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Killian
“What sort of cost?” Ainsley sucked in a breath and eyed me curiously.
I shook my head and tsked. “Ah, the cost will come later. All shall be revealed when the time comes for your debt to be repaid.”
“Are you kidding me?” She reared back as if I had struck her. “You wish for me to agree to an open-ended proposition without knowing the price? I may be somewhat naïve, but I am not a fool.”
There it was. I’d offended her. Perhaps this would halt her search for the rogue who did not want to be found. “Take it or leave it, Princess. Those are my terms.” I smirked, and I thought perhaps she may well reach across the table and slap me.
“Do not call me princess.” She seethed, fire blazing in her eyes. “Just like a scheming pirate. How can I trust anything you say at this point?”
Well, honestly, she shouldn’t, I thought to myself with a grin, although I refrained from admitting it aloud.
“What could you possibly find so amusing? I need answers, Killian, and all you seem to be doing is playing games. What is it that you really want?” She arched an irritated brow and sipped her wine.
Could I tell her that what she was asking of me would likely be a suicide mission in the making, that the man she sought had enemies greater than she could ever dream of? I assumed based on her expression it would not deter her in the least.
I settled with a straightforward answer that could perhaps benefit the both of us. “All right, I propose a trade. This, however, does not relieve you of your debt, not quite, anyway.” I paused, and she narrowed her eyes. “You come from royalty, and as such, you’re not lacking funds. Funds in which me and my crew could use as payment for traveling without having to plunder, act as ‘scheming pirates,’ as you so astutely called us. This way, we both get what we want.” I crossed my arms, placing them on the table and leaning forward, awaiting her decision.
She turned away, appearing lost in thought. Finishing her wine, she set her cup on the table and met my gaze. “You have yourself a deal. Under one condition: I am to be under your protection, as I’ve never traveled aboard an airship, and you must do all that you can to assist me in my search. If I feel you are slacking, the deal is off.”
Women. She drove a hard bargain, but who was I to say no? I could ensure her safety in the skies—this I was certain of. I reached across the table. “Deal.”
Ainsley stared at my hand, seeming bewildered by the gesture.
A slow smile curved the corner of my mouth as I said, “You’re supposed to shake it.”
“Oh.” A blush crept up her neck, quickly crawling up to her face and tinting her cheeks pink. “Right.” She clasped my hand with a tighter grip than I’d expected, and that same feeling—what felt like a jolt of lightning—spread up my arm again. Her eyes grew wide and she snatched her hand away.
“You felt that, did you?” I arched a brow, laying my palm flat on the table. “Is there something you’d like to discuss with me?”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” Ainsley turned her head again, reaching for her now-empty goblet.
“Would you like another?”
Her gaze shifted as she, once again, scanned the pub. I got the distinct impression she wasn’t quite comfortable, not only speaking of the subject at hand, but being in a place such as this was likely more the cause of her unease. She was a lady, after all. “I would actually like to get out of this place.” It had become quite rowdy since we’d arrived: a fight was breaking out near the bar. “I do not like it here.”
“Very well,” I said and got to my feet, extending my hand. It seemed my assessment had been correct.
“Thank you.” She slung her satchel over her shoulder, accepting the gesture more willingly than I’d thought she would, and as she did, her grip tightened. “Let us hurry, please.”
I wondered what her sense of urgency was, why she was so intent on leaving in such a hurry. When I glanced at our joined hands, an odd sort of glow radiated between our palms. I shook my head. Perhaps I’d drunk too much ale.
But the odd sort of luminosity brought with it a heat that I could not possibly be imagining. When I tried to let go, Ainsley clutched at my arm, anxiety marring her features. “Please, Killian, I have to get out of here.”
I searched the room to see where her newfound sense of panic was coming from. It stood in stark contrast from the fearless sword-fighting woman who’d appeared in the alleyway earlier on.
A flash of red hair caught my eye.
My stomach knotted and roiled.
Bloody hell.
I couldn’t be certain what had Ainsley suddenly so nervous, but we were about to have another problem.
A much bigger problem.
Before I could get Ainsley’s attention, I noticed her gaze was now locked on the same figure that had made my skin crawl.
