101
" Shocking," said one of a pair of fashionable young ladies seated upon a bench. She lifted her newspaper closer to her nose, scanning the print by the waning light.
The spectacular loss of the Monfield gemsones was included in all five evening editions of the London papers.
"Indeed," agreed the other, smoothing the pleats of her petticoat. "They didn't even mention the bracelet. And it is particularly fine."
The first woman lowered her paper. "You know that wasn't what I meant, Rue."
"Wasn't it? Oh. I suppose then you were referring to the midnight duel in which the valiant duke fought off the thief before being overcome by the fellow's kick to his nether regions. That is rather shocking, I concur. I can't imagine how anyone could reach past that royal belly for a good kick."
"Rue," said the other woman, but her gray eyes were narrowed with mirth.
"Plus, it was well after midnight. My legs were beginning to cramp in that miniscule closet."
"Rue."
"Yes?"
"A lady does not gloat."
-Mim & Rue "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
103
" Are the family lists complete yet?" he asked George.
"Aye, my lord. We've gathered the names of every possible successful runner for the last forty years. Not many men, I'll tell you that. Six at most, and all were thought to be very much dead. Four apparently lost to fire-you remember the blaze that leveled the tavern in '33-one to drowning, and one bloke to, ah, wolves."
Kit raised his brows. "Wolves?"
"That's what his son said. Stirling Jacobs was his name. Liked to hunt at dawn. Liked a challenge. Known to venture out beyond our boundaries. Bones were found, possibly his. That's all."
"How old would this man be now?"
"Let's see...nearing eighty, I'd say."
Kit gazed at him over the mess of china and papers.
"Your instructions were to consider everyone." George shifted in the chair, uneasy. "And I've bloody well considered everyone."
-Kit & George "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
105
" Sun's down," muttered one of the guardsmen by the windows.
"Then it's time." Grady made to push away from the table, and the rest began to follow.
"No," said Kit.
Grady paused with his palm pressed flat against the tabletop; all the other men froze. "What?"
"No," Kit said once more, very polite. "Be seated. All of you."
"Why are we wasting-"
"Be seated."
Even his old nemesis knew to obey that tone. It sliced across the room slick as steel, resounding into silence. The guard at the window let fall the drapery, a soft stir of cloth that barely touched the air.
He could almost feel his father's ghost, watching, waiting.
Christoff remained silent until they were done, until the last of them had sunk into nervous attention, staring at him through the gloom.
"I claim her," he said. "I will hunt her alone."
Grady twitched. "But-"
"I claim her," he repeated, silkier and more deadly than before. "She is mine. And if you have issue with that-any of you-I invite you to tell me now. We'll settle it here. I will not abide insubordination."
Reckless, red-faced, Grady shot back to his feet. Kit was on his own in half a heartbeat, his arm slashing out, a streak of metal flashing across the table.
The stiletto struck deep into the wall mere inches behind the other man's head, the hilt of carnelian and worked gold an ominous blur against the silk.
Silently, weightlessly, the outermost curl of Parrish Grady's wig drifted down to the dining table, settling feather-light against the dark wood.
No one else moved; no one spoke.
"I beg your pardon," said Kit cordially into the hush. "Was there something you wished to say?"
Grady looked down at the severed lock, then back up at Kit. His throat worked, though no sound came out. Slowly, in awkward motion, he resumed his seat.
"Excellent." Christoff sent a cold smile around the room. "Anyone else?"
-a guardsmen, Grady, & Kit "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
106
" It wasn't only you, Lord Langford. It was this place, these people. This life. I want nothing to do with it."
"It's a bit late for that, Rue. Whether you like it or not, we are your blood."
"Half my blood."
"Aye," agreed the marquess, sober. "Although 'twould seem you've gotten the better half by far. All beauty, none of the beast."
She blinked at that, and crossed her arms.
"How charming! Had you planned that for long?"
"Only since this morning." He shrugged, unabashed. "I'll do better in London."
"Please, don't bother."
"I'm afraid I can't help myself. I'm charming by nature." And he looked back at her now in utter and wicked innocence, snaring her in a world of sharp, splendid green.
-Rue & Kit "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
109
" He straightened. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
He nodded, his gaze traveling the length of her body, deliberately, slowly, as if to memorize her as she stood.
"Then may I have a kiss?" he asked, unmoving. "For luck?"
She felt her heart pick up. She felt her face grow hot.
"You see? I'm asking, not demanding." He lifted his hands to her, palms up.
"Even the most beastly of us can learn."
Rue dropped her gaze to the ground, discomfited. "I don't think you're beastly."
"Thank goodness. I was about to point out that that fellow down there has far worse breath than I do."
She laughed softly, shaking her head, but by then his fingers were curling around hers.
"Is that a yes, mouse?"
She inhaled: heat, and animal. Him.
Rue lifted her chin. "Yes."
Everything happened so gently at first, so languidly, as his hands drew hers behind his back so that she had to step toward him, so that their fronts had to touch. As soon as they did his fingers released; he smoothed his palms up her back, one hand at her waist and the other rising to cradle her head. She felt her hair bunch and slide with the passage of his fingers. She felt the cool air on her skin, and the welcome warmth of his chest and stomach and hips. His eyes roamed her face with that half-lidded intensity; she brought up a hand to the slope of his shoulder, resting it there. They stood there together in the open dark, soft and hard, while her stomach tied in knots and her hair stirred with the breeze.
She wet her lips, nervous. "Are...are you going to do it?"
"I am." His head tilted to hers. She felt his lips against her cheek, light, thistledown, barely there. "I just..."
"What?" she whispered, staring out into the shadows.
"I just like looking at you."
So when he kissed her she was smiling a little, her lips curved under his. Kit loved that curve.
-Kit & Rue "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
110
" I confess, as much as I enjoy you in breeches, you hold up that gown rather well."
She studied him through the eyeholes. "You truly have stopped trying to be charming."
"You're the most ravishing creature in the world, sweet Rue, even when hidden behind feathers and beads. How was that?"
"Adequate, if insincere."
"Then you mistake me." He took up her free hand and pressed her fingertips to his lips, gold to gold, sending a flash of sudden, sensual warmth stealing up her arm. His voice dropped to a huskier note. "I am utterly sincere."
-Kit & Rue "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)
113
" There are things in this world," she said steadily, still holding Zane's eyes, "that defy easy words. There are things in this world worth protecting, fragile things, secret things. Things that would do great harm should they ever be handled carelessly."
"Rue." The marquess loomed just beyond her.
"Things like magic." She touched a finger to Zane's cheek, a shock of warmth. "Things like love."
-Rue, Zane, & Kit "
― Shana Abe , The Smoke Thief (Drakon, #1)