Page 75 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

I shrug, unbothered by his clearly annoyed tone. “The rest of the world is awake,” I say. “I didn’t exactly expect you to still be abed like a lazy good-for-nothing asshole.” Lie. I had totally expected him to still be in bed. To say I’m surprised by the woman lying next to him would be yet another lie.

I prop myself against the doorframe as the woman wakes up enough to realize that they’re no longer alone. A sharp scream echoes out of her throat as the pretty brunette jerks up and grabs ahold of the blankets, yanking them nearly up to her face. It takes all of my self-control not to burst out laughing as she practically rips them free of Regis’ lap as well. He barely makes the move to grab a corner and keep it over his unclothed bottom half just in time.

“Fuck!” Regis curses before pointing to the door. “Out, Kiera! Give me a damned moment to get dressed at the very least.”

“You’re the one who sent a message and made it sound urgent,” I reply, turning away as I make my way back out into the hallway. I don’t close the door, but I do keep my back turned as I hear his feet hit the hardwood floor and then stomp to the doorway.

With a grin, I glance back just as he slams the door in my face. Ah, I’ve missed this, I think to myself. How long has it been since I’ve been able to actually act like myself and not force out subservient words? Too fucking long.

“I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen,” I call out as I head back for the stairs. “Tell your girlfriend she’s welcome to join us for breakfast—or rather, I think it’s almost lunchtime now.”

More cursing and scrambling noises echo from beyond the door and a rather hard thump lands against the wooden frame. I’d bet my favorite pair of leather boots that he’s cursing up a storm and struggling not to come out into the hallway and attack me for that comment. One night with him and most women want marriage. As much as I don’t want to personally experience it myself, that must mean he’s rather decent in bed. I’d sure hope so with all of the experience he’s gotten. Calling his bed partner his ‘girlfriend’ will no doubt cause some friction, but that’s what he gets for fucking around during working hours.

With the grumbling noise from behind Regis’ bedroom door following me down the stairs, I head back to the first floor of Madam Brione’s shop and peer into the dark interior of her main room. Everything remains the same, including the thick layer of dust that seems to permeate every surface available. Dried herbs and flowers hang from the ceiling and books are piled in a disorganized fashion on her counter as well as in stacks that litter the floor. Poor Regis. Living here must be pure torture for him. If we could switch places, I certainly would.

Making my way down the narrow back hallway that leads to a kitchen at the rear of the building, I find the place empty of all other life. Curious. I wonder if Madam Brione is even here. As I wait for Regis to make his appearance, I rifle through the pantry in search of food and find a treasure trove of herbs and ingredients. I waste no time in cracking a few eggs into a pan and lighting a fire under the wooden stove.

I’m practically ready to dish it all up by the time a hulking figure stumbles through the doorway and I hear the front door open and close. Regis glares at me as he stomps into the room and takes a seat at the rickety wooden table that’s barely big enough for two people.

“You could’ve sent a message that you’d be coming this morning,” he complains as I slap a few fried and seasoned eggs onto a metal plate and slide them his way.

I roll my eyes and dish up my own plate before leaving the stove and taking a seat across from him. Despite the food in front of him, Regis continues to peer at me with a scowl and an annoyed tilt to his brows.

“Stop being such a fucking baby,” I reply as I dig into my meal. It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook for myself and I have to say that one good thing about the Academy is that their food is always made to perfection.

Regis mutters under his breath as he eats his breakfast and for a while, the two of us eat in companionable silence that is sweetly familiar. I’d almost forgotten what it was like outside of the Academy. It’s all too easy to get used to the world in there, but now, sitting across from someone of equal standing like Regis, I find that I miss the outside world.

My actions the night before come back to me with a pang in my chest. Guilt and maybe a little bit of sorrow for Theos hit me and sours my stomach. My upper lip curls back at the last egg on my plate and with a sigh, I push it away.

“You gonna finish that?” Regis asks as he finishes licking his tin fork clean.

Without a word, I push my plate towards him, and he gladly lifts the egg onto his plate and proceeds to devour it. Setting my elbow on the wooden table, I peer around the small but well-maintained kitchen. I’m not entirely sure if it’s Regis’ work or if Madam Brione simply treats the place where she cooks and eats her meals better than the rest of her residence.

Once Regis is done eating, however, I decide that enough time has passed and now that his bed partner has left, we’re alone enough to broach the topic of today’s meeting.

“So,” I start. “What was so urgent that you needed an in-person meeting?”

Regis slows down and lowers his hands to the table. For a moment, his eyes are focused on the grain of the table before he lifts them to me. I stiffen at his expression a moment before he speaks.

“Carcel is coming to Riviere.”

A whole host of emotions passes through me at that single statement and none of them are good. Ophelia’s son is coming to Riviere, and for both Regis and I, that cannot mean anything good. For several seconds, the two of us remain silent, and finally, after I’m sure I can respond without an outburst of anger, I say, “Why?” It’s the only thing I need to know. Why the fuck would Carcel show up now? Did Ophelia send him? Does she not trust that I can handle this with only Regis as backup?

Regis picks up his plate as well as mine and then takes them over to the small sink in the corner alongside the stove. He dumps the dirty dishes inside and grips the counter. With his back to me, I can’t see the expression on his face, but I don’t have to, to know what he’s thinking. Like me, he’s no fan of Carcel’s.

“I don’t know,” he says after a moment, “but I received word of his travel a few days ago. I sent a message to Ophelia, but there’s no response which can only mean one thing…” He doesn’t have to finish for me to know what he’s thinking.

She sent him and there will be no argument. “Damn it.” The curse slips through my clenched teeth. Of all times for Ophelia’s son to make an inopportune visit. Despite her lack of marriage, it’s well known among the Guild that Carcel was her first choice for taking over the Underworld when it comes time for her retirement—at least, it was until Regis. The only person Carcel hates more than me is him.

“If there’s no stopping his arrival, then we need to discuss what to do when he gets here,” Regis says, turning to face me once more. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans back against the counter and settles a serious look on me. “Any ideas?”

“On distracting Carcel?” I shake my head. “He’s only after one thing; you and I both know that.”

Regis’ upper lip curls back, baring his teeth in frustration. “This job is too dangerous for him to fuck up,” he snaps. “That bastard has to know that. Ophelia wouldn’t have sent him if he didn’t understand that much.”

“Are we so sure that she sent him?” I ask. It’s a pipe dream to think that Carcel is acting on his own, though.

Regis knows that as well as I do and levels me with a sympathetic look. “Carcel isn’t stupid enough to interfere without her backing him.”

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