Page 53 of The Demon's Delight
After passing the third dark street, I noticed a man in my periphery. He was hanging back enough to not be overly suspicious, but something about the way he moved had my attention. When he’d slowed, stopped, or changed direction the same as us even after every other person had vanished from the road, I resolved that I wasn’t making something out of nothing. Hailon was unaware, smiling softly to herself as we walked the cobbled street toward our bed, humming a tune in her throat.
Just as the fireworks started, I leaned down to whisper in her ear. I hated that I had to dash her beautiful mood.
My closeness and tone must have tipped her off that I wasn’t preparing to ask playfully if she wanted to race back to the inn.
“There’s a man behind us. Tall. Light hair. Been there for several streets now.” I was almost certain it was one of the two men she’d described to me from Olinbourg, but I wanted her to verify. “Play along.”
I slid my arm along her waist, inciting a startled noise from her as I spun her around like we were dancing again. To her credit, she was excellent at going along with things. I barely noticed her eyes shift from my face to the side of the street.
The man, on the other hand, was a terrible poker face, and very obviously tensed at our sudden movement.
I kept her tucked to my side as we half-stumbled a few extra steps, playing up that we might have had a little too much to drink and gaining a little bit of distance in the meantime. Hailon’s eyes were dilated wide, her breath coming in short gasps.
“I saw him earlier, but I thought I was imagining things. That’s the man who liked to hold me still.” Stress edged into her tone. “What is he doing here? Do you think he’s been following us all this time?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I soothed her, mouth as close to her ear as I could get it. “Do you have any of your little blades on you?”
“Yes.” She swiped her hand across her hip.
“Good. First, we’re going to lead him somewhere less populated.”
She blew out a slow breath, and I could feel her compartmentalize her feelings so she could fight. “Okay.”
I remembered a series of industrial buildings not far from the Rooster, they seemed like the best option for confrontation. Unfortunately for us, the man was tired of playing along and decided to start closing in before we got to the end of the next block.
“Fancy seeing you here, Jane,” he called out.
“You’ve got the wrong girl. No Jane here.” I tightened my grip on Hailon, her head turned down so her eyes weren’t visible.
The man stepped in front of us. I marveled at how bold he was given the difference in physicality between us. “That girl has something that belongs to me.” He reached out a hand, pointing. I simply stared at it.
“Her? Nah. I don’t think so.” I turned to Hailon, who was still examining the ground. “Moonflower, do you have anything that belongs to this man?” She shook her head aggressively. “There you have it.”
He reached out, his wrist caught in my hand before he could touch her face. “I just wanted to look. Say you’re right, I’ve got the wrong girl. I’ll leave, no harm done. But what if I’m right? Worth checking, wouldn’t you say?”
Incredible explosions of color and light went off in the sky, rattling the windows in the buildings around us. I stared at the man, weighing my options.
“It’s really not a good idea to do this right in the middle of the street. Shall we go somewhere a little more conducive to friendly conversation?”
He looked around shiftily, then gave a short nod, following closely as we walked toward a warehouse-type building with an open grassy yard and a chimney still smoking into the night.
The further we moved away from other eyes, the twitchier he got. I liked watching him squirm, but his actions made me nervous. They betrayed that he might not be alone, that things were not going according to his plans.
“Now then. Who are you and why are you accosting us in the street after such a lovely evening?”
“I’m Royston Lang. That girl there has things that belong to me. Things that belonged to my brother. And I’d put down goodmoney she also had something to do with his untimely death.” His hand fluttered against his leg, and he looked around again.
“No,” I answered simply.
“Sorry?” He jerked.
“She doesn’t have anything that belongs to you. If your brother died, he must have done something to deserve his fate. And her name isn’t Jane.”
“Listen, friend?—”
“I’mnotyour friend.” My fingers itched to pull a blade. Hailon was still safely tucked under my arm, her own little dagger palmed in her right hand. She’d brought the one that could be held between her fingers today. I liked that one. I slid the pack off my shoulder and set it on the ground near my foot.
“Be that as it may, that girl was previously under the… stewardship of me and my friends. I have reason to believe she has something that belonged to my brother.”
