Page 66 of Wild Bond

The broad wooden door was opened from the inside by one of theladies, a beautiful blonde in a revealing violet gown. A cloud of the familiar cloying scent hit me, a mixture of sweat, rose water, and sour ale.

Skye sensed my unease and her reassurance flooded the bond. It almost felt like her phantom presence was sitting on my shoulder, she felt so close.

My attention returned to the woman as she took Rake in from head to toe. A slow, inviting smile creased her painted lips, as she drawled in a sickly-sweet voice, “Welcome to The Plucked Rose.” She moved aside to usher us in. “Is there anything in particular you are looking for this evening?”

She finally deigned to look at me as we stepped inside. She took in my trainee leathers, now only partially concealed by my cloak, and her eyes widened. Then they jumped back to Rake, and I saw dawning recognition on her face mixed with a healthy dose of awe and fear.

“We’re here to see Safan, on official business,” Rake answered, that steely tone I hadn’t heard from him in a while back in his voice. “Take us to him.”

The woman fought hard to keep the smile on her face, but her voice still cracked a little as she responded, “Of-of course, Rider. Right this way.”

I observed the familiar surroundings as the woman led us deeper inside and across the main room. I was surprised to find it really hadn’t changed that much in the little over two years since I’d been here. If anything, it looked a little shabbier.

The large room was split into two levels, the lower being filled with a bar on the far wall and battered, wooden tables and chairs, most of which were filled with lively patrons either drinking, eating or gambling. The ladies were spread out around the room, smiling and fluttering their lashes at the predominantly male clientele, trying to entice them to make use of the rooms on the upper level.

The patrons who noticed us grew silent as we passed.

My eyes were inevitably drawn to the back of the establishment where they locked with hard gray ones.

Madame Rosalina stood lounging against one of the high tables. She had to be nearing her fifth decade but was still a remarkably beautiful woman. Not a speck of gray dared to show itself in her long dark hair pinned high on her head. Her stature was small, though she still boasted the figure of a much younger woman. The entire effect was ruined, however, by the hard, pinched expression on her face and the cruelty in her eyes.

I nearly shrank back from the weight of that stare as I would have in the past, but then reminded myself I wasn’t the desperate, powerless girl that she had once known. I straightened my spine and met her stare and was pleased to see her pale slightly when she noticed Rake striding like an immovable wraith beside me.

My attention returned to our very anxious escort as she led us up two flights of stairs and into a short dim hallway that I remembered all too well. We stopped at a familiar oak door as she knocked briefly once and waited for the call to enter from the other side before opening it.

Feeling like it was an itch I had to scratch, I forced my arm down from where I had once again almost rubbed at my scar as we entered Safan’s office.

The room was large, taking up a good portion of the third floor. Dark wood, red drapes, and leather chairs filled the space. A tall bookcase and several paintings covered the wall behind the overly large desk. Safan fancied himself a wealthy gentleman rather than the slimy crook he was, and his tastes reflected that. There was also a large window off to one side that looked out onto the street below, and a round skylight directly over the center of the room.

Safan himself sat in the leather chair behind his desk. He wasn’t a large man, but he carried an air of authority about him like an inky cloak. From what I could see, he was dressed in an expensive dark tunic with gold thread designs sewn into the fabric—something I could easily see a nobleman wearing at the castle. His hair was a mousy graying brown color that he kept short and neatly trimmed.

“Master, there are two dragon riders here to see you,” the woman informed him. He dismissed her with a flick of his ringed hand, and she curtsied slightly before making a hasty exit.

“I wondered when I’d be seeing you again, my dear,” he said by way of greeting as he took in first me, then Rake. His poker face remained intact as he gestured to the seats before his desk. His tone was deceptively warm as he invited, “Come in, come in, and sit down.”

Rake and I walked further into the room, but neither of us sat.

Safan didn’t let this bother him though, and barely took a breath before speaking again. “Who’d have thought our little Corrine would end up becoming a fearsome dragon rider? I mean, you were always a beauty . . .” He motioned to me, his hands going up and down my body. “That face, that hair,” he tutted and shook his head, “such a waste. You would have made us both rich. I should have let Rosalina train you.”

Beside me, Rake growled. He actuallygrowled. It wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t spoken yet either. I knew he wanted to, but I had a feeling he was allowing me to confront this man on my own. I knew Rake had no idea what this man had done to me. If he did, Safan would probably be dead already, but he most likely had an inkling. Yet he was still allowing me to take the lead.

Safan paused but when Rake said nothing, he continued, clearing his throat, “Of course, stealing was always where your true talents lay. And I must admit, I was shocked and saddened to learn of your capture. You were always so good at getting out of a tight spot. I didn’t think anyone could catch you.” He grinned pointedly at Rake, and I caught the gleam of a silver tooth in his mouth as he did.

I was surprised he was bringing up my past illegal activities in front of Rake, especially because he was either directly or indirectly involved in almost all of them. Rake was the queen’s spymaster after all. Maybe Safan was getting careless in his old age, or maybe he figured Rake must already know about my past so there was no point in mincing words. Of course he hadn’t directly implicated himself in anything either.

Still, the flippancy in his words as he spoke of what happened to me galled me, and stirred my anger to a surprising degree. It was an anger that had been there for most of my life but had been stoked anew when I walked into Safan’s office and laid eyes on him again.

“You didn’t think anyone would catch me?” I challenged, not trying to hide my scoffing tone. “You knew I was planning to leave with her, so you set me up. You set Lessa up!”

Safan’s brow puckered as if he was confused. “I’m not sure to what you are referring. I never sent you to steal the sword. If memory serves, you had a completely different mission that night.”

I glared at him. “You knew I would go after her and try to help her. Especially on such an impossible mission. The only reason I think Lessa even got close was that no one could fathom a thief would have the audacity to steal that sword in the first place. You knew she would get caught. Thatwewould get caught.”

“My dear Corrine, I knew no such thing. I thought little Lessa would be quick enough to steal it, and I had no way of knowing you would go after her.” It seemed he had decided there was no more point in keeping up pretenses anymore after all. “And besides, it all worked out well in the end.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in that infuriating way he had always done since I was a child. “Look at you now.”

“I got caught,” I reminded him coldly. “I was imprisoned for two years. I’d hardly call that ‘working out well.’”

Safan regarded me with amusement and cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, I know.” He gestured to Rake where he stood stone-faced beside me. “Captured by the very man who stands beside you now, fairly bristling with protective anger. Whatever did you do, dear Corrine, to bring about such a change?”

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