Page 71 of Hexbound
"What happened?"
"There was something Winthrop wanted me to do. I refused."
Verity curled her knees up to her chest as the carriage rocked. "He wanted you to kill someone," she said, with some certainty.
"Some locals who were protesting British rule." Bishop's shrug was loose and uncaring, but she saw the tension about his eyes. "They were just... trying to protect their homes, and he wanted me to obliterate them like they were naught more than insects. And the last thing I needed at the time was to kill someone else. I'm sure Winthrop would have killed me if we didn't have witnesses—if my father wasn't who he was—but instead he shipped me back home in disgrace, where I was brought before the Order Triad Council for blatant refusal to do my duties and endangering the cause of the Empire. And Agatha was one of the Councilors."
Someone else.... Verity was dangerously curious about his first kill but to satisfy her curiosity right now would only come with the cost of his grief. Instead, she simply reached out and held his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "You're no killer, are you?"
"I'm an assassin." He looked down.
"Yes, but at heart, if you had the choice, you'd never take another life again, would you?"
"Verity...." He let go of her hand and turned his face away from her, revealing the scars that lined his jaw and temple. He was usually more careful than that. "Sometimes we don't get that choice. I know I will kill again. I know... that a part of me will like it."
She nibbled on her nail. The steady tug of the leash was veering to her right. "Give me a moment. The location's changing. Horroway's on the move." Sticking her head through the window, she pointed out the new direction to the driver, who shook his head but turned the carriage.
By the time she'd found her seat again, Bishop had regained his composure and clearly didn't want to speak anymore on the topic. Verity took pity on him. "Goodness," she muttered, tapping her nails on the carriage door. "Could we be going any slower?"
Bishop arched a brow, his arms crossed. "Impatient little chit, aren't you?"
"Well, technically you're the one slowing me down. I could be halfway there already."
Bishop's arms sprawled along the back of the seat. "Am I?" he drawled. "I assume you can simply hop across the city, and catch our erstwhile necromancer before I have time to scratch my nose?"
"I could, but it can be dangerous. I don't like making blind leaps. So I'd have to move from place to place."
"Blind leaps?"
She dragged her sleeve off her shoulder, revealing the scar there. Bishop's brown eyes locked on it. "This happened when I was younger. Took a blind jump into a White Rabbits warehouse and skewered myself on a hook. It's best if I can see the area first to prepare myself for a landing. I prefer at least knowing the layout." Memory resurfaced. "Trapped myself in a wall once too." And hadn't that been humiliating?
"Younger?" he asked. "It looks like it's barely faded."
"Oh, all right, I was sixteen, so only a couple of years ago."
That tightened the line of his mouth.
"My age bothers you, doesn't it?" she asked innocently.
"I don't see why it should," Bishop replied, but he looked away.
Verity examined him, then bit her lip with a smile. A second later she was perched on his knee, and Bishop's arms wrapped around her in surprise as she re-formed.
"Jesus." He stiffened.
"I'm a grown woman, Adrian," she whispered, stroking a finger down his collar. The hard flex of his chest filled out his coat quite nicely. "One doesn't maintain their innocence very long in Seven Dials, and besides that, I'll be all of twenty in a month. And look...." She cupped her breasts, the fabric and her hands molding to the soft flesh. "I think this means that I'm definitely a woman."
"Verity!" He caught her wrists, drawing them away from her breasts, his nostrils flaring. "Verity, we're in public."
"A closed carriage is hardly public," she whispered in his ear, earning another flinch from him. Her fingers went to the buttons on his coat. "In fact it's very, very private indeed. I wonder just what we could do to pass the time?"
"I think we could talk. About what happened last night."
Verity stilled, shooting him a look. "That was a low blow. I was embarrassed. That's why I fled."
"I think it's more than that."
"And I think that you are wearing entirely too many clothes." She shook off his attempts to make this deeper than it was. A good night's sleep had assuaged the doubt she'd felt last night. She liked him, and she liked his company. She didn't have to fall for him though. She was far too clever for that. Biting her lip, Verity slid his coat off his shoulders. "That's better."
