Page 30 of This Vicious Dream

And still, the knowledge that Madinia sees me as just another man attempting to steal her freedom…it eats at me.

Steeling myself against the guilt, I ride through the southern gates, keeping my eyes peeled for a flame-haired vixen.

It’s a huge city, but my instincts are never wrong. And the innkeeper clutching a wailing baby to her chest gives me a long look when I describe Madinia.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never seen her before.”

She’s lying, and if she was lying to anyone but me, I would appreciate her attempt to keep Madinia safe.

I’m not enough of a bastard to threaten a woman with a child in her arms. But I don’t need to. The stablehand doesn’t hesitate to tell me which way she went.

“She headed that way,” he points north. “She was moving quickly too. Seemed scared.”

“And yet you just told someone who is clearly hunting her which way she went.”

His mouth drops open and I lean close. “Spread the word. If anyone else comes looking for her, and any cowards such as yourself think to tell them which way she went, I will return. And I will kill you all.”

The stablehand nods, his eyes wide. Mounting Fox, I head in the direction he pointed, allowing my instincts to steer me.

It’s half an hour before I find her at the market, handing over a few scant coins for horse feed and a few apples.

She looks spooked, her eyes constantly darting. She knows she’s being hunted, and yet had to stop to refill her stores.

Dark circles linger beneath her eyes, and she looks like she needs a good meal. Guilt eats at me once more.

Our eyes lock.

Her mouth drops open, her face flushing with fury. Leaving the food behind, she sprints toward her horse, tied at the edge of the market.

Guilt turns to rage.

Fox attempts to break into a trot, but a crowd of women stroll between us, and Madinia makes it onto her horse, spinning her mare around and taking off.

I ride past the stall, holding out my hand. “Give me that.”

The man gives me the horse feed and apples, and I take a moment to secure them to Fox. He throws his head, clearly impatient. He feels the thrill of the hunt as much as I do.

“Relax,” I tell him. “I know exactly where she’s going.”

Madinia is clever, and she rides down alleys and hidden side streets. I catch sight of her occasionally as she moves toward the southern gate, breaking into a canter as soon as she makes it past the disinterested guards.

Good. The sooner she is away from anyone who might keep her from me, the better.

“Ready, Fox?”

I don’t need to nudge him. I simply lean forward slightly, and he breaks into a gallop.

Madinia casts a look over her shoulder, eyes wide. Her mare is plucky, but the horse doesn’t have a chance at outrunning my stallion.

I don’t say a word as I ride up beside her. Madinia frees her foot from the stirrup and kicks out at me. Her mare jolts, almost unseating her.

A jolt of fear slices through the thrill. If the mare stumbles and throws her, she could die.

And then I’ll never get my grimoire.

That’swhat I’m concerned about. Not the thought of her head cracking open, her face frozen in death.

Madinia kicks out again, her face tight.

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