Page 45 of Chasing the Night

I whipped around, half expecting one of Klarissa’s henchmen to attack, but all I met was Keif’s easy smile. I melted against his side, unable to resist a hug of relief.

He murmured contently but quickly straightened up and placed his arm between us.

“Are you afraid of a little scandal?” I teased.

His bright brown eyes surveyed me for signs of jest. When he didn’t find any, the corner of his mouth twisted, and he shook his head in a playful denial. “I welcome any scandal you see fit to offer, Lady Chalice. Always and without question.”

Laughter bubbled within me and color spread over my cheeks in a warm wave. He always knew what to say, that was for sure.

The Sip Room was noisy and full of life. Everyone seemed to be whispering the same thing. Our booth was taken, so we settled for a space large enough for us to both stand in near the serving counter.

I knew he liked the fruitier offerings, like wine and seasoned juice, but I wasn’t in the mood for such.

“Two tall Cognacs,” I called when a younger looking girl paused briefly in front of us. I recognized her from the other day and laid a few extra coins down. She smiled brilliantly and set to fetching our order.

“Lady Krypt!” Dagma called from the counter. He shoved himself off his stool without further ado and demanded I take the seat. “Say, ‘what’s a nice wee one like you doing down here?”

“Hiding. From all pretense, expectation, and other formal fuckeries,” Keif spoke up, silently saluting the man with his drink.

Dagma guffawed and raised his glass as well while I climbed onto the stool.

“Well, your’n secret be safe with ol’ Dagma. Never ye worry!” he assured before slipping into the crowd.

It amazed me how scandalized they were by my being in a closed in wine house. That’s all it was really—well, except for the prostitutes, err… Painted Ladies. Were they really Painted Ladies if they didn’t wear the make up? Or clothes for that matter?

Various conversations sifted over the crowd. Lucky for me, I wasn’t the only Lady who was tossing caution to the wind.

“Dagma, what say you… will the Authority call her on account o’ the spying? Or ye reckon them charges will ne’er make it to the powers that be?” a voice called nearby.

“Ahhh,” Dagma crudely scoffed, “She be a dirty spy, fer sure. The filthiest o’ kinds too! No. She’ll ne’er see a day o’ jail. Mark it.”

I took a few swigs of the Cognac and shook my head to clear my thoughts. The long curtain of dark hair tickled my chin where it met the leather neck corset.

Keif’s thick, warm fingers chased it back and tucked it behind my ear. Once he had, his hand settled over the neck corset and his thumb skimmed across my lower cheek. It was a simple gesture, but the forbidden atmosphere combined made it so much more. I felt amazing and free.

Somewhere in the back, a bawdy tune loudly cried from the piano. Someone brought in a wind instrument, and I closed my eyes and leaned into him. My body fit perfectly against him. A flesh blanket of sorts, that swayed in the wind with me.

It felt like I was swaying in the wind anyhow.

The drink was going down too smooth for me to recognize the heady feelings within me. All I knew was, I didn’t want it to stop. I wrapped my arm around his neck and dropped just enough of my weight for him to understand my need. Well, I hoped he did. I stared up at him.

He stared back at me, too. A familiar carnal gaze that I recognized in my hazy state. It was the same way Uncle Icarus looked at Isabella, the same way he had looked at me the night of the winter ball.

Keif’s hand had fallen, the knuckle barely grazing against my side as he surrendered to my snug embrace. Its weight skimmed over the top of my hip, before sliding to the small of my back, and settling with just as much pressure as I had claimed him with.

I was in a trance, a beautiful, tempting trance that left my body grazing against his to a tune that gave me a pulse in places I didn’t know I possessed. Giving in to the sensation and urge it inspired, I brought my mouth up to his. The moment my intent was clear, he beat me to it, crushing and commanding my mouth until everything melted around us.

Except the fingers that suddenly shoved their way across my forehead and pried me off him. My nose was barely clear of his, when Ender’s fist crashed into Keif’s face. I screamed on impulse, and back peddled until I was sitting on top of the serving counter.

The pair of them scuffled, shoved, and smacked each other about until the door became clogged. Patrons were fleeing, and Messiah and his army of city watchmen were forcefully trying to squeeze their way in to gain control of the situation.

Oh, fuck. Oh. Fuck.

The way he looked at me caused my stomach to swallow my heart. For a moment, I considered sliding over the counter and arming myself with one of the liquor bottles.

The watchmen formed a circle around Ender and Keif who were both bloodied by now,preventing them from tearing up anymore of the establishment. Messiah was hot on their heels. He hopped into the circle, grabbed the front of each of their shirts and shook them violently. It took them a moment to realize who had them.

When they did, both settled down until they were heaving and glaring.

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