Chapter 11

Ellery

Just like that,my heart plummeted into my shoes. The image of him in the carriage with that woman between his legs burst through my mind, and I gulped as I resisted the impulse to run.

"Excuse me," I murmured.

I tried to sidestep him, but he held his hand out to stop me. "How do I know you?"

My mind spun as I tried to decide whether to lie, pretend I had no idea who he was, or go with the truth. In the end, since so much of my life had become a dangerous lie, I decided on the truth.

In this instance, it couldn't get me in trouble… or I hoped it couldn't.

"I'm Ellery Marian of Marian Manor. We met once, years ago."

His eyes ran over me. Then his forehead cleared and realization settled over his features. "My father and I were forced to spend the night at your manor during a magnetic storm."

A spike of irritation ran through me as he adopted his father's same condescending attitude regarding my home. "No one forced you to spend the night anywhere."

The corner of his lips twitched before his amusement fell away. "The snow did."

"You could have stayed in the snow," I muttered.

Suddenly glad I'd stolen his money, I went to sidestep him again, but he stopped me once more.

"Your father fought in the Ghoul War," he stated.

I stiffened at the reminder of my father. "He did."

"I saw him there… amongst the fighters. We shared some drinks, like we did at your manor."

I couldn't look at him anymore as I battled the tears burning my eyes. It had been a year since we received word of my father's death, a year since I'd stood beside the wooden box they'd sent him home in, yet it still cut as deep as if it was yesterday.

No one should have to identify their father's body, but my mother was too distraught to do it, so the responsibility fell to me. He'd been badly wounded and battered, and it had taken me far too much time to get out the words to confirm it was him.

"Did he make it home?" Ryker asked.

"Not alive."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good man."

"He was," I muttered around the lump in my throat. "Now, if you'll excuse me?—"

"Do you know anything about this?"

Before I could reply, he thrust a WANTED poster of me in my face. Gulping, I worked to keep my expression impassive as I took in the picture.

Thankfully, it was so generic it was impossible to tell who it was a picture of, but I still felt like the word guilty blazed across my forehead. It took everything I had not to lift a hand to check.

Stay calm, or you're going to die.

Ryker

I studiedthe young woman before me as she glanced at the photo. Her blue-green eyes, the striking color of cyan, were so unusual they were how I recalled meeting her before. They stood out vividly against her golden skin and mocha-brown hair with interwoven shades of chestnut and chocolate.

While she was only a child the last time I saw her, those eyes instantly reminded me of the encounter. Then, she'd been a carefree youth with knobby knees and clothes that clung to her slender frame as she rolled in the snow.

She'd been playing with another girl as they dug a hole in a giant snowbank. The other girl's red hair, peeking out from beneath her hood, was a stark contrast to the snow, but its vibrant red hue didn't detract from the brilliance of this one's eyes.

At the time, her antics amused me; my father was anything but pleased. He'd never liked children, and finding two teens playing in the snow like they were little more than kids was a disgrace to the man who preferred everything to be in perfect order.

Already annoyed we had to stop for the night, my father snapped at the girls to get out of the way before riding on to the stable. At the time, I'd debated returning to rejoin Leo at the palace but had told my father I would accompany him home after his visit with the king, and the magnetic blizzard would make traveling back to the palace difficult.

Besides, I didn't feel right leaving my foul-tempered father with the family who had offered to take us in. No one deserved that.

It was only when the dark-haired ruffian, as my father called her, joined us for dinner that we learned she was the daughter of our hosts. Her hair was still wet when she joined us at the table, and her cheeks remained flushed from the cold and exertion, but she'd changed into a green dress.

She'd tripped over her chair leg, dragging it briefly across the floor before she plopped onto the chair. "I'm sorry I'm late," she'd apologized as her cheeks burned redder.

"That's okay, dear," her father replied.

His simple, kind response astounded me more than her late, somewhat disheveled arrival. If I'd arrived late at her age, my father would have beaten me until I couldn't sit for a week.

It had been centuries since my father last had the balls to hit me, but the memories of those far-too-frequent lashings during my childhood didn't fade. Nor did my hatred for the man who had unleashed those beatings.

But Ellery's father was amused by his daughter's late arrival as he beamed at her. Her mother had also smiled lovingly at her while a servant poured us all wine.

My mother died when I was a child, and I still recalled her love, but many years had passed since I experienced it for myself. This woman's family had been full of love and laughter, something different from mine.

At the time, it fascinated me, but I'd honestly forgotten about that night until I saw her again. And time had changed the young, lanky girl… a lot.

She'd grown into a beautiful woman whose eyes were still completely captivating, but the rest of her had caught up to her eyes. She'd gone from a gangly, slightly awkward teen to a beautiful woman with an hourglass figure emphasized by her formfitting, indigo dress and the red sash around her waist.

If I didn't have more important things to focus on right now, she could become a very fundistraction, but I couldn't let that happen until I learned what she knew about the thief. She was the only familiar face in this crowd, and I would get answers from her.