he was far too much of a troublemaker to ever wear a uniform.

Now she wondered if the same couldn’t be said about her.

“It’s Paul and Olivia,” Rhosyn admitted. “They’re missing.”

“And you’re investigating it with the Royal Police?”

Rhosyn shook her head. “There are officers on it, and Joseph wants me to stay in on a case in the lower city. But…”

“But Lions protect their pack.” It was Gregor who finished for Rhosyn in a decisive tone.

“I just worry about doing off-the-books investigating when Joseph is trying so hard to keep the Royal Police spotless,” Rhosyn pointed out.

“Isn’t blindly following orders what got the force into such a mess in the first place?” Kristoff asked.

Rhosyn folded her arms. “Only because the Chief was the one doing illegal things.”

“Still, I think that’s enough evidence that the spirit of the law is more important than the letter of it.”

“I’m not sure it would be above board for a Royal Police officer to concede that point.” Rhosyn frowned.