Page 101 of Hexbound
It wasn't the first time she'd subconsciously sought him for protection. Bishop rested a hand in the small of her back. Verity was starting to look at him with eyes filled with wonder. He hadn't missed what it meant. After all, they'd been as close as two souls could be last night. He knew what she thought of him.
It scared the hell out of him, even as a part of him yearned for it.
Even now, with his gaze roving the shadows and nooks of the rooftops, he couldn't help caressing the taffeta of her gown. A part of him felt the same way as she did. She was his.
Just as a part of him knew that he couldn't have her. Not forever. After all, how long did he have? The restless hunger of themaladroiseached in his bones. It had been too long between kills. Too long since he'd felt that rush. He yearned for it, ached for it... almost as much as he ached for Verity. If there was one hint of light in his dark world, it was her.
But how long would that last against the onslaught of themaladroise?
Here and now, he told himself again.Just focus on now. But was that fair to Verity? Especially when it was her heart he would break when he was forced to sever all ties with her.
They finally came to an old theatre. Guards lined the entrance, but one of them tipped their head in a gesture to enter. Verity strode calmly through, and the theatre opened into a wide room with no roof. It resembled an ancient Roman amphitheater, with rows of stone stands built around a central stage.
Leaders of six of the seven Hex gangs sat in a semicircle waiting for them.
"Madame Noir." The enormous man in the front leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he locked gazes with Verity. "Kindly explain, if you will."
His hair and beard were both long and dense, and while streaks of gray silvered his temples, Bishop could sense the power in the fellow. Tattoos scrawled up the backs of his hands and throat, though the heavy oilskin coat he wore obscured most of his body.
This one was dangerous.
Verity gave a brief bow of her head. "Mr. Perkins. Forgive the intrusion. May I present Ianthe Devereaux, Lady Rathbourne, Seneschal of the Order—"
"We know who she is," said the woman at Perkins's side, with her blind eyes locked on Ianthe.
"Her husband, Lord Rathbourne," Verity continued, as if nobody had said a word. "This is Mr. Adrian Bishop, ah—"
"Seventh level sorcerer," Bishop interrupted smoothly, seeing her hesitation. How did one introduce an assassin?
Verity looked at him gratefully. "May I introduce Hex Perkins of the Black Cats; Paddy O'Reilly of the Clover Lads;"—the redheaded fellow beside Perkins—"Queen Mab of the White Rabbits;"—an old broad wearing a tricorne hat pulled low over her matted hair—"Jordy Lewis and his sister, Hesther, who lead the Nameless;"—a man with a shaved head and hex marks tattooed all over his scalp, and the blind woman at his side—"Gionni Sabatini of the Incubo Boys; and Madame Rose of the Reaper crew."
Sabatini stroked his thin mustache, a gold ring glinting at his ear. "You forgot one, Madame Noir."
Daniel Guthrie stalked onstage, smirking at her as he sank into the chair left vacant for the One-Eyed Crows.
"We've already met," Bishop replied coolly, and the Lewis siblings shifted as though he'd drawn a knife.
Silence fell.
"Well, that's all good an' all," Paddy O'Reilly muttered. "But you broke Code, Verity."
"Let no sorcerer walk among us," Madame Rose added, curling her gnarled fingers over the ends of her chair.
Ianthe stepped up beside Verity, her skirts rustling. "Then I believe it is we who broke the Code," she stated clearly, her voice ringing through the rafters of the burned-out building. "Or perhaps, we should say one of your own stole something that belongs to us, hence drawing us to the Dials."
Guthrie's lip curled up. "Verity brought it directly into my house. That means it belongs to me."
Eight sets of eyes slid toward him. Bishop smiled, enjoying watching the man sweat.
“Did you take something that belonged to the Order?” Hex Perkins drawled, and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. “Knowing you risked the lives of the Hex?”
"That's bullshit," Guthrie snapped, gesturing at Bishop. "She brought him into the Dials days ago, claiming she were working for him now. That's a direct violation of our laws. You don't bring sorcerers sniffing around the Dials."
Bishop had had enough. He stepped forward, toying with the tip of his leather glove. "Let's get the details straight. Ten days ago, Verity appeared in my house to steal an item belonging to the Order, on the command of Colin Murphy." He tilted a head toward Guthrie. "Your predecessor. When Murphy went to complete the handover of the item to the person who'd commissioned the theft, he was killed and Verity knifed. Since she was in the vicinity of my house, she fled there for protection and she and I have worked out a deal. Verity was to find and return the object to me in order to keep relations between the Hex Society and the Order cordial. She found the relic, but in the process was forced to return to the One-Eyed Crows, where you took the relic away from her."
"This is a very important relic," Ianthe pointed out, "used to summon and control a greater demon from the Shadow Dimensions. Verity was doing us a great favor in assisting with its recovery. If there is any blame to be laid here, I lay it at the feet of Colin Murphy, who perhaps overstepped his grounds, and"—her gaze shifted toward Guthrie—"Mr. Guthrie here, who believes in the rule of finders, keepers."
The other gang heads eyed each other.
