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Gideon pulled himself into the room. His wounded leg protested every step as Laila moved aside to let him try.
“Gideon, you’re bleeding …”
The Moth’s knife had missed the major arteries and tendons, but his thigh still hurt like hell. What annoyed him most, though, was not getting a look at her face before she plunged the blade in.
“It looks worse than it is,” he said, taking the tarnished metal latch in both hands and yanking on it.
The door didn’t budge.
I had her,he thought, throwing himself at the door.She was in my hands.
But why hadn’t she gone for his neck with that knife? The Moth was a coldhearted killer. Gideon had seen the corpses she’d abandoned in the city streets, ruthlessly bled dry.
So why aim for his leg?
Laila moved to the window. The pane was smashed. Liftingher gun, Laila aimed through the broken glass and fired three times.
“I think that last shot might have hit her,” she said, peering out.
The idea of Laila hitting her mark made Gideon stiffen.
If it was Rune …
Gideon scowled. Who cared if it was Rune? Rune or not, the Crimson Moth wouldn’t think twice if their situation was reversed—the proof was in his throbbing, bleeding leg.
And if it was Rune,he told himself,she’s a traitor to the Republic.
Whoever she was, the Moth had been in his grasp tonight. It was as close as he’d ever come. If he and Rune had been courting longer, he’d be able to tell if that slight frame pressed against him in the darkness belonged to her. He’d know how Rune felt beneath him and would have been able to compare it to the girl he’d pinned down tonight. But as close as he’d come to Rune Winters, it wasn’t nearly close enough to know the difference.
Gideon’s shoulder hurt from throwing himself at the door. He had just lifted his good leg to kick it down when Laila said, “It won’t work.”
She motioned to something out the window.
Striding over, Gideon glanced through the pane. A blood-red moth fluttered below the hanging lantern outside, its delicate wings thin as residue. Like a fingerprint he could almost see through.
“It’s a spell.”
Gideon sighed. It would likely be hours before it faded and the door unlocked.
He turned to Laila. “Did you get a look at her?”
Laila shook her head. “She kept her face covered and moved too quickly. We should have brought the hounds with us. And the Taskers.”
Gideon had intentionally left the Tasker brothers behind after they’d defied his orders and abused the last witch. Clearly that had been a mistake. Two more soldiers would have made the difference. Not to mention the witch-hunting hounds.
If Gideon were being honest, he hadn’t brought the hounds because the thought of siccing them on Rune made his stomach turn. He’d remembered her trembling beneath his touch in her bedroom; shivering in nothing but her underwear as he took her measurements.
Gideon had gone soft on a murderous witch—or at the very least, a witch sympathizer.
Fool.
He’d let her dupe him into thinking she was an innocent girl. Someone vulnerable and in need of protection.
He admitted none of this to Laila, who was smashing the rest of the broken pane out of the window frame with the butt of her pistol.
“This is what we know,” he said, giving up on the enchanted door, which wouldn’t open until the signature faded. “The Crimson Moth showed up at the wrong location tonight. A location I gave to only one person: Rune Winters. Even if she isn’t the Moth, she’s obviously in league with her.”
It was enough to arrest her.
