Page 29 of This Dark Descent
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll be dead.”
“Ari—”
A sharp thud cut her off as the boy to their left dropped like a sack of grain. A slender woman with dark curls spiraling about her oval face and a bored expression stood behind him, flexing her fingers in a set of brass knuckles.
“I’d like you to know,” she began in a soft rasp, “that beating up vagrants in a back alley was not on my list of things to do today.”
One of the boys lurched forward, but the newsboy caught him by the arm. “Her ring,” he hissed. The other boy took one look at the black and silver wing embedded on the woman’s ring before both bowed low.
“Apologies, Lady Adair,” the newsboy said. They didn’t even stop to check on their companion before both fled.
“Lady Adair?” Ari asked at the same time Mikira groaned, “Not another one.”
“You can call me Shira.” The woman toed the unconscious body beforeher with one boot. They were military style, made of thick black leather that went midway to her calf.
“What do you want?” Mikira asked with about as much tact as a stampeding horse. “And how did you find us?”
Shira’s lips quirked. “You’re my brother’s jockey.” Her gaze slid to Ari. “Which means you must be his latest project.”
Ari recoiled. “What?”
“Damien has a way of finding the lost and broken and putting them back together, and entirely in his debt, of course.” Shira waved an absentminded hand at her. “So tell me, what skill do you have that he wishes to possess? Connections with rival verillion growers? A talent for getting into places you don’t belong?”
It wasn’t lost on Ari that she and Mikira were a part of some grand plan of Damien’s, most notably winning his bet with Rezek, but hearing herself spoken of like a tool to be used made her hands curl. She was nobody’s pawn.
“My business with your brother is between us,” she replied.
Shira sighed, crossing her arms and leaning one shoulder against the alley wall. Her dark brown gaze was tired, but her posture was the lounge of a relaxing predator, an image aided by the array of knives strapped to her body in plain view.
“Are you so loyal to him already?” she asked pityingly.
Ari bristled. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know you’re keeping secrets for a man you hardly know from a woman who could slit your throat and leave you bleeding to death behind a pub owned by someone who will do whatever she tells them to. Like drop your body in the Grey weighted to sink.”
For the first time, it struck Ari exactly who she was talking to. This woman was no less a threat than her brother. Even dressed like an assassin in the night, Shira had all the wealth and power that came with being an Adair. Damien had told her that both of his siblings no longer lived at themanor; had they left on good terms, or would she and Mikira have been better off with the newsboy?
Mikira’s grip shifted subtly on her knives, and she angled herself between Ari and Shira. That was twice now she’d done that, thought to protect Ari before herself.
You could protect her instead, whispered the voice, and Ari shuddered as its solidity.
“But that would be far too much work. I’d much rather us be friends.” Shira pushed off the wall with a wink at Mikira, who seemed torn between defensiveness and utter perplexity.
“Come with me,” Shira said. “I’ll return you to my brother.”
When they didn’t follow immediately, she said over her shoulder, “Or you can take your chances with the mob.”
THEY RODE INsilence back to the manor, Mikira fidgeting nervously with her knives the whole way, despite the fact that Shira’s attention sat squarely on Ari. She kept thinking the woman would get tired of staring at her and look elsewhere, but she remained steadfast until the moment the carriage curved around the circular drive.
Ari was the first through the door, Mikira and Shira following. A light drizzle had picked up on their way home, and Damien and Reid stood under the cover of the porch on the manor steps. Someone must have seen the coach coming.
“We heard about the riot.” Damien descended the stairs to meet them. “Are you both okay?”
“They’re fine,” Shira answered, her attention on the boy at Damien’s back. “Hello, Reid.”
A flush filled Reid’s face, and he took one large step sideways behindthe nearest pillar. Widget, on the other hand, came trotting down to Shira, and she crouched to scratch behind his ears.
