Page 104 of Caging Darling

Footsteps pound on the floor, louder than the chatter of the party guests. Astor appears next to me, taking my arm in his.

Vulcan’s eyes turn to ice. “I don’t take well to my things being touched,” he says.

“Fine,” says Astor. “Then I’ll buy her back.”

Vulcan laughs. Then looks around the room, as if he’s gauging his response based on how many people are listening. Finally, he settles on, “I’m afraid I value my muses too much to consider parting with them.”

“That’s because you haven’t been offered a high enough price,” says Astor.

Vulcan’s smile turns acidic. “Have you not looked around, my friend? What sum of money could you possibly offer me that would make me any richer?”

Astor smiles. “We both know that’s not how riches work. They’re the gift that kept taking. The mouth that kept begging for more.”

“No,” says Vulcan, drawing it out. “Now take your hands off my muse.”

“Or what?” says Astor. “Are you going to send your muses after me?”

“Unnecessary,” says Vulcan, snapping his fingers. Every bookcase in the room swivels open, and out of the hidden doors pour eight guards, each with a glinting sword at his side.

I tense, but Astor doesn’t acknowledge our new company.

“What if it’s not money I’m willing to deal in?” says Astor.

“My last name isn’t Carlisle,” says Vulcan. “I don’t deal in secrets.”

“But you’ll want this one,” says Astor. “Because I know where the Nomad is.”

I try not to let my thoughts show on my face. My hope that Vulcan will take the bait. This was our plan—have Astor act jealous once he saw me with Vulcan, then try to buy me back. Give up the Nomad’s location as a bartering chip.

“Many have claimed to know the location of the Gathers. Seldom have they been correct,” says Vulcan, looking bored, though the fact that he’s no longer steaming gives away that he’s interested.

“Probably because none of them have been currently in the Nomad’s employ.”

Vulcan raises his brow.

“Have to know where he’s going to turn up next if I’m going to deliver his money, don’t I?” says Astor, lifting his coat and letting the envelope of money peek out from his inner pocket.

“I thought you said the girl belonged to you,” Vulcan says.

“Well, let’s just say she was acquired at the same time I was.”

“The dreaded Captain Astor, a slave?” asks Vulcan. “Now, how did that come about?”

“It’s a rather long and personal story,” says Astor, flashing his teeth.

“Regardless of how you ended up in your situation, it rarely ends well—slaves betraying their masters.” Vulcan’s eyes flit toward the muses in the room, his warning received based on the demure but plastered smiles on their faces.

“I rather enjoy pressing my luck.”

Vulcan sighs, tapping his fingers together. “Even so, one has to wonder—if you’re so willing to hand over your master, why not do it to begin with?”

Astor smiles. Then nods toward the money in his pocket again.

“Ah,” says Vulcan. “But you have to know I’ll be wanting that back now. The price of the girl went up as soon as she entered my possession.”

Astor doesn’t move. He simply stares at Vulcan, an unreadable smile on his face. Still, I’m relieved at Vulcan’s last words. If there’s a price on me, that means he’s willing to sell.

“Fine,” says Astor after a droning minute. “You can have your money back and the location of the Nomad in exchange for the girl.”

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