Page 48 of The Dagger and the Flame
The latter, thought Sera grimly.
‘What did Dufort call him just now? Ransom? More likehandsome.’ Bibi chuckled to herself. ‘I’m hilarious.’
Ransom.The Dagger’s name was Ransom. Living, breathing, seething Ransom. What the hell kind of a name was Ransom?
‘If the Cloaks and Daggers are serious about working together, then I suggest you use the time to explore this sizzling connection…’ Bibi waggled her brows. ‘If you get my meaning.’
Her meaning was as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face.
Sera shuddered. ‘I’d sooner kiss a corpse.’
Ransom was supposed tobea corpse.
Saints, she had really messed this up. She clutched her necklace – a world of impossibility clenched inside her fist – and felt its magic buzzing faintly against her fingers, as if to say,I am here. It brought her little comfort. Despite her constant prodding at it these last few nights, she still had no idea what it was, or how she could use it again.
It had rebelled against the Dagger’s attempts to kill her, shredding through his Shade, but it seemed not to mind when she donned Shade in the form of a cloak to hide herself. This little teardrop had a mind of its own. Or perhaps, somehow, it had come to know Seraphine’s mind.
She shook off her frustration, tried to shove away her fear. They had lingered long enough in the lions’ den. Gaspard Dufort didn’t have the answers they were looking for, and the longer Sera remained in his presence, the more danger she was in. Especially now his Dagger had seen her. ‘Let’s get out of here, Bibi.’
She stepped back from the pillar, stealing one last glance at Ransom. His murderous eyes were still fixed on her, his jaw so tense it looked like stone.
Despite the disguise offered by her cloak, leaving the Aurore unnoticed was no easy feat. The glow of the firelight flooded Primrose Square, leaving shadows few and far between. The girls moved slowly and carefully, hopping from one to the next, like vines on a tree. Sera’s heart thundered as she imagined Ransom tracking her, the Shade in his system blanching every speck of darkness in the square. She must look ridiculous to him, flailing and leaping about like a confused hare. But shewould rather his ireful gaze on her back than his hand around her neck again.
At last, they reached the edge of the square, where the pale-stone promenade, Ambler’s Walk, meandered south towards the heart of the city. Bibi slumped onto a bench and removed her hood. ‘I’m sweating. I need a breather.’ She untied her cloak and bundled it onto her lap.
Sera slipped off hers too. She had been wearing it for so long, the Shade had become heavy. Exhaustion tugged at her bones and made her head ache. She raked her hair back from her face, tying it into a knot at the nape of her neck.
‘Gaspard Dufort is even more odious in person,’ Bibi remarked. ‘Did you see all the gold in his mouth? It looks like he swallowed a coin purse.’ She paused, no doubt noticing the vacant look on Sera’s face. She was miles away, back in the plains, watching the flames rise to lick the blue sky and smelling that awful, choking smoke as she rounded the hill…
Bibi’s voice went quiet. ‘Are you feeling all right? Seeing him tonight must have been really difficult. Especially after… well…’ she trailed off.
‘He ordered my mother’s murder and then burned our farmhouse to the ground?’ Sera’s voice was hollow.Difficultwas not the word for what she felt.
Bibi bit her lip. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t have come.’
‘I’m all right,’ said Sera, putting her arm around Bibi, grateful for her new friend. At least she was not alone in her recklessness, even if they hadn’t gleaned very much from the trip. ‘Thank you for checking.’
They rolled to their feet, Sera tucking her cloak under herarm as they walked on. Despite the clear evening, fear hung like a thick mist over the city, keeping everyone inside. The monster attacks meant most of the restaurants and taverns were closed, and the few that dared to remain open would lock up once night fell in earnest.
‘We’re almost at Ondine’s,’ said Bibi, pointing ahead to a small cobbled courtyard strung with garlands and paper lanterns. All but two of the black wrought-iron tables were empty. ‘Do you fancy a quick bite to eat?’
Sera frowned, her trepidation warring with her hunger. She was starving, and the air smelled faintly like onion soup. Her favourite.
‘We’re miles from the harbour and it’s barely dusk,’ Bibi went on. ‘I’ve never seen Ondine’s so empty. I’d die for a slice of their bread-and-butter pudding. We wouldn’t even have to queue.’
Sera wavered. Deciding for both of them, Bibi strode ahead, waggling her fingers at the waiter.
Sera was about to follow her when something struck her from behind. A whip of shadow curled around her waist and yanked her off her feet. She dropped her cloak as she was swept into a nearby alley, a strangled cry catching in her throat. The shadow snapped and she stumbled from its grip. The teardrop warmed at her throat, that unknowable magic fighting back. She turned to run but real hands caught her this time, pulling her against a body much larger than hers.
She bucked and thrashed, and one of those hands found her mouth, trapping her scream. The voice in her ear rippled down her spine. ‘Hello, Seraphine.’
She knew that voice, that lilting promise of death. Fear roared in her ears. She kept fighting as she was dragged down the alley, hauled deep into the darkness, where water dripped from the peeling walls and the stench of refuse hung heavy in the air.
He spun her at the waist and pressed her back against the wall, a strong arm braced either side of her shoulders in case she tried to run.
Sera glared up into those all-too familiar eyes. The silver in them had faded, the last of it used on the shadow she had just shredded. Now, they were a perfect mix of hazel and rage.
‘You and I have unfinished business.’
