towards Esme.
He was right, Gavin realized.
If there had been the slightest chance that Esme could come to harm at his hands, he’d want one of his brothers there to protect her.
Even if the thought did rankle.
“I don’t think I’ve been so honorably chaperoned for years,” she said lightly.
She turned towards Gavin. “Ready to go back up and over? The night is still young, and we have things to do.”
He didn’t answer, just grinned, warmed from the inside out at her trust, and swung her up into his arms.
Jormoi kept pace with them in his cat form, shifting back in a haze of blue lightning when they landed softly on the other side.
“I did have time for a chat with Hendrick right before those bastards attacked you,” he nodded towards Esme. “He says none of his runners have seen or heard of any groups of children brought into the city.”
Esme stiffened in Gavin’s arms, and suddenly she seemed fragile again.
Gavin set her down gently, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist.
“Then we move on tomorrow,” she said softly. “And hope they’re in Raccelton. Hope it’s not too late.”
16
For a man of Gavin’s size, he could certainly move silently through the night, Esme reflected.
Perhaps it wasn’t that surprising, considering…
As they headed back to Mistress Neve’s inn, Esme let her mind loose to wonder about that, rather than fall into another endless spiral of worry about the missing children.
What sort of cat would Gavin be?
A giant one, no question about that.
She looked up at his strong jaw line, moonlight frosting his golden hair.
Something bigger, wilder than Jormoi’s compact form.
Why had he never shown her this other side to himself?
Maybe it was a private thing, but she’d seen Jormoi shift twice, no three times now.
Lost in speculation, before she realized it, they’d scaled the wall of the inn and she found herself in Mistress Neve’s most comfortable room again.
Gavin moved to the far corner of the room, and she stared at the bed.
Earlier, it hadn’t seemed quite so impossible.
She’d slept beside friends for years, and never thought twice.
Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a bed to herself.
But after that kiss...
Her hand drifted to her mouth, still remembering the feel of him, how lightning seemed to run through her with every touch, somehow binding them more tightly together than she could’ve imagined.
A gentle cough came from behind her.
“Let’s turn in,” Gavin said as he kicked off his boots and stretched out on the floor by the door, dressed only in the trousers and vest she’d first seen him wearing.
“You don’t really think anyone’s going to come in that way, do you?” she tilted her head.
“I doubt it,” he answered. “They might try, but it’s not going to work.” His smile faded. “Stop worrying. We can’t do anything right now, and it’ll just tire you out for tomorrow.”
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.
She blew out the lantern, pulled off her vest and leggings and crawled between the smooth sheets in just the short dress.
It had been a long day, longer by far than traveling with the clan, sitting in that uncomfortable wagon and then feeling pressed in by the walls around the town.
Tela’s brush with the strange man, and the fire that had threatened Hendrick’s clan, and…
She drifted away, barely conscious of the blurred boundaries between her exhausted thoughts and dreams.
Esme was in a cage.
She’d been here before. The thick scent of fear permeated the air around her, wrapping around her throat, choking her.
A child’s muffled crying was nearly drowned out by the sound of machinery, and the harsh voices of men shouting.
Nearly.
Here again, she thought, then shook herself.
It wasn’t again, it was still.
Wasn’t it?
It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense.
But still, the cavernous dark room, the tiny cells, the thin blanket she clutched around her shoulders for warmth.
She knew it somehow.
“You’re rushing the testing,” an older man’s thin voice suddenly rang clear. “You can’t possibly get reliable results that way.”
“Some of us would like to see results before we die.” The second man’s voice was deeper, stronger. “Just because you’ve given up on your own reward doesn’t mean the rest of us have.”
“I’ll take this to the Council,” the older man argued.
A harsh laugh echoed, the sound somehow terrifying.
“Do you really think they’re going to stop me? We know what they want. And I plan to deliver it.”
Esme huddled in the back corner of her cell, the freezing metal bars pressing into her skin.
And then