Page 16 of Fortress of Ambrose
Nore shook her head. She reached into the back of her dress and pulled out the leather journal.
“How did you—”
“I wasn’t taking any chances. The one in my bag was a fake. I swapped it quickly with one I found at the hostess booth. He ran off withSixty Clever Uses for Saffron.”
Yagrin burst out laughing. She was really something.
“Still, we don’t know what the sketches mean. And there was that weird thing he said at the tattoo shop. Maybe I misheard.” She tapped her lip. A bicyclist zoomed past and Yagrin hardly saw him coming. The day had dimmed, with no glimpse of sunlight between the buildings.
“Let’s get moving,” he told her. They walked back toward the main road in the direction of the place where they’d been staying—a room ata hotel unaffiliated with his father’s. He had to be careful. It was a long walk, a dozen blocks at least, and they did most of it in silence to a backdrop of the buzzing city streets. He watched her. It wasn’t often someone got one over on him like that. The not having magicandthe decoy journal. It was a bit impressive. He chuckled under his breath.
“What are you laughing at?” She cut him a glance that could kill.
“Nothing, really.”
“Because I can’t think of anything that’s funny. People are after myblood.” She bit down on her already swollen lip. “We’ve been at this for weeks and the one idea I had ran off thanks to you attacking him.”
He wouldn’t take the bait. Arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere. And he was too distracted, captivated, even, that she’d made it to the ripe age of—
“How old are you?”
Her brow furrowed. She sighed, exasperated. “Here I thought the last few blocks you were drumming ideas about how to find the other half of the Scroll, when you’re clearly replaying your favorite comedy routine in your head and pondering my age.” She rubbed her temples.
“It was just a question. And I’m fully on task. You’re the liar here.” He winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. After all, he told his fair share of lies.
She stopped.
“That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it as an insult. To be honest—”
“I don’t care what you think of me, Yagrin Richard Wexton the First. In case I didn’t make that clear the first time.”
Hearing his full name felt like a punch in the chest. “How do you know my middle name?”
She started walking again, this time faster. He had to jog a little to keep up.
“When it comes to research, I assure you that I have you beat.” There was a spark of challenge in her eye. As if she dared him to question her. He smirked.
“Well, you’ve warmed up.”
She exhaled a long, dragging sigh as they entered the hotel at Washington Avenue. She watched every corner of the busy lobby with her arms tight around her. Ellery putting a bounty on her blood had shaken her up. He’d abandoned his recent engagement, apparently to focus on apprehending her. Inside the elevator, Yagrin watched as she pulled out her perfect ponytail and flipped her hair forward, then back, before scooping it up into a messy bun.
The cut on her arm was still bleeding, so Nore cleaned it as soon as they entered their room. There were two beds, as requested. She kicked off her shoes and fell onto one of them, trying to be mindful of the cut. He caught himself tracing her features.
“Nore, if having the truth out there made you feel better, I’m glad you’ve told me.”
Her chin slid over her shoulder at him. “Sure.”
“We have Dublin’s journal. We now know Ellery’s on the offense.Andyou seem to have relaxed a bit.” He kicked aside the shoe she left in the middle of the floor to avoid tripping over it. “Now I know not to put you in a situation where you have to use magic. I almost think we’ll work together better now that I know.”
Her lips pursed. “You mean that?”
“I do. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“I mean, yes, it does.”
“Alright. So I won’t throw it in your face anymore. And you can stop worrying about pretending with me.”
She pulled the covers over her. “Fine.”
