Page 34 of Heirs of the Cursed

“I can be whoever you want me to be, gorgeous. Or no one, if you prefer.”

Darcia’s neck reddened with hate. Driven by such dark emotions, she raised her arm one more time, but he was faster and dodged the punch aimed at his face.

“Too slow.”

“Leave or I swear to the goddesses . . .”

Horses hooves, metallic clashes of armor and hoarse sounds of rustling warned Darcia of the arrival of the soldiers before she saw their shadows in front of the store. The thief moved with great speed, dragging her behind a shelf, where darkness shielded them from the approaching oil lamps and eyes. She tried to pull away from his grasp, but his strong hands held her in place, preventing her from moving a single muscle.

“Stay still.”

Darcia shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, I’m all in for some personal space. But if I do, we’ll be in big trouble.”

The thief’s gloved hands were as cold as ice. She had to press her lips together to keep from letting out a gasp.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.”

He arched an eyebrow, challenging her to carry out her threat. His green eyes drifted to her neck, to the boreal hue radiating from her pendant.

“Would you rat us out?” he questioned.

“If that keeps you away from me? Yes, I would.”

He let out an amused laugh. It was so soft that Darcia thought she’d imagined it. The king’s soldiers stood in a circle just in front of the stores, giving no thought to the ajar door.

The thief’s voice grew even darker as he whispered to her, “I’m sorry to have met you this way, gorgeous. I would have tried so much harder in courtship if we were under different circumstances.”

Darcia struck his arms several times with her fists and opened her mouth to let out a curse.

“It’s a shame it has to be this way,” he whispered next to her ear, kissing Darcia’s neck with the edge of his dagger. The hilt clashed against the many rings that decorated his fingers. “One sound from your mouth and I’ll slit your throat.”

She waited a couple of seconds before mumbling, “You’re a dirty, bastard of a thief.”

“I like dirty things very much. Now, please close that pretty little mouth of yours so I can hear what they’re saying.”

Darcia turned her attention away from the dagger and focused on the soldiers. The Chaser jumped off his horse and Darcia shrank back in his presence. No matter how much mortal danger there was inside the store, she’d rather face a petty thief than a skilled assassin—even one that had been so polite in her abode.

“Do you have anything for me, gentlemen?” Harg voice reached her ears beyond the glass.

“Nothing for the moment, General,” replied one of the soldiers. “We have been investigating the city thoroughly. There’s no sign of strange magic. Not even the stones from the Fallen Kingdom have undergone any change.”

“And physically?”

“We wouldn’t know, sir,” replied another. “There are many women in these lands who are the same age as the Dark Twins. None of them have given us any reason to suspect.”

“Such an interesting subject,” the thief whispered in her ear. “I bet they have put a very juicy bounty on their heads.”

“And how much money will they pay for yours?” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you’d love to know.”

Darcia wanted to respond, but Harg spoke again.

“We have less than three months to find the Dark Twins and deliver them to the king if we don’t want to become food for his crows. So I advise you to be cautious and not get carried away by vices.”

They all nodded in unison.

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