Page 20 of Thrown to the Wolves

Her fear?

Or her rage…

Mrs. Graves rewraps my arm with fresh gauze, her touch soft despite the ragged rip in my skin. She’s taped it together as best she can without stitches. Something of a metaphor for the woman herself. She’s got her own scars, like all of us, only hers are on the inside. And she is unflinching in the face of the violent world we inhabit.

“There,” she says, patting my hand. “Good as new. Or as close as we get in this life, eh?”

I meet her eyes with a wry smile. “Close enough,” I agree.

As I flex my arm and thank her, a plan begins to take shape in my mind. I want to dig deeper into Scarlett’s background, find out more about this brother of hers and how he died. Knowledge is power, and if I’m going to beat Scarlett at her own game, I need to understand what motivates her.

But it’s more than that, too. I want to unravel the mystery of this woman who fights like a demon but stares at me with such haunted eyes. I want to peel back her layers, to map out the scars she hides beneath that tough exterior.

It’s a dangerous desire. Attachments are weaknesses, soft spots for enemies to exploit.

And Scarlett is a dead woman walking, so why waste my time?

But with her quick fists and quicker mind, she’s shaping up to be the most intriguing challenge I’ve faced in a long time. Very few dangerous people can fool me into thinking them harmless. She’s a chameleon of sorts. All those poor Syndicate bastards she took out would’ve had no chance—and I’m lucky I didn’t end up with a stiletto blade in my own heart, too.

I give a soft laugh as I realize it: those fool Sokolovs actually saved my ass. Without their distraction…

“Something funny?” Mrs. Graves asks, cleaning up the bloodied swabs.

“You had to be there.” I get to my feet as a new thought strikes me. “Thanks for the first aid, Mrs. G.”

“Any time, Lyssa.”

“Now can you do me another favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Quit ditching your damn bodyguards,” I say sternly. “They’re for your protection.”

She makes a flapping motion, dismissing my concern. “For goodness’ sake, I’m not in any danger in the middle of the city, not any more than I was in my own home. And I don’t like having those heavy feet clomping around me, Lyssa. They get in the way. Slow me down.”

“Uh-huh,” I say stoically. “Come on, Mrs. G. Just for now. Just while we’re staying here in town. For my sake?”

She makes a face, but gives in. “Alright. I suppose so. For your sake.”

I go quickly back to my own room and dig into my pocket for the tracker I still have. I used it to lure Lyssa out to the Drunken Hog, and it seemed pointless to ditch it after that—everyone in town who needs to know, knows where the Syndicate is staying while Elysium is renovated.

But Scarlett won’t come here to the Empire Grand. So I’ll have to wander off the path again myself. Lay myself out like bait.

It will be obvious. But hate and rage make fools of us all, and Scarlett seemed full enough of both to make unwise decisions.

I certainly hope so, anyway.

CHAPTER 10

Scarlett

I hit the mat hard, the breath knocked from my lungs. Ariadne stands over me, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Had enough yet?”

I grit my teeth, pushing myself up on shaky arms. We’ve been sparring for hours, ignoring the other trainees who came in and worked out and watched us and left—and I haven’t managed to best Ariadne once. Every time I think I’m getting close, she finds a new way to exploit my weaknesses and send me crashing to the ground.

She does it again now, dropping into a leg-sweep that takes mine out from under me, winding me once more.

Exhausted and frustrated, I choke out the training safe word. “Foxglove.”

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