Chapter 25

Water dripped from my clothing and hair, pooling on the corridor floor in front of the door to the rooms the guild had leased as a safe house. With shaking fingers, I fumbled in my pockets, first to find the key, and then to insert it in the lock. Inside, I threw the dead bolt and simply stood, hugging myself, waiting for my heart rate to slow.

When the gargoyles had woken, they chased me down the alley, mighty wings beating the air. I had sprinted through City Center, desperate to get to the narrower lanes of the poorer districts. My breathing had been coming in ragged gasps when the alarms finally wailed at Scepter Seraphim, and the gargoyles turned back. Without Remy's distractions, I would not have been able to escape.

For the first time, I questioned my decision to join the guild. When I'd left the circus, one of the other performers had given me a letter of introduction to Lorget. With my skills, this had seemed like the perfect career. Now I wasn't so sure.

The thrill of performing dangerous circus feats had energized me, pushing me to try more and more difficult stunts. Skipping across the rooftops in Sageport was intoxicating and left me giddy with delight. Running from gargoyles was an entirely different feeling—one that left me hyperventilating and sweaty. This wasn't exhilarating; it was terrifying.

Even though it wasn't cold, I couldn't stop shivering, so I lit a fire in the grate and found an extra blanket in the bedroom. Peeling off my sodden clothes, I spread them before the fire to dry and wrapped myself in the blanket. I untied my ponytail and ran my fingers through my hair to fluff it out. There was a bottle of wine in a cupboard, and I pulled it out. Although I never drank hard liquor, I wished for something stronger.

Nodding sleepily over my glass of wine, a light tap at the door brought me fully awake. Snatching my bow from the table, I nocked one of Petra's arrows and crouched behind the armchair. The knock came again.

"Ziola, it's me."

I stood unsteadily and released a shaky giggle. Of course it was Remy. A gargoyle would probably not tap politely on the door.

Clutching the blanket around me, I threw the bolt and let him in. Rain drops glistened in his sable-tipped hair, highlighting the unusual mix of colors. The smell of cedar and wet cobblestones drifted in with him, and I inhaled deeply. His soaked linen shirt clung to his body, showcasing his toned muscles and athletic frame. The memory of his hard body on top of mine surfaced, and my mouth dried.

A crooked grin lifted his lips as he took in the blanket I gripped in one hand and the bow in the other. He pointed to the arrow and asked, "Is that in case I get too rambunctious and you need to knock me out?"

Heat rose to my face, and I strode back to the chair, trading the bow for my glass of wine. "You never know."

I felt his gaze on my back and glanced over my shoulder. His blue eyes, ordinarily so bright and piercing, smoldered with intensity. He strolled to the fireplace, peeled off his shirt, and spread it next to mine. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his sculpted torso, emphasizing the chiseled lines of his abs and the definition in his arms. My eyes drank in the sight of him, and I swallowed hard, feeling the heat spread through my core.

As he turned to face me, our eyes locked in a heated gaze. The tension between us was palpable, and I could feel my heart racing. After a moment, he tore his eyes away and visibly shook himself, as if trying to clear his head.

"We need to talk about the Eye," he said with perfect calm. Then he dropped his trousers and placed them on the hearth.

My jaw hung open and my brain momentarily stopped working. When it sputtered to life again, I said, "We're going to talk about work naked?"

His eyes darkened as a sly smile spread across his face. "Is that a problem?"

"It seems to be for you," I retorted and pointed at the obvious sign of his distraction.

His grin grew broader.

I sighed and drew my brows together. "Are all shifters so comfortable with nudity?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Well, I'm not." I waved my hand around and the wine sloshed out of the glass. "If work is so important, go find a blanket or a sheet or a towel… Something. Anything."

He rolled his eyes. "For someone who performed in public wearing skintight clothing and spangles, you are remarkably prudish." But he strode into the bedroom and returned with a towel slung low around his narrow hips. I would have preferred he swaddled himself in a sheet since his bare chest and torso were tantalizing, but I supposed this would have to do.

Pouring himself a glass of wine, he sank into the other armchair in front of the fire. "Did you have any trouble getting away?"

"Other than thinking my lungs might burst, no." I didn't want to admit how frightened I'd been.

"Good." He leaned back in the chair. "Did you open the box?"

"No. You told me not to."

He took a long drink and stared at his glass. "When I touched the Eye, I had a vision."

"You did? I thought you had to be a mage to use it. Or maybe a fae."

"Apparently not."

"Did you see the future or the past?"

"Definitely not the past. And I hope like hell it wasn't the future."

I looked at him in surprise. "That bad?"

"Yeah." He shuddered and dropped his head against the chair's back. After a moment, he continued. "The ocean was poisoned, all the fish dead, selkies and merfolk crying… But it looked like someone was getting rich mining the ocean floor."

I tasted bile in the back of my throat, and a chill swept through me. "Does the Eye show definite futures or just possible outcomes?"

Remy shrugged and rubbed his forehead. "I have no idea."

"I don't think any of those documents Lorget gave us had precise details on how to use it," I mused.

"They didn't."

"You certainly sound sure." I eyed him suspiciously. The stack of parchment had been thick, and Remy only had them a brief time before giving them to me.

"I am."

I raised my brows and gave him a pointed look.

He sighed and sat forward. "I only need to read something once to remember it."

"Remember how much?"

"All of it. Every word."

I blinked. "That's not possible."

He gave me a small smile. "I assure you, it is. I told you I never went to school. But Halder taught me to read and gave me stacks of books. I remember everything in them."

I still wasn't sure I believed him. "Show me. Recite something from Lorget's parchments," I challenged.

All humor drained from Remy's face and his expression turned hard. "I'm not a trick pony to be trotted out for everyone's amusement."

My face and ears felt impossibly hot as I tugged my blanket up tighter under my chin. "I didn't mean—"

"Forget it," he said.

"I-I'm sorry." I wanted to crawl into a hole. I didn't completely understand why he was sensitive about this, any more than about his rat form, but clearly, I had hit another nerve.

He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. "It's not your fault. I'm tired." Sitting up, he closed his eyes. "When I was growing up, being different either got you killed or used by someone stronger. Even Halder took advantage when he realized that a rat shifter with perfect recall could be an amazing spy."

My throat ached as I realized just how lonely his life had been. The circus had wanted to get its money's worth out of me and had worked me hard, but the other performers worked hard as well. Some had been purchased, like me, but others were there freely, and there was a comradery as we all improved our skills. I'd had other children to play with and adults to teach me, and except for the troupe owners, they weren't doing it for their own benefit.

I reached over and took his hand. Another apology seemed lame, but no other words came to mind. Ultimately, I settled on, "I won't say a word to anyone."

"It's fine. Really." Remy squeezed my hand and stood. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. You take the bed; I'll sleep out here."

I wanted to sleep in his arms, not alone in a strange bed, but I nodded. Holding onto the blanket, I shuffled slowly into the bedroom and lay down. Despite my exhaustion, it was a long time before I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, I stumbled from the bedroom, hair tangled, eyes puffy, and mood foul. Remy was standing at the small table in the middle of the room, slicing bread and cheese. A small pot of water was boiling merrily with an enchanted heat stone in it and a few tea sachets were stacked alongside. There was also a jug of some other beverage.

He looked up with a smile when I entered. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

By the gods, he was one of those cheerful morning people. I glared.

"Guess not," he said and sat down, holding a thick slab of cheese between two slices of bread. He slurped noisily from a cup and took a big bite of the bread and cheese.

Shoving my rat's nest of hair out of my face, I scooped up my clothing and stomped back into the bedroom. When I emerged dressed and with my hair scraped back into a ponytail, he was finishing the last of his food.

Waving his cup at the bread and cheese, he said, "Help yourself." He pointed at the pot and jug. "Tea, cider."

With a grunt, I sat and pulled the platter nearer. "Why are you so perky? You can't have been comfortable sleeping in a chair."

He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. "What makes you think I slept in a chair?"

I glanced around the small living room. Other than the table, there were only a few chairs. Not even a small sofa. "Then where?"

"I shifted and slept on your tunic in front of the fire."

I gaped at him, then brushed the front of my tunic with my hand. I couldn't decide if that was sexy or creepy.

He laughed and said, "I considered sleeping on your pants."

I choked on a mouthful of cheese and when I stopped coughing, asked, "What now? Deliver the Eye to the guild house?"

Remy tapped his forefingers on the cup, eyes vacant. "I have a bad feeling about this."

I stopped in mid-chew and stared. "About what?"

"Bringing all that power to the guild."

I gulped some tea to wash down the bread and looked at him in surprise. "Wasn't that the point? To keep it from the Fae Council?"

"True. But do we really know what the board of directors is planning? They only said they'd decide after we retrieved it."

I couldn't believe that he was having second thoughts. Not now. Not after all that risk and effort. "Look, this heist is going to make our reputation in the guild. You said yourself that no one's ever robbed Scepter Seraphim before. They'll have to make you a master. Bring them the Eye of Oris and they'll give you whatever you want." Not to mention, they'd have to elevate me to journeyman and give me more lucrative assignments. Ones that didn't involve gargoyles.

"What if my vision was the result of giving them the Eye?"

"Dead fish and mining? How could that possibly be tied to the Guild of Thieves and Spies?"

He shrugged, then sighed. "I wish I understood how the Eye worked. If the vision had nothing to do with the guild, then why show me?"

"Maybe you're the one getting rich from mining."

He recoiled and shook his head. "May all the gods forbid," he muttered.

"Do you think the guild library has more information on the Eye?"

"Unlikely." He tapped his fingers on the table. "But I know where there's an antique book shop. The owner might have something."