Their Fireheart

Chapter Four

"If memory serves, I believe I warned you that if I ever saw you again, I'd kill you," I commented lightly, plucking the box from her grip.

"Please," Lysandra begged, and I stopped short, the desperation behind her voice startling.

Cursing the heartbeat of one of Arobynn's little spies fluttering too close for comfort, I attempted to soften my gaze as much as I could in our current circumstances.

So typical of Arobynn to throw her at me. After all, when Lysandra had turned seventeen and had her bidding for her virginity, Arobynn was the one that had won - using the money I'd given him to purchase my freedom. Considering our precious relationship, it'd been a deliberate slap in the face. Looking back, I was a little ashamed to admit I'd thrown a knife at her when I'd found out.

But that was then, and this was now.

"How about you and your little protégée come inside for a moment, we can discuss my promise further," I said with a slight sneer, silently praying for her not to argue.

But Lysandra stiffened. "She's not my protégée, and she's not in training."

That was unusual. I'd have to learn more once I got her obstinate ass upstairs.

"Please," Lysandra said over the rain, "You don't need to worry about Evangeline, I just need to talk to you for a few minutes - where it's safe."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, couldn't she see that's what I was trying to do?

Rather than engage in more useless arguing, I stalked over to the hansom cab, cloak gradually becoming drenched from the rain, which was only getting heavier the longer we stayed outside. Peering at the rain-flecked cab permit framed by the door, I locked eyes with the nervous driver.

I hummed, "Hello, Kellan Oppel of sixty-three Baker Street, apartment two, I don't suppose I'll have to threaten you not to reveal this location to anyone, now will I? You must know the death that awaits you if you do."

White as death, the driver nodded.

I yanked open the carriage door, saying to the child within, "Get out. Both of you, inside, now."

I ignored Lysandra's whispered protestations as I peered into the carriage, at the still-cowering child within. "Come on, you. I won't bite."

The small girl finally scooted closer, gripping my arm to hop from the cab. No more than eleven, she was a tiny thing, her red-gold hair braided back to reveal citrine eyes that looked around wildly. As stunning as her companion - or would have been, were it not for the deep, jagged scars that cut through both cheeks. Scars that explained the hideous, branded-out tattoo on the inside of her wrist. The girl had been an acolyte - until she'd been marred and lost all value.

I winked at Evangeline as I led her through the rain, ignoring Lysandra following behind us. "You remind me of my sister."

Upstairs, I ignored Lysandra until the small girl chose how to occupy herself while I spoke with her mistress. It was only when she was happily gobbling up a blueberry tart in the kitchen.

Lysandra was standing uncertainly at the edge of the living room when I returned. At the first whiff of her scent with my enhanced senses in an enclosed space, something primal peered out from within me, as if scenting another predator. Which didn't make sense, but there was something - not familiar exactly, but ... interesting, about her scent.

Deciding to ignore it for now, since it wouldn't even matter until I freed magic, I pointed at the couch, telling her, "Sit."

Thankfully she obeyed, but couldn't resist taunting, "Or you'll threaten to kill me again?"