Page 5 of Kiss of Smoke

We both paused when we heard the thump of Gwyn’s footsteps overhead, followed by a faint beep as he disabled the security system. It was a testament to the silence throughout Mothwing Falls that we could hear these things at all.

The sound of one of the twin’s voices, loud but incoherent, came after.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least the twins had been at home instead of bar-hopping when the explosion happened.

Oriande’s cameraman had already panned across the Main Street of Avilion, where the glass had been blown out of the windows of multiple shops from the force of the explosion. Many of the bars they liked to frequent were nothing but crumpled ruins now.

Carabosse finished my other leg, then pulled out a packet of alcohol-soaked wipes. She straightened up with a groan, one hand on the small of her back, and pressed one of the wipes to my forehead.

A cut I hadn’t noticed there stung. “Robin already cleaned those,” I said, my tone flat and automatic, but Carabosse waved me off.

I usually wasn’t at face level with the human woman, and there was something disconcerting about her clear eyes looking straight back into mine, level and unblinking.

“You need to leave Avilion,” she said. She dabbed carefully as she spoke, but her eyes never left mine. “Get out before something worse happens.”

A brief thought bubbled up:what could be worse than this?

But we all knew there was plenty more to be afraid of. The pot of violence that Avilion had become wasn’t just simmering; it was now boiling over.

“I can’t,” I told her. “I’m staying and helping Robin see this through.”

She let out a disgusted sound. “Why? Look at what he’s put you through.” She waved a hand, encompassing my entire battered body.

“Robin had nothing to do with this,” I retorted hotly. “This was my fault. I was stupid, thinking I could get the Ghosthand’s identity without back-up.”

Carabosse paused as she dabbed the wipe against my cheek, frowning at whatever she saw on my face. “Well, did you?”

I shook my head in despair, nearly dislodging her hand. “No. The one who knew died before he could confess.”

The woman’s nostrils flared, and she went back to her work, which was just as well.

All I could see then was the shock in Hellekin’s wide eyes as his body froze from the inside out, his words stuttering on his lips.

So close, and yet so far from the answer.

“Good.” Carabosse tossed the wipe away and grabbed a new one. “What on earth would you do with it if you knew? You’re just one girl, Briallen. One girl who has been in my home for help far too many times—and you know when it started?”

I stared back at her as she touched the stinging wipe to the cut on my lip. “Don’t even go there, Carabosse.”

“I’ll go where I want, when I want. I used to sell you hangover remedies. Now, in the last three months, I’ve seen you for broken bones, fractures, a concussion, and countless injuries. And none of that began until you met Robin Goodfellow. He’s no good for you, child.” Carabosse’s expression gentled as she finished cleaning the wound. “Leave that man, leave Avilion, and go where you’ll be safe. Go back to your island. I don’t want your next visit to be your corpse on my table.”

I drew in a deep breath, moderating my anger. She was right, in a fashion: working for Robin did prove injurious to one’s health.

But I would heal, and learn from my mistakes. If I hadn’t helped him with Brightkin, the same couldn’t be said of many human girls.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, not wanting to argue with her further. My head was still swimming, making it hard to follow a single train of thought.

She made ahmmphing noise, then turned to rummage in her cabinet of medicinal wonders.

A glass of water mixed with pain-killing powder later, and I was feeling a little better. I still craved a long, deep sleep and a hot shower to rinse away the blood coating my skin, but it was miles better than I’d been only an hour ago.

Gwyn came back down as I was sliding from the table.

“Your roommates are safe. We’re going to a safe house on Robin’s orders,” he said, casting a glance at Carabosse. “Lock up, human. Don’t come out unless it’s Goodfellow himself knocking on your door.”

Carabosse paused in her cleaning to pat the loaded pistol that still lay within reach. “You don’t need to teach an old horse new tricks.”

“Thank you once more, Carabosse,” I said, touching her arm. “Stay safe. If you need anything, you know Robin’s number. I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

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