Page 108 of Caging Darling

Astor is standing above me, arms crossed. In the dark, I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused.

Though it wouldn’t be unlike him to be both.

“You came back for me,” I let out, my grogginess still upon me and preventing me from restraining my tongue.

Astor’s jaw ticks. He clears his throat, glancing to his left, drawing my attention to the two women standing next to him. Phoenix stands tall, Venus clinging to her arm, head tucked into her shoulder, still muttering to herself incoherently.

“The others?” I ask, my mind racing.

“Star and Halo are dead,” says Phoenix, voice void of emotion, but not in a callous way. “Heaven refused to come.” She pauses, her eyes glassy.

“There was nothing we could do,” says Astor.

She blinks, nodding. “The others parted ways as soon as we got out of the manor.”

“They weren’t all that trusting of the man who brought another muse into the house to sell,” explains Astor.

“But you were?” I ask Phoenix.

“I saw the way he looked at you in the parlor. Not like he owned you. Like he would die if you died.”

Astor keeps his arms crossed, tapping his finger against his forearm and examining it thoroughly.

CHAPTER 39

“What do you mean, you killed Vulcan?” The Nomad sits behind his desk, palms splayed and pressing against one another as he props his elbows on his desk. Peter’s away on a task for the Nomad, though I can’t help but wonder if the Nomad simply wanted to irritate Peter by delaying our reunion.

Astor begins counting off on what fingers he has left with the tip of his hook. “His heart no longer pumps, his lungs no longer swell, his soul has passed on from the land of the living…”

The Nomad’s face shutters, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “You see how this could potentially be problematic for me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the price on your head should he die mysteriously,” says Astor. “There were several witnesses left alive who can attest to the fact it was I who killed him.”

“And that you were within my employ.”

“Technically, the story is that I’m your slave who turned against you.”

“Technically,” says the Nomad, fisting his hands together, “bystanders don’t tend to remember such technicalities accurately after witnessing a massacre.”

“I’d hardly call it a massacre,” says Astor. “I only killed those who were coming after me first.”

The Nomad flits one of his hands. “It matters not. Rumors will circulate that Vulcan is dead and my name will be tossed in among the midst. It matters little what is true, only what money-hungry bounty hunters believe to be true.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure the bank will be thorough in their investigation.”

“Yes, it will be of great comfort to me when my head is presented to the bank and the bounty hunter who severed it is disappointed to learn he won’t be paid for his work based on a technicality.”

Astor smirks. “Glad I could help.”

I rub at my upper arms, trying to warm myself. I haven’t been able to warm up since waiting in the alleyway for Astor to come back.

Phoenix and Venus stand next to me. Venus is still shaking, clinging to her friend to hold her up. Phoenix’s chin is high. I asked on the way back to the Gathers if they’d like to be taken to the port, but Phoenix had informed me all that awaited them there was working the docks and that she had no intention of that life for either of them.

When I’d warned her that I couldn’t offer them protection from the Nomad and what he might choose to do with them, Venus had hiccupped and wept. Phoenix had simply told me she would take care of it.

“And to top it off, I see you brought guests,” the Nomad says, staring at Phoenix and Venus, looking clearly annoyed. Still, his eyes spark at their beauty, seeing a business opportunity, no doubt, if not an opportunity for his own pleasure.

“We’re here to bargain for employment,” says Phoenix, voice warbling slightly, though she keeps her spine tall.

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