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Fordham’s eyebrows rose. “That fact was not circulated.”
“That’s because no one believes me.”
“And you have proof?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No, but… my gut tells me that there is nothing simple about what happened to him. He was following me out of that party, just like he’d done a dozen times before. He wasn’t stupid enough to be caught and robbed like that.”
Fordham was silent for a moment before saying, “All right.”
“You don’t believe me either.”
“On the contrary,” he said, closing his notebook, “I’m prone to believe that there is something larger happening here.”
“You are?”
He leveled her with a look. “You informed me of what was going to happen in the tournament and then passed out in my bedroom.”
“Right,” she said softly. “About that.”
He waved it away. “My gut is also typically right. And it tells me that what you said about Lyam is likely true.”
Kerrigan didn’t know why she was confiding in this broody princeling. But he was here and she found herself attracted to him and something did seem to continue to drive them together.
“Yeah, well, I wish we weren’t the only ones. I have one month to get a tribe to accept me, and now, I have to figure out what happened with Lyam.”
“A tribe to accept you?”
“I made a deal. I have the length of the dragon tournament to be accepted into a tribe, or I have to work for the Society into perpetuity.”
He frowned at that news. “Would working for the Society be so bad?”
“When the other option is freedom?”
“Point taken,” he said dryly. “I’ve only recently discovered freedom myself.”
Kerrigan tilted her head. “How exactly did you get out of the House of Shadows?”
Any humor or lightness left on Fordham’s face evaporated. As if he’d forgotten that they were just two people alone in the dark and remembered his place in the world.
“I walked out,” he said simply and then stood swiftly, tucking his book under his arm.
“Wait,” she said, getting to her feet. She reached her hand out, forcing his name out of her mouth, “Fordham.”
He strode away purposefully and her shoulders dropped in dismay. Well, scales.
Right before he reached the corridor that led down to his rooms, Fordham came to a stop and turned back to her. He was silhouetted in the opening. She swallowed.
“If you want to find out what happened to your friend, I could go with you.”
Kerrigan staggered forward a step in shock. One minute, he’d been pissed and ready to flee from her presence, and now, he was offering… this? What in the gods’ name was going on in his head?
“Why?” she blurted out. “You hate my kind.”
“A favor for a favor. You helped me in the tournament, and I will help you with this. Then we are even.”
His words were precise and severe. As if this would be the end of their bond. That helping her would close the loop. He clearly did not like the idea of being in her debt.
She watched him walk away, perplexed. Who exactly was Fordham Ollivier?
21
The Dawn
Clover
Clover hadn’t been this tired in a long time. Not since the night she had slept among the bones. A small shudder ran down her back, and she pulled out her father’s old locket. She should be asleep. Kerrigan had gone off to walk out her anxiety and fear, but Clover didn’t have the same nervous energy. Her constant companion was pain.
Even though she knew Kerrigan would kill her, she pulled out a smoke, striking a match to light it and taking a good, long drag. Instantly, her muscles relaxed, and the spasms stopped. Everything felt more like it should. More like… before.
Probably, she should finish the cigarette and then get some sleep. Dozan wouldn’t care how tired she was tomorrow when she had to deal. He’d just dock her pay for being worthless to him. Still, she couldn’t sleep.
Maybe it was the empty bed on the other side of the room. The bed that had belonged to Darby for as long as Clover had known Kerrigan. Clover had snuck in more nights than she could count and found the beautiful woman lying in her nightclothes. The white underthings brilliant against her dark onyx skin.
She teased Hadrian to death. They fought like cats and dogs. But Darby… sweet, innocent Darby, she was an entire world of different. Clover had never been able to bring herself to make that move. Not when Darby was about to be a lady in a Bryonican aristocracy’s household. Darby had been too good for Clover long before that.
Clover flopped back onto Kerrigan’s bed and put out the smoke with a sigh when a soft knock sounded on the door. She sat up real quick.
“Kerrigan? You change your mind?” she called.
The door creaked open, and there Darby stood, as if Clover had conjured her up from a dream. “Oh, Clover,” she whispered, ducking her chin to her chest. A lantern was clutched in her hand. “I didn’t… I thought—”
