Page 66 of The Unweaver

She took another step back. His seething anger wasn’t for the copper who’d all but accused him of triple homicide, or for Mother who was quite possibly destroying his house that moment. But for Cora, the horseflesh that insisted on defying its new owner.

Behind her, muted noises from the club filtered through the open door. Her only escape. “I-I didn’t think I was important enough for Mother to tail. I guess I underestimated the old bird’s capacity for spite. But the Deathshade berry—”

“You needed a fuckin’ piece of fruit to tell you the obvious? Of course she wants you dead! Allow me to spare you the suspense—everyone in Verek’s gang wants the Unweaver fuckin’ dead, too. You’ve replaced me at the top of everyone’s kill list. Congratulations.” He ground out the cigarette, shaking his head. “You strolled right into her damn trap, right into harm's way. You could’ve been— Jesus Christ, Cora, you’re not reckless; you’re suicidal.”

“But my things, my clothes—they’re all back at my flat.” The excuse sounded feeble to her own ears.

“You risked your life for some ugly dresses?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths. “If you needed something, why didn’t you just ask?”

She blinked. “That hadn’t occurred to me.”

“For fuck’s— Here.” He pulled a small fortune from his wallet and held it out. “Buy some clothes that aren’t hideous.”

She eyed the money warily. It was more than Mother had paid for even the vilest favors, and he was handing it over for some shopping? What was the catch? Generosity always had a cost.

The prospect of spending another day in her grimy clothes won out. She reached for the money like a stray dog scarfing food from one hand while awaiting a beating from the other. “Well, since you offered so graciously.”

His grip on the money didn’t loosen. “If there’s anything you need”—his finger stroked hers so lightly she might have imagined it— “ask. Twice you’ve saved my life. You can have whatever you want. But don’t go out alone again.”

“Got it. Thanks.” She tucked the money in her coat, wondering how far it could get her away from Bane. “What about Mother? Aren’t you worried about her raiding your house right now?”

“I traversed it away while you were blathering on.”

“Ah.” Taking his stony expression as dismissal, she turned to leave. “I’ll just see myself out then.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere.” He slammed the door shut with a flick of his hand. “Gang’s meeting tonight. You’re staying.”

A pit of dread yawned inside her. She spun to face him. “No! No way in hell. That is not going to happen. We discussed this, Bane. No one can know about me.”

Leaning back in his chair, he leveled her with an intent look. “Why?”

“Because— Because I don't want anyone to know. And— We made aBinding.Agreement. Sharing my secret will hurt me and therefore hurt you. Is that what you want? To hurt yourself?”

He regarded her. Pouring a generous glass of whiskey, he slid it across the desk. She hesitated before picking it up. The first sip dulled the terror swarming inside her. The rest she gulped down.

“Your secrecy was not a condition of our Binding Agreement.”

Her heart stuttered. He had tricked her with a technicality. Why hadn’t she made anonymity an explicit condition? She should’ve negotiated more vigorously, should’ve looked for hidden clauses in theirlifelong,blood-bindingagreement. She clenched the glass in a white-knuckled grip. The devil truly was in the details.

“But— You didn’t out me during parley,” she said in a strangled voice. “Why would you now?”

“I had nothing to gain from it then. And I wasn’t sure yet why you kept yourself a secret. Now I know, and neither of us has anything to gain from your secrecy. You’re safer if everyone knows you’re the Unweaver and under my protection. As long as you don’t stroll into any more fuckin’ traps.”

She stared, open-mouthed, shaking her head. It was all going to hell and there was nothing she could do. She was less safe with the Realmwalker than she’d been with Mother. At least Mother had respected her wishes for secrecy. Cora had been able to assert some control over who knew what she was.

Now that small freedom was being taken from her. As Teddy had been taken from her.

Helplessness flared into rage. Bane was stripping away her last and most fiercely held possession: her privacy. The bastard was remorseless as he stared back at her. And why shouldn’t he be? She was just another pawn in his grand schemes.

She gripped the glass until cracks formed. “Do you want them to kill me?”

“Cora, the only thing hurting you is yourself. This secret, this shame—”

“It’s not your secret to tell!” She hurled the glass at him.

He vanished. The glass hit the wall and shattered. Reappearing in front of her, his hands bit into her upper arms as he hauled her against him, his furious face a hair’s breadth away.

“Could you fuckin’ not.” He stabbed a finger at the wall where a new dent joined the old bullet hole. “Well done. A real compelling argument.”

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