Page 23 of The Orc's Thief
Relief floods in instantly. The salve tingles, cool and soothing, dulling the worst of the pain. The blister is still there, but it’s like I can’t feel it anymore. Whatever’s in this jar, it’s strong, numbing, definitely. But that doesn’t mean it’s safe. What if too much of it knocks me out?
“Use it on me if you don’t trust me,” the stranger says, breaking into my thoughts. “I’d be grateful, actually.”
I glare at him. “You want me to treat the injury I caused?”
“And the stab wound from those bullies back there.” He shrugs. “I don’t blame you, just to be clear. You were defending yourself. I’m sorry for startling you. Please forgive me.”
Gods, he sounds sincere. His dark eyes hold no deceit, and the usual smirk is gone, replaced with something startlingly earnest. Despite myself, my heart softens just a little.
He was stabbed? If that’s true, it’s probably because of me.
“Tell me what you were doing at the Ravens’ mansion, and I’ll do it,” I counter his offer.
“We suspect the Ravens are running a large-scale con,” he replies without hesitation. “Several people have gone missing. No warning, no signs of struggle. We don’t have solid proof they’re behind it yet, but there’s been a surge of activity at their headquarters. We’ve been watching. Waiting for a break.”
My stomach sinks. “They’re kidnapping people?”
Gods, if Damen took Lindie… If she’s been hurt, I’ll murder the gang leader.
Then I think of the clues I saw in her room. The clothes and the shoes she—or someone else—had clearly packed for a trip. Would they have bothered with that if they were planning on hurting her?
It doesn’t make sense, and I cling to the hope that she might be all right after all.
The stranger is watching me intently, and I realize I must have given my emotions away. That’s dangerous. I don’t want to give him more power over me.
“Who is ‘we’?” I demand. “Are you working for the city watch?”
He cocks his head to the side. “I answered one question.”
Ah. So that’s how we’ll do this.
“Fine.” I kneel beside him. “If you so much as move…”
“You’ll stab me, I know.” His lips twitch as if he’s fighting back a smile. “I have a handkerchief in the pocket of my jacket. If you could wipe some of the blood away first, that would be grand. It’s drying, and it itches.”
I grit my teeth, then reach under his cloak and feel around for the thing. “This will count for two questions, let me tell you.”
“Fair enough.”
His breath brushes my cheek, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are, his face just inches from mine. My gaze drops to his lips before I can stop it. His lower lip is slightly fuller than the top, with his tusks poking out, white and symmetrical. His chin is shadowed with short black stubble, like he hasn’t shaved today.
His lips part, and for a wild second, I think he might kiss me.
I snatch my hand back, clutching the handkerchief. I lean away and press it to his temple a little harder than I need to.
He winces, and regret swamps me.
“Sorry,” I murmur, easing the pressure. “Stay still.”
Slowly, I dab away the blood, though it’s already drying, just like he said. The cut isn’t too bad, and the bleeding’s stopped, but the swelling around it is nasty.
“Thank you.” His voice is low, the words a soft rumble from his chest. “For taking care of me.”
I pause, then shoot him an arch look. “I tied you up, and you’re thanking me.”
His grin is wider this time, more genuine, maybe the first real smile he’s shown since we met.
“I don’t mind being tied up, love, as long as you’re touching me.”
