Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,33
the moment as she pushed through the last of the crowd and through the battered door out into the cool open night.
Taking a long draw of the clean air, Quinn started for the main road that would lead her back to the Moonlight Inn. What she was going to do to get back inside when she got there … that was an open question. Climbing back up wouldn’t be an option and going through the lobby would just attract attention, not to mention piss off Lorraine who would just run her mouth to Lazarus. Quinn gnawed on her bottom lip as she looked at the night sky wondering if tonight would just bring more of those terrible dreams when she returned or if she’d finally get some peace.
She could sleep in the stables for a few hours and pretend she had gotten up early to look after the horses, she thought. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was something.
The tavern door smacked against the wooden frame drawing Quinn’s attention. She didn’t need to glance behind her to know who had followed. The real question was how she felt like handling them.
Her tongue lightly trailed over the edge of her teeth as she swiped her thumb across her bottom lip. They’d each had multiple drinks tonight, and that was after stumbling into the tavern—who knew what else they’d taken before they’d arrived. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to think they might pass out in a ditch on the side of the road. No, Quinn thought, not unreasonable at all. Quinn slipped her hand under the edge of her tunic, pulling the dagger from its sheath.
She slowed a little, purposefully pretending to look down the dark alley—and not at them—before turning onto the narrowed street. She paused, rolling her eyes when sloppy footsteps came barreling down the alley behind her.
She turned around, facing the three that thought to follow her. A light breeze blew down through the streets, whipping her hair behind her. They didn’t notice the dark tendrils forming at her fingertips. Not when it was only moonlight and shadow.
“Hello, boys,” Quinn purred. Her voice husky and filled with a lovely hint of a dark promise. They slowed to a stop before her, the one on the far-right squinting into the night, confused. They’d expected her to run or beg. They expected screaming. They expected fear.
These children had absolutely no clue who or what they were dealing with.
“How’d you do it?” Hook-nose asked, cruelty and dark intention lined his expression. He wasn’t here for a friendly chat. Quinn smiled spitefully. She wasn’t either.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, and what a great liar she was. That last hand had only had half the cards it needed when she grew impatient and crafted an illusion to change the cards they saw. Maybe she should have let them win once. Not much that she could do about that now. They’d followed her, not the other way around. In her mind, that meant her hands were washed. Her sins absolved before they even got started.
She’d wandered out into the night hoping for something to entertain her, craving that brief taste of freedom. Trouble found her as it always did, and deep down Quinn knew this was what she really sought. This was what the restless magic that writhed in her veins was searching for.
“You’re lying,” he said, taking a step forward. His eyes traveled up and down the length of her body. “You know what we do to liars here?” He licked his lips and Quinn’s stomach turned. Not with fear, but disgust. Her lip curled back.
“We should teach ya somethin’ better to do with that pretty mouth of yours,” the third one said. “Somethin’ much better than tellin’ lies.” He was the shortest, but broad-chested. Quinn narrowed her eyes on them as the two took a step forward.
Her heart hammered in her chest—slow, steady—but the sound of blood pounding filled her ears. Fear and excitement swirled through her, sliding through her veins. It was both a poison and a cure in that potent combination. She didn’t feel fear like others did—but instead absorbed theirs and used it, manipulated it, to make her stronger.
In her, fear was something darker, something other. She felt no desire to run or flee or beg or cry. Instead, she felt powerful. Invincible. Drunken bastards thought to corner her in an alley, and not a single one of them had even an inkling that it was her who