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“That night on the balcony,” he said. “Why did you kiss me?”
Lila’s chest tightened. “It seemed like a good idea.”
Kell frowned. “That’s all?” He started to let go, but she didn’t. Their hands hung between them, intertwined.
Lila let out a short, breathless laugh. “What do you want, Kell? A declaration of my affection? I kissed you because I wanted to and—”
His hand tightened around hers, pulling her into him, her free hand splayed against his chest for balance.
“And now?” he whispered. His mouth was inches from her own, and she could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.
“What?” she said with a sly grin. “Do I always have to take the lead?” She started to lean in, but he was already there, already kissing her. Their bodies crashed together, the last of the distance disappearing as hips met hips and ribs met ribs and hands searched for skin. Her body sang like a tuning fork against his, like finding like.
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“I’m sorry,” teased Lila, “when did someone exchange my stalwart captain for a whining noble?”
“When did someone exchange my best thief for a thorn in the ass?”
“Ah,” she said, “but I’ve always been one of those.”
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“What happened?”
Lila dragged herself to a sitting position. “Nothing,” she muttered, getting to her feet. Blood was still sliding in fat drops down her fingers.
“This is nothing?”
Lila rolled her neck. “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she amended.
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Hastra paled, and Kell swept Lila up into his arms, amazed at her lightness. She took up so much space in the world—in his world—it was hard to imagine her being so slight. In his mind, she was made of stone.
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“He was meant to be your shield,” she murmured. “Your shelter. You were never meant to be his.”
Rhy shook his head, exasperated. “Kell isn’t the only one you fail to understand. My bond with him didn’t start with this curse. You wanted him to kill for me, die for me, protect me at all costs. Well, Mother, you got your wish. You simply failed to realize that that kind of love, that bond, it goes both ways. I would kill for him, and I would die for him, and I will protect him however I am able, from Faro and Vesk, from White London, and Black London, and from you.”
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Lila had always thought of secrets like gold coins. They could be hoarded, or put to use, but once you spent them, or lost them, it was a beast to get your hands on more.
Because of that, she’d always guarded her secrets, prized them above any take.
The fences back in Grey London hadn’t known she was a street rat.
The street patrols hadn’t known she was a girl.
She herself didn’t know what had happened to her eye.
But no one knew it was fake.
Lila dragged her fingers through the water one last time.
So much for that secret, she thought.
And she was running out of ones to keep.
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“Now,” said Kell, holding out his bloodied hand, palm up, as if to offer it. “Go back to the gallery.”
Losen’s eyes widened, but Brost’s temper was too high, and Sar was lusting for a fight. When none of them moved, Kell sighed. “I want you to remember,” he said, “that I gave you a chance.”
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