Page 99 of The Shadows Between Us
“I don’t recognize you,” a voice thick with drink says, pulling me from my thoughts.
A man with a bloated belly from too many nights indulging in drink looks me up and down.
“I’m new,” I manage to say, while finding my feet to resume my trek around the room’s edges.
“And fast. Get back here.”
A tug on my skirts nearly has me dropping the tray. Checking my irritation, I spin and hold out the tray. “Drink?”
“No. I need someone to keep me company at my table. I’ve made it a point to sample every lady Madam Dawson has under her employ.”
“I’m only a fill-in,” I say around the disgust crawling up my throat.
“Come here,” he says more forcefully.
Oh gods.
“This one’s already spoken for,” a new voice says, and my shoulders sink with relief.
Kallias.
He has his eyes on the horrible man propositioning me.
“Shove off,” the drunk man says. “I found her first.”
In just a few steps, Kallias grabs the tray from my hands and thrusts it upon the other man. “You’re welcome to fight me for her once you’re sober, but I think you know better than to try now.”
With one gloved hand clamped firmly along my bare arm, Kallias leads me to a table, weaving through men and girls as we go.
“Just give her back to me once you’re done!” the other man shouts after us.
I gag.
“Easy now,” Kallias says.
And before I can register anything else, Kallias is lowering himself into a chair, and I’m in his lap.
Just the knowledge of this has my neck heating.
“Never did see a blushing light-skirt,” a man on the other side of the table says. “Must be new on the job. Good on you, Remes. Your turn, by the way.”
One hand slides against my abdomen while the other picks up a hand of cards. I’m unfamiliar with the game, but Kallias must know it. He throws some necos onto the growing pile on the table and sets downa card before the man next to him takes a turn. There’s five of them at the table. I don’t recognize any of them. I suspect none are nobles currently living at the palace.
I feel warm breath against my ear as Kallias whispers, “Are you all right?”
I turn so I can look up at him, careful not to let my face get too close to his. “Yes.”
He presses his lips to my ear, where my wig keeps his face from touching me skin to skin. To the men around the table, we must look like we’re whispering flirtations.
I try to hide the shiver that goes down my spine from the contact, but I’m certain Kallias can feel it.
“What happened to your gloves?” he asks.
“The madam said they weren’t appropriate for my line of work.”
“We’ll have to be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
