Page 54 of The Hood and his Thief

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Ansel remarked.

Rhosyn snorted, as nobody could mistake Kristoff for her real brother. Where he was tan and muscular with hair that always looked effortlessly mussed, she was lanky and pale with an unruly nest on the top of her head.

“He’s a chosen brother,” she clarified.

“Another Lion, I presume.” Ansel raised a brow.

“Not just any Lion either,” Kristoff answered. “And you might not have been around these streets long enough to remember, but the Lions used to be the most feared name in London. If I don’t find out what you’re doing with Rhosyn here soon, you’ll find out why.” Kristoff’s tone was as casual as ever, but Rhosyn had known the sharpshooter long enough to know he didn’t deal in idle threats.

“This is Ansel. He has Olivia and Paul,” she interjected, hurrying to explain.

At that, Kristoff’s grip tightened around his pistols, fingers drifting to the trigger. Rhosyn raised her hands, palms out.

“They’re safe,” she assured. “He’s helping them get out of the city.”

Kristoff’s brow furrowed. “I thought they were joining proper society. They never struck me as the type to run away and join the circus.”

Rhosyn shook her head. “It’s…complicated.” She looked back and forth between the two men, still looking at each other with narrowed eyes. A cord of tension ran between them, with her held taught in the middle. The thread anchored under her ribs pulled her in both directions at once—toward a past life that would never return but could not be forgotten and toward an impossible future that Rhosyn had only barely dared to dream of.

Shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging, Ansel broke the moment, tension unraveling. “I suppose I should give you two a chance to catch up.”

A breath rushed out of Rhosyn’s chest, and finally, Kristoff holstered his guns. Given how quick he was on the draw, it barely made him any less dangerous, but it was clear he accepted Ansel’s olive branch. Rhosyn shot Ansel a look that she hoped conveyed her gratitude.

He gave her the smallest nod and started strolling past them towards the entrance. “I am going to try to hunt down some tea. I’ll be outside when you’re done talking.”

Kristoff kept his gaze trained on Ansel’s back until it disappeared behind the fluttering tent flap. Then he turned back to Rhosyn.

“Even if he’s standing guard outside, I can get you out of here right now,” Kristoff said, voice low enough to not be heard through the thick canvas walls. “We can be at Nate’s house in time for breakfast. You could be eating a fresh batch of Gregor’s scones within the hour.”

The watering of Rhosyn’s mouth at the mention of Gregor’s cooking did nothing to distract from the feeling of being punched in the chest. The rift inside her ached, having slowly been deepening inside her over the past days. In her subconscious, she knew she would be faced with the task of escaping from the Foxes, but that had been a problem for three days from now, when Olivia and Paul were safely out of London. Somehow, having an excuse to put it off allowed her to pretend that it was inevitable, but not immediate—not a decision she had to make, for it was not yet a reality.

But now, faced with Kristoff, who so earnestly offered to shoot his way out of this camp with her if he had to, her resolve shuddered.

“I’m not sure I can leave,” she admitted, her voice smaller than she was used to.

“Is that man blackmailing you? If I need to—”

Rhosyn shook her head before Kristoff got any heroic ideas about setting things on fire, which was too often his first solution to any problem. “Ansel—all of the Foxes really—are trying to help the Talented who have been sponsored in the upper city. Something is wrong and…and I think I need to stay to help figure out what it is.”

She didn’t know it was true until she said it. Once the words were out of her, though, it felt like the wedge being used to crack open her chest was gone, allowing her to be a single person once more. As quickly as she could, she filled Kristoff in on what had happened since Ansel had kidnapped her at the circus, although she strategically left out the parts where she slept tied to his bed with him.

Kristoff’s clear blue gaze pinned her as he cocked his head, surprisingly perceptive given how rarely he seemed to take anything seriously. “I take it you took my advice on investigating Mr. Gower, despite what the police said?”

“I think this might be another case where I need to let my instincts guide me, and those are hard to write up in a police report,” Rhosyn admitted. “If I’m ‘missing’, then I can do these investigations off the record. I—” Rhosyn choked around the words she said next, “I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell Chief Thorne you’d found me.”

To his credit, Kristoff’s face held no judgment. If anybody knew how to flirt with the line of what was legal and what was right, it was Kristoff.

“I have to tell Nate though,” he said. “He’s been going half mad since you went missing.”

Rhosyn blinked, the back of her eyes suddenly stinging. “He has?”

“He nearly yelled at Joseph for not spending more resources on finding you, even though he knows the Royal Police are spread thin as it is and Joseph was doing everything he could,” Kristoff said. “I’ve been searching for you ever since Joseph told us you didn’t show up for your patrol, and Nate has joined me whenever he’s not with the King. Even Contessa’s had her ear to the ground, all her connections keeping an eye out.”

Rhosyn’s throat went tight. When the Lions had officially dissolved, it had felt oddly like losing a family, despite seeing all her friends constantly. She had felt the loss of the camaraderie that came from shared danger like a death in her heart. It was something she had never quite found in the police force, as much as she liked her new colleagues. Knowing the lengths Nate would go to filled her with the warmth of belonging once more.

“Then tell Nate and Contessa not to worry. I’ll apologize for making them anxious later but for now…for now I have to figure out what the Gowers are up to.”

“Is that the only reason you’re staying? You and that Ansel chap seem…friendly.” Kristoff’s tone was playful, but she could tell his question was serious. Despite her relentless teasing of Kristoff over his affection for Gregor, he had never gotten to return the favor. There had never been any romantic liaisons in her life, and the physical relationships she allowed herself were brief and always beneath her friends’ notice.