chair, hands at rest on her blade. Mia slipped out the door, quiet as cats, her footfalls barely a whisper on the bare floorboards. She stole down the end of the corridor, through a creaking door, and out onto a balcony overlooking the docks. The wind was bitter cold, the rain still spitting, and it took three attempts to light her cigarillo. She breathed a plume of clove-scented gray, eyes narrowed against the smoke. Watching the steel-dark waters lapping against the jetties, the ships at berth, her eyes drifting past the Thorn Towers and their twists of razorvine to The Pub nestled down the boardwalk. Thoughts turning to the pale boy sitting by its hearth, patient as the dead.
“THE ONLY WEAPON IN THIS WAR IS FAITH.”
Mia shook her head. Still unsure what to believe, or where she’d find any faith in the midst of all this. She remembered Tric’s words at that ruined tower—his confession that he’d given up his place at the Hearth so he could come back for her. The thought frightened her, saddened her, and, yes, in some way, excited her. There was an allure in being so utterly wanted. To think she had such power over a boy that he’d defy death itself to stand by her side.
She remembered the feel of him inside her. The press of his hands against her. Wondering what it would be like now to touch him. Kiss him. Fuck him.
Licking her lips, she tasted sugar from the cigarillo paper, the smoke setting her tongue tingling. She pressed her thighs together, slipped one hand down the front of her britches, savoring the ache. Looking at the road ahead of her and wondering exactly where it ended. Where she might like it to. Skin like marble and eyes like truedark and clever fingers roaming all the way down …
“All right, enough,” she growled.
She dragged the last breath out of her smoke, crushed it underheel. Tossing her windblown hair from her face, she slipped back inside, closing the door against the bitter, clawing wind. Wondering if she should head downstairs to check on—
A dark shape hit her as she turned, one hand at her neck, another grasping her wrist. She gasped, crushed back against the wall, her free hand fumbling for her sword as she felt a hard body pressed up against her, warm lips against her cheek, her throat. A flash of blond hair. A hint of lavender perfume.
“Ash?” she hissed. “’Byss and blood, I could’ve—”
Ash silenced her with a kiss, lips crushed to hers, hands slipping under her shirt and tracing lines of delightful featherlight fire along her hips, into the small of her back. Mia’s heart was thumping from fright as Ash’s hands slipped down into her britches and squeezed her arse. Mia dragged her mouth away, Ash biting her lower lip as they parted.
“What the ’byss are you doing?” Mia whispered.
“Waiting for you to sneak out for a smoke,” Ash smiled, smoothing a lock of Mia’s hair from her face. “Knew you’d be fiending for it. I fell asleep, though. You almost got the slip on me, bitch.”
“If you wanted a snog in the hallway you could’ve asked.”
“Not asking.” Ash shook her head. “Taking.”
She kissed Mia again, mouth open, deep as shadows. Mia sighed as she felt Ash’s hand sliding across her belly, slipping down the front of her britches where Mia’s hand had been a moment before. A soft moan slipped over her lips as Ashlinn kissed her neck, nibbling, nuzzling, setting her shivering and sinking back against the wall. Her legs parted slightly, her heart racing, and not from her fright.
Ash’s lips brushed her ear. “I got us a second room.”
“… What?”
“When I booked the first. Just for us. For the night.”
Mia laughed softly. “Devious bitch.”
“I’ve been aching for you since you knocked that bastard’s teeth out, Mia Corvere,” Ashlinn whispered. “It gets my blood up, watching you win.”
Mia groaned as Ash’s fingers moved between her legs. “What about…”
“Your brother’s with ’Singer and the others,” Ash murmured, lips brushing her throat. “Safe as he can be. They can spare you for an hour or two. Goddess knows when we’ll have time again.”
Ash reached up under Mia’s shirt with her free hand, drawing whisper-soft circles across her breasts, tightening spirals around her hardening nipples. Her breath was hot, urgent on Mia’s neck, her fingers working a blinding magik between her legs.
“I want you,” Ash whispered.
“O, Goddess…”
“I want you.”
Mia slipped her fingers into Ash’s hair, dragged her up into