Page 36 of The Dagger and the Flame
‘What wouldyouknow of honour?’
‘You’d be surprised, Seraphine.’
She hated the way he said her name. Like a deadly caress. ‘How long have you been following me?’
He narrowed his eyes, as if he was deciding whether to kill her outright or continue the conversation. A shadow curled around his arm, waiting to strike. More swarmed at his feet, straining to taste her. ‘Quite a while,’ he said. ‘But you already know that.’
‘For a Dagger, you’re not exactly subtle.’
He leaned forward and plucked a shard of glass from her hair. ‘For a Cloak, neither are you.’
She glowered up at him. ‘Stalker.’
‘I prefer the term assassin,’ he said, tossing it aside.
‘What aboutgutless prick?’
He stroked his stubbled jaw. ‘No, I don’t think I like that one.’
Sera’s eyes darted. Above her, the dogs were still barking. Below her lay the cobbled street and beside it the rushing waters of the Verne, too far down to reach. And even then, the current would sweep her away. Or she could hop down ontothe narrow walkway beside the balustrade, but she’d have to fight him for a foothold. And he had every advantage. He was a foot taller than her, broad-shouldered, with strong arms and long legs. Then there were those violent quicksilver eyes and the arsenal of shadows at his disposal.
He was Death itself.
But she was not dying tonight. No. She refused to let it end like this.
She just needed a second to think.
He flexed his fingers, shadows wreathing his knuckles as he stepped towards her. ‘Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, we should come to the matter at hand,’ he drawled.
‘Wait.’
To Sera’s surprise, he halted, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. ‘What for?’
‘You killed my mother.’ The words burst from her in a rush of desperation. ‘You burned our home to the ground. You destroyed everything.Why?’
‘That wasn’t me.’
‘So, you’re a liaranda murderer.’ She curled her lip, recalling all too easily the memory of him standing over Mama in the smoke. ‘Aren’t you proud of it?’
Shadows swelled at his back, blotting out the stars, and she could have sworn she’d managed to piss him off. ‘I don’t play with fire, Seraphine.’
‘Stop saying my name.’
‘What would you prefer, dancing swan? Angry swan, perhaps?’
He seemed to be enjoying their conversation. Or at the veryleast, indulging in it. But the more she talked, the longer she lived. ‘Tell me, Dagger,’ she said, jutting out her chin. ‘Doyouhave a name?’
That prompted a low chuckle. ‘You haven’t earned it.’
‘And what will my death earn you? A pat on the back from Dufort? A kiss on the forehead at bedtime?’
He stiffened, smirk vanishing. ‘Enough stalling. You’re wasting time.’
Sera carefully released the gargoyle. ‘And you’re going to hell.’
‘Maybe,’ he said with a shrug. ‘But not tonight.’
She shot to her feet and stumbled backwards along the narrow ledge, fighting for balance. He watched her struggle with mild interest.
