Page 113 of Book of Night
“I guess there’s an archery school. And a place where you can learn how to swing a broadsword.” There was a slight slur to her voice that made him wonder if the flush in her cheeks was as much from liquor as warmth.
“In case I want to slay a dragon.”
Her nails were ragged at the edges, the nail polish chipped from her biting them. “Do you?”
A quick glance showed him that Knight Singh had arrived. He sat in a booth at the far end of the room. Knight’s people had positioned themselves in strategic locations so that once they spotted Vince, they could close in and cut him off from the exits. He counted five.
Definitely a setup. Vince eyed the nearby fire door the crowd was trying to press him into.
“Want to slay dragons?” he echoed. “I don’t want to slay anything.”
The bartender walked by and dropped a receipt in front of her, and seemed about ready to ask Vince if he wanted another round.
She lifted it and eyed the guy. “What’s this?”
He shrugged. “Your bill.”
“Maybe I wanted another drink,” she said, ground glass in her voice.
“So pay for the last one.” He wore an arrogant little smile, aware he ruled the bar.
She leaned toward him, her voice loud enough that people waiting for their drinks could hear her. “I’ve been sitting here watching you short pour the guests, give people the wrong change, use sour mix instead of lime juice, and wipe down the counters straight into the ice bin,” she told him, reaching into her bag and pulling out a handful of coins. “You’re going to burn in bartender hell.”
“You’re drunk,” he said defensively.
“If I am, it’s despite you.” She counted out what she owed in quarters and dimes, leaving him as many pennies as she could find at the bottom of her purse.
She turned to Vince, and the fire hadn’t gone out of her eyes. “You think I’m petty, right?”
He thought she was everything Remy had been afraid to be. “I think you’re a vigilante,” he said, smiling.
She contemplated him for a long moment. “Come outside with me,” she said. “It’s too hot in here.”
Vince was torn. If he left with her, Knight and his people would be less likely to spot him. Walking beside her, his missing shadow could be easily overlooked.
But part of him wondered if Knight had come there expecting to be set up himself. If the gloamist was taking precautions instead of making a move against Vince, then the situation was still salvageable.
What hewanted,though, was to go outside with the woman.
He got out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills.
She took his hand and led him toward the door.
He watched the confident sway of her hips. She walked through the bar as though she expected everyone to get the hell out of her way. And, amazingly, they did. “I’m Vince,” he told her.
But her gaze was on Knight Singh, recognition in her expression. Then her gaze slid back to Vince. “Charlie,” she said, pointing to herself. “Charlie Hall.”
Vince had counted five gloamists, but that didn’t mean Knight hadn’t hired people who weren’t gloamists.
People like Charlie.
She might lead him around the back of the bar and sink a knife in his side. And if he was lucky, that was when Knight Singh’s people would restrain him and sell him back to Salt. If he wasn’t lucky, she’d have orders to finish him off.
The cold air of the alley hit his face and he felt a rush of indifference toward risks. Helikedher. He liked that she was mean and funny and willing to make a scene.
He liked that she was nothing like him, or anyone from his old life.
He liked her enough to follow her deeper into the alley, despite his suspicions. When she turned against the brick facade of the building and threw him a look that felt like a dare, he pressed her back against the wall and kissed her.
