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There. Movement behind the bulk of a chimney, its warm stone steaming softly in the gloom.
I glanced back into the street. A pair of men walked towards us on the other side, deep in discussion and more than a little merry. Still, I hardly wanted to catch their attention. Having to bail me out of prison for chasing a woman through the streets might just be my last straw with Slader, even if that woman was Mary Firth.
I slipped into the alleyway, letting the shadows hide me. “Ms. Firth? Please, I have no intention of hurting you.I—”
She stepped out from behind the chimney, shoulders hunched infear—no,rage. There was no mistaking the woman’s glare, her grey eyes glittering in the night.
She was taller than I expected, her forehead level with my eyes, and she wasbeautiful—ina vengeful kind of way, with a full bottom lip and flushed, pale cheeks.
Startled, I took a half step backwards. Her breath drifted between us, white in the frigid air. She looked at me as if Iwere…asif I were a criminal, a monster.
As if I were a man stalking her through a darkened city in the middle of the night.
I raised my hands, realizing too late that it was the same gesture cart drivers used to calm anxious horses. I also recognized that I had completely blocked off the mouth of the alleyway, which could do nothing to soothe the situation. Yet she would bolt if I moved, and though I could certainly stop her, I did not want to.
“Mary Firth,” I began. “Allow me toapologize—”
She cut me off. “Tell your captain I’m not coming back. Chasing me like a dog? Expecting me to swallow his lies? I shouldn’t expect any better from the likes of him, from the likes ofyou.”
The words hit me like a slap.“I—”
“How dare you follow me!” She cut me off again. Her accent was stronger than mine, a rural Aeadine lilt typically sported by shepherds and woodcutters. It was distractingly endearing, even if it was currently scolding me. Perhaps even more because it was scolding me.
“You terrified me,” she snapped. “And I do not react well to being terrified.”
I glanced anxiously over my shoulder. Those drunken men had to be close now, and I needed her to quiet down.
I took a small step forward and she fell silent. Nervousness flashed through her anger. I took no pride in it, but she was listening now.
“Hold up, Ms. Firth, please,” I started, praying she saw my sincerity. “You looked unwell and I was startled to see you. I ought to have declared myself. My deepest apologies. I’m Samuel Rosser, ofHart—”
“You were in Whallum,” she interrupted me, her face an iron mask.
I nodded. “The same. I am a pirate hunter under Her Majesty’s Commission.”
Mary let out a derisive, tired laugh. “Pirate hunters don’t normally sound like such prigs.”
So, she had identified my accent too. She wasright—mostof my kind did not sound like they had just walked out of the Royal Academy.
I tried not to rankle. “Have you met many pirate hunters?”
“What do you want?”
I glanced back at the darkening street and lowered my voice. “How did you get here? Have you escaped Randalf?”
“Why are you here?” Mary returned obstinately.
“I am hunting Silvanus Lirr.” I lowered my hands. Back in the street, the drunken men passed by, bawling a lewd song. “He was last seen chasing John Randalf out of Whallum, bound for Tithe.”
Her eyes flicked to the singing men. “You’re hunting Lirr?”
“You know of him?”
Her face paled in a way that made my stomach curdle.“I…Imet him. At sea.”
A horrible, thick silence fell between us, and the queasy feeling in my stomach grew. “Did he take your ship?” I asked.
She looked away. The flintiness had faded from her eyes and, despite her height, she looked smaller. That was answer enough.
