stare to the twin circles branded on her cheek. “What’s your name, slave?”
“Ash, let’s go,” Mia said, leading her away.
The two other thugs moved to cut off their escape. The crowd closed in a little tighter, obviously enjoying the sport. Mia felt a slow spark of anger in her chest, drowning out her fear. Trying to reel it in before it burst into flame. Without Mister Kindly in her shadow, she had the option to be cautious here. To let her fear have its sway. She knew starting a ruckus wouldn’t end well.
Hold your temper.
“I asked you your name, girl,” Monocle said.
“We seek no quarrel with you, Mi Don,” Mia said, turning to face him.
“Well, you’ve found it all the same.” The lad stepped up to her, glowering. “The crew of the Hangman aren’t the kind to brook insult from freshwater tarts, eh, lads?”
The two behind folded their arms and murmured agreement.
Hold. Your. Temper.
“Unless … you can think of a way to make amends?”
A smile curled the corner of Monocle’s mouth.
Hold.
Your …
And reaching down slow, he placed his hand on Mia’s breast.
… All right, fuck it, then.
Her knee collided with his groin the way falling comets kiss the earth. A flock of gulls burst from a nearby cathedral spire and took to the sky, shrieking, and every male within a four-block radius shifted in his seat. Mia grabbed the lad by the noose and slammed his face into the edge of the bar. There was a sickening wet crunch, a horrified gasp from the onlookers, and the lad collapsed, lips mashed to mince, the splintered remains of four teeth still embedded in the wood.
One of the thugs reached for Mia, but Ashlinn punched him square in the throat, sending him reeling backward, wide-eyed and gagging. She fell atop him, snatched up one of the fallen tankards, and started pounding it into his face. The second reached for the nearest weapon that came to hand—a wine bottle, which he smashed upon the edge of the bar to craft what was colloquially known as a “Liisian jester.”* But as he stepped up, Mia curled her fingers, and his shadow dug into the soles of his boots.
The lad stumbled, falling forward, and Mia helped his descent by grabbing both his ears and bringing his face down into her knee. Another ghastly crunch rang out as the boy’s nose popped across his cheek like a burst blood sausage. Mia put a boot to his ribs for good measure, rewarded with a lovely fresh crack.
Ash finished up her tankard work. She turned to look at Mia, chest heaving, a savage grin on her face. Mia licked her lip, tasted blood, dragging her eyes away from the girl to the crowd around them. She pointed to her breasts with bloody hands.
“No touching save by request.”
One of the scullery maids burst into applause. Folk in the crowd looked at each other, shrugging assent. The band picked up their tune and everyone turned back to their drinks. Mia grabbed Ash’s hand, pulled her up off the fallen privateer. Ash pressed close, still a little out of breath, looking from Mia’s eyes to her lips.
“I’d like to make a request for touching, please.”
Mia smacked Ash’s arse and grinned, and Bladesinger pushed her way through the mob. Sidonius and Butcher soon found them, holding Jonnen’s hands. They stood together in the crowded common room, speaking in hushed voices.
“Think we’ve attracted enough notice for one nevernight,” Sid growled.
“Should we go elsewhere?” Ash asked. “Avoid undue attentions?”
“Aye,” Butcher said. “You don’t fuck with the salted in this city. We should head to another inn, far from this one as we can get and still be in Amai.”
“Corleone was supposed to meet us here,” Sid pointed out.
“We can leave word for Tric with the doorman,” Mia said. “It’s not like he sleeps anyways. He can wait here and watch for when Cloud arrives.”
“If he fucking arrives,” Butcher growled.
Mia looked at the crowd around them, caught a few sideway glances. Adrenaline was running through her veins after the brawl, her heart beating quick. Mister Kindly’s absence left her empty, and Eclipse was still riding Jonnen, so she was left with her fear. Fear of reprisals. Fear for what could happen if Corleone left them hanging. Fear for Mercurio, for Ash, her brother, herself.
She looked at the bloodstains on her hands. Realized they were shaking.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
CHAPTER 22
VIPERS
Adonai was hungry.
It had only been two hours since last he fed. A deep