Page 12 of The Hawk and the Nightingale

“A moment of vanity and I may have doomed us all,” Amalie said bitterly. “His people are already here. Marek left a dead raven across my shop’s threshold, and Iveta killed two of his warriors last night.”

“Iveta did that?” Hawk raised his eyebrows. “She is more than your assistant, isn’t she?”

“Iveta has been with me for a very long time,” Amalie replied. “After Marek turned me, he gave her to me as a toy, but I allowed her to train in secret as my bodyguard. When I led the revolt against Marek and Varushka, she was my first supporter. She has placed herself between me and danger at every turn. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Hawk nodded. “As fierce as you and Iveta are, you two cannot go against this Marek alone. How can I help?”

“You cannot help,” Amalie said. “It’s too dangerous, and this isn’t your fight.”

“Isn’t it? If I hadn’t built my club so close to your shop, the music wouldn’t have broken your wares. If I hadn’t gone to your shop in person and demanded you come to the club, you never would have set foot there. And, if I hadn’t been so enticingly bitable, you wouldn’t have retuned a second time wearing the garnet.” He took Amalie’s hand, and studied her fingertips. “It seems that we’re in this situation together, my nightingale.”

Amalie curled her fingers against Hawk’s. “Heaven help us all.”

Chapter Eight

Hawk - Prague, Present Day

They spent a few more hours in the kitchen while Hawk cooked and Amalie ate almost everything he offered her; she shared that she’d never been a fan of fried sausages or bacon, but she devoured the omelet filled with cheese and sprinkled with chives. While he learned more about his nightingale’s likes and dislikes, Hawk was also trying to convince Amalie to let him help her make a stand against this Marek.

“Where is the garnet now?” he asked. He was fascinated by the fact that a piece of jewelry could bestow the clan’s leadership merely based on whoever wore it. Then again, he supposed crowns performed a similar function. Put one on your head and you not only looked like a monarch, you also appeared to be the most important person in the room.

“I have it on me.” Amalie tugged down her sweater, and revealed the gem tucked inside her bra. “I should have been this discreet last night.”

“Stop blaming yourself,” he said. “If this Marek wants the garnet as badly as you say, he would have come for it eventually. Eventually just happened to be now.” Hawk reached forward and tugged the collar of Amalie’s sweater back into place, but paused when he noticed her staring at him.

“Forgive me,” he said, as he withdrew his hands. “I didn’t mean to overstep.” Amalie caught his hands, and kissed his knuckles.

“One could argue that I overstepped first, by biting you without asking,” she said.

“Fair point,” Hawk said, then he pulled her to her feet. “I need to get to the club. If you’re done eating all my food, I’ll walk you home.”

“You loved feeding me,” she countered, and he didn’t argue. “You don’t know where I live.”

“No, but there is a very nice house adjacent to your shop, and the locals say a beautiful woman is often seen in the windows, singing along with the birds,” he said. “Either that’s your house, or I’ll meet someone new. Think this woman will bite me, too?”

Amalie swatted his arm, but she was laughing when she did so. When they reached the door, and Hawk grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the coat rack, she asked, “What’s that for? It’s not raining.”

“It’s to keep the sun off your skin. What, you want to fight Marek and deal with a sunburn at the same time?” Hawk opened the door and then the umbrella, then he extended his arm to Amalie. When she hesitated, he observed, “You’re not used to letting others take care of you.”

“I’m not,” she said, and she relented and tucked her hand inside his elbow. “Usually I’m the one looking after the rest.”

“Not even Iveta sees to your needs?”

A rather unladylike snort issued forth from Amalie’s red lips. “Iveta’s version of caring is committing a bloodless murder, so there’s nothing for me to clean up afterwards.”

“She’s considerate. That’s good.” Hawk closed and locked the door behind them, then they started down the street. “It’s too bad you’re nocturnal. You’re beautiful in the sunlight.” Amalie blushed and ducked her head, then something on the side of the street caught her eye. “What is it?” he asked, as he followed her gaze. There was a pile of black feathers on the side of the road.

“Odd.” Hawk approached the feathers, and realized that someone had ripped a large black bird to pieces. “What sort of animal would have done this to a crow?”

“It’s not a crow,” Amalie said. “It’s a raven.”

“There’s another,” Hawk said, pointing to a second, larger pile of feathers.

“Hawk, get away!”

“What if we can save the birds?” he countered, then he realized what he was looking at. Next to the murdered raven was a hawk, its throat cut and the pale feathers on its breast matted with blood.

“Marek is here,” Amalie said, her panicked gaze darting from one side of the street to the other. “Hawk, we need to run!”

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