Page 103 of Caging Darling

My throat constricts. She’s right. It’s a strange question. As far as I could tell, there were no faerie muses at the party and we didn’t pass any in the hall. There’s no reason for me to be inquiring about them.

Since I don’t have a good logical reason, I turn to fear for aid, letting my hands tremble. “My old master used to keep one. A faerie—I mean. She was the jealous sort.” I pull my shawl over my shoulders. “She attacked me on occasion,” I say, making a point to let my eyes go glassy.

A knowing look overcomes Phoenix’s face. “Even if there was a faerie here, it wouldn’t be her you should be afraid of.”

“You mean I should fear Vulcan,” I say.

“No. No, if you can handle his bed, he won’t hurt you. Not like other masters might have.”

“Then what should I be afraid of?”

“Leaving,” she says.

A chill overcomes my entire body.

Her lips curve into a pitying smile. “It’s not all that bad. We’re a tight-knit bunch, the muses. You’ll have friends here. Life could be worse.”

“Does it make you sad?” I ask. “When a new muse comes along?”

She narrows her brow slightly, staring at the tapestry on the far side of the wall. “Yes, and no. It usually depends on where she’s coming from. But we’re almost always better off with Vulcan.”

“Even if it’s not the best things could be.”

“Ah. I forget you’re from the aristocracy. For some of us, this is the best things could be.” She watches me carefully, then adds. “But you’re right. I always feel a twinge of pain. Right here.” She points to her sternum. “When they’re brought in. But that’s happening less and less. Vulcan’s had his eyes homed in on a specific girl for the past year now. He won’t rest until he gets a hold of her.”

Curiosity spikes within me. “Her master won’t sell her?”

She laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “This one doesn’t have a master. She’s just elusive. Scratched Vulcan up when he tried to snatch her himself. That’s why I was suspicious when you asked about a faerie. He’s been after this one, and I thought… Well, I don’t know what I thought. Just that it was too much of a coincidence.”

“Oh,” I say, glad for once that my presence tends to come across as meek and non-threatening.

I don’t want to ask more. For now, I’ve confirmed that Tink isn’t here. Meaning the Nomad is no closer to her than he was an hour ago.

But my bargain betrays me. “Do you know her name?”

When again, suspicion flickers on Phoenix’s face, I scramble for a good reason to be asking. “My master’s faerie…she escaped about a year ago. I just…”

The girl whistles. “You really are afraid of her, aren’t you?”

“My master always kept her from going too far,” I explain. “He’s not around to protect me here.”

“Tink,” says the muse. “Her name is Tink.”

My stomach falls out of my gut. “It’s not her,” I say. “Thank you.” Before I can stop myself, I’m adding, “Do you think he’ll catch her?”

“He always catches them. Even the runners. Even the ones who know how to hide in the streets. Besides, those wings of hers will be difficult to hide, and he has a bounty out. We’ve had several sources report sightings in Shrinedale. It won’t be long before that bed over there”—she nods toward the bed with the pale yellow canopy—“is taken.”

CHAPTER 38

Pheonix advises that I leave my shawl back in the muses’ quarters.

As she leads me back into Vulcan’s entertaining room, I make the mistake of scanning the crowd for Astor first. He’s not difficult to find, sulking in the corner as he is.

Upon seeing me in the scant gown the Nomad picked out for this occasion, he blanches, his color receding then returning as quick as it left in scarlet blotches up his neck. He blinks, swallows, then straightens, turning to examine the hourglass perched on the bookcase next to him.

“Ah, there’s my little prize,” says Vulcan, peering at me from behind a goblet. He’s perched on a chaise, his boots propped on the bare legs of the muse lounging next to him. He tips back his drink, gulps, then pounces from his seat, striding toward me as he adjusts his jacket. “You know,” he says, examining my body with what a more naive version of myself would have mistaken for lovesick eyes, “I was torn to shreds the night you were taken from me. Bothered by the incident for months. I’d thought our story was tragic. But now as I’m considering how the events unfolded, I’m wondering if the Fates were looking down on me with favor after all. You see, never in my life have I wantedsomething I couldn’t have. Not with the flash of a smile or my parents’ coin purse. I’m afraid I’ve never been fulfilled because of it. But you, Nova. I’ve been waiting on you.”

With that, Vulcan slides a finger down the neckline of my gown, caressing the top of my breast. My skin goes clammy.

---