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Something snagged my attention, like a flaming lamp might draw the notice of a moth. A man weaseled up behind the couple and waited for a crashing note to drown the sounds of the world before he popped his arm into the wagon and pulled something out. He slipped around the crowd like a cat keeping to the shadows.
A flicker of torchlight flashed over him briefly, and I smiled.
He had a head of thick, dark hair and stubble grown long enough to give him a rakish appearance. His jacket remained undone at the collar, allowing the warm brown of his muscled chest to show. Here was a man who could use some humility, and with the way he quietly robbed the crowd like a crow snatching seeds from a farmer’s field, he intended to leave the area soon.
Plus, he knew how to slink his way under people’s noses which fit my agenda perfectly.
My luck couldn’t have been better. I took the last step down and eased through the mass of people, my gaze glued on him. I’d found my mark.
A roar of applause tore through the audience.
One song left to go in the show.
I could imagine Mother’s eyes glittering as she assessed my pick.
Her future granddaughter, heiress to her wicked band, might have this man’s long, dark lashes, the sharp lines of his profile. I kept my face forward as I pressed around a copse of trees. My feet snapped twigs, grabbing the man’s attention, and his eyes glimmered in the moonlight.
“Oh, there you are,” I said as I placed my hand on his arm.
His expression jumped into surprise, and a small gasp raised his shoulders. A sharpness lingered on his expression as well, however. He was no fool, and I admired that. But I had a task at hand.
My voice hummed in my throat and tingled against my mouth.
Ready to pour forth.
Like the retracted claws of a predator before they struck.
The song whispered out of me, sweet and plaintive, and his muscles loosened as he dropped the coin bag he had clutched in his fingers. Only sirens had weapons so cloying. We were like carnivorous plants, beautiful and enchanting the moment before we ended a life.
“You were just getting us a room, right?” I said as I snatched up the purse he’d dropped. It could help augment the money I’d saved that jangled against my leg where I’d tied it beneath my skirts. It was tempting, but I couldn’t do it. I tossed the coin bag back into the carriage he’d taken it from as the music pitched up.
The man blinked several times as though he fought the magic. That concerned me. What person had ever fought against our powers? But his forehead smoothed back out. “A room. Yes.”
I draped my arm through his elbow and huddled with him against the cool breeze as we walked away from the crowd and into a worn building that housed a pub, a handful of occupied card tables, and a few rooms for rent above the stairs. I waited as the dark-haired stranger paid for one of them, his words mechanical as the magic dulled his senses.
Two women stepped into the building, jangling the bell above the door. Their gazes lingered too long on my companion, and I got a sinking feeling they were with him which would throw a twist into my plans. But they shuffled off farther into the room and leaned in towards each other.
The man shifted back to me, a bronze key in hand. I searched for the women again, but they had slipped away. Perhaps I’d misjudged them. He was the type of man who attracted attention, and maybe he’d caught their eye in the same way he’d drawn mine. I took the stranger’s arm, his rich scent flowing over me, and tromped up the stairs with him.
As soon as we entered the room—a pitiful, dusty space with a bed that had to crawl with bedbugs—I pulled the door closed and made quick work of guiding him to a chair and tying his arms down. Only then did I let my voice flow again, caramel-rich and low. I had a beautiful voice. That wasn’t pridefulness on my part to think that. I was designed that way. A blade as sharp as the one I pulled from my ankle.
CHAPTERTWO
SAI
The hazeof the spell broke. I jerked my arms, but ropes pinned them to a chair. Fuck. How had I let myself get into this situation? Or, better question, what the hell was any magic doing in the human country of Landre? Unless—my heart raced—the Prince had discovered my intent and sent people after me. Shit.
The ropes were poorly tied. I could undo them. But a woman with silky ivory hair and clear blue eyes stood before me, contrasting against the dusty, dim room behind her. In any other situation, I wouldn’t mind being tied up in a bedroom with her. But I had more pressing commitments. Neia would—
Oh, shit. Neia.
She was going to kill me.
I tucked my thumb into the knot and unwove it.
The woman drew a knife from her boot, and the edge glinted gold in the candlelight. I froze but not out of fear. Her knuckles paled from how tight she clutched the blade—she clearly didn’t know what to do with it. However, I now had to see how this played out.
She frowned at me, like she could read my mind, and pressed the tip of the blade into my thigh until I winced. Okay, whether she knew how to use it, a sharp blade hurt. Point made. She applied more weight, and I flinched at the sting of skin breaking. “Damn,” I cursed.
