Page 30 of The Hood and his Thief

Rhosyn looked pointedly down at her ankles where they were bound to the chair. “It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere.”

Paul, Olivia, and Ansel all grimaced in unison.

“Sorry,” Paul mumbled under his breath.

“I would prefer not to have you bound at all times,” Ansel admitted. “But your fists have already cost me my juggler for tonight’s show. If my performers keep getting mysteriously injured, people might start asking questions.”

“I suppose promising to be on my best behavior doesn’t mean much at this point.” Rhosyn tried to look contrite, but it wasn’t an expression that came to her naturally.

Ansel shook his head. “How do I know you won’t run off and tell your Chief all you just learned about our little operation?”

Rhosyn chewed her lip to keep herself from spitting back that he didn’t. After all, she should do just as he said. The Foxes had done more than break the Talented siblings free. They had broken into the palace—Contessa’s own office—and stolen a small fortune in jewelry from several upper city families.

A good police officer wouldn’t hesitate to put the entirety of Archer’s Circus behind bars. But the fear that Rhosyn had pushed aside for too long reared its head and couldn’t be pushed down this time.

Maybe she wasn’t a good police officer.

She desperately wanted to be—wanted to claim that she lived fully on the right side of the law and had reclaimed the life she might have had if she hadn’t chosen to throw her lot in with the Lion’s after she aged out of the Den. After all, Chief Thorne worked tirelessly to turn the police around and make them the protectors they were always meant to be. Rhosyn had never wanted to do anything but help the people of London, and joining his new force had seemed like the best way.

But the dirt of the lower city had rubbed its way under her skin.

Rhosyn closed her eyes, steeling herself. She picked her next words carefully. “If I’m being held hostage, I can’t very well tell the Royal Police where Olivia and Paul were. It would be a shame if I weren’t to escape until after they had left London. Then, they’d be outside our jurisdiction and the Royal Police would be unable to see that they were returned home safely.”

Ansel cocked his head, his green eyes inscrutable. Paul and Olivia, on the other hand, slumped in relief.

“Thank you,” Olivia breathed emphatically.

Their gratitude twisted her gut with guilt even as it lightened her heart.

The Lions protected their own.

A knife sprang into Ansel’s hand, having been hidden somewhere beneath his sleeves. The thin lamplight in the small room reflected off a blade sharp enough to make Nate proud. Ansel knelt before Rhosyn’s chair and gave her a long look.

Her throat felt tight as she swallowed with difficulty and nodded. She would not run. She told herself that this was a compromise—a necessary evil. Rhosyn hadn’t promised Ansel that she wouldn’t get the Foxes arrested for their crimes. She had only suggested that she wouldn’t be doing so until after Paul and Olivia were far away.

A dull snick and the ropes around Rhosyn’s calves loosened, sliced cleanly through by Ansel’s blade. She flexed her legs and rolled her ankles as he stood and rounded her chair.

The heat from his body soaked through her uniform as he bent over her to cut away the binds on her arms. As he leaned in, his breath disturbed the curls at the nape of her neck, long since escaped from the knot she tied them in for patrol. She tried not to focus on the goosebumps it raised as her wrists sprang free and she was able to move her arms into a more comfortable position.

As she stretched, pulling her arms alternately across her chest to regain her mobility, Ansel rounded the chair and looked at her appraisingly.

“If you’re going to be the Foxes’ guest, you’ll need something else to wear. Olivia, Paul, can you see if you can dig your friend up some clothes?”

Rhosyn looked down at her uniform and grimaced. It was rumpled and dusty after three days of wear, a stain on one thigh from a spilled drink as she jumped over tables. She had even managed to lose one of the golden buttons that dotted the navy fabric. Not to mention, it wouldn’t do to have her walking freely in a gang hideout wearing the outfit of an officer of the law.

Paul nodded. “Something of mine might work, even if the pants are a little short.”

With that, he and Olivia scurried off to do Ansel’s bidding. The door banged against the frame as they left, and they found themselves alone. Ansel stood before Rhosyn, close enough his thighs nearly brushed her knees. She tilted her head up to look at him.

“So, what now?” he asked.

She stared at him, lifting a quizzical brow. “Aren’t you the one in charge here? You don’t seem to have mastered the art of holding someone hostage.”

“And you have?”

Rhosyn shrugged, “Maybe not holding a hostage. But I have put lots of people behind bars, and I’m certainly better at conducting interrogations.”

“This wasn’t an interrogation.” Ansel let out a frustrated huff through his nose. “It was a…persuasion.”