“Can I join you?” James pulled up a chair, knowing that Gerred wouldn’t turn him away once he was there, lest he give Hamel an impression that he didn’t have full control over his crew. But the look Gerred turned on him when he sat down was even more hostile than James had expected. Belatedly, he realized that what might have once simply been an impudent gesture from a young upstart was now being interpreted as an attempt from a rival to poach Gerred’s allies. Well, it was too late to back out now, and part of him enjoyed seeing Gerred off balance.
James turned to Lord Hamel. “Good to see you. Steffen, is it?”
Lord Hamel nodded amiably, though the spark in his eyes suggested that the nobleman was well aware of everything that had passed between the two assassins. Once again, James reminded himself not to underestimate this wallhugger.
“What brings you to the city today?” James asked.
“Just discussing some plans with Gerred.” Hamel did a respectable job of hiding his high-class diction, though he couldn’t quite lose his air of command. But then, perhaps he didn’t want to blend in too completely with the masses.
James nodded gravely. “There are always things to get done. Gerred’s the right man for the job, though. He’s done much to strengthen our Guild’s workings.” James had the satisfaction of seeing Gerred’s brow furrow slightly in confusion.
“I’m glad to hear it. It is said that the best measure of a man lies in the opinions of those he commands,” said Hamel.
“Wisely said,” said James, without a hint of mockery. “Tell me, Steffen. Have you been to the Scorned Maiden before?”
“Not for many years.” Hamel surveyed the surroundings in a way that made James aware of the ill-fitted window shutters and rotting ceiling beams. The smell of sweat and ale was strong tonight. “It has its charms.”
James took a long draught from his drink. “The ale is middling, but the dancers are some of the best in the city.” He raised a hand to Thalia. “A dance, to entertain my friend here.” He flipped a coin to the lute player in the corner.
Thalia danced well. James had never seen her so given to a performance, and she only had eyes for Hamel. The nobleman watched with an appreciative eye, and after a while James itched to cut that leer off his face. But Thalia was encouraging him, tossing her auburn hair and swaying her hips. Gerred scowled as well, shooting suspicious looks at James every so often. But seeing how pleased Hamel was, Gerred didn’t complain.
When the dance was over, Hamel waved Thalia over. She approached them boldly, her eyes sparkling with promises.
“What is your name?”
“Thalia.”
“Beautiful, Thalia. Truly beautiful.” Lord Hamel pulled up a chair for her, and Thalia joined them at the table.
Chapter Five
THALIA was noticeably tired when she came to James’s quarters the next afternoon. Paler, if it was even possible, with circles under her eyes.
“Didn’t sleep well last night?” James asked. He didn’t bother toning down his sarcasm.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” There was a brokenness to her tone that might have stopped him under different circumstances, but he wasn’t feeling charitable. All he could see was Thalia under Hamel’s arm, smiling and laughing as the nobleman pulled her even closer. Hamel’s lips against her hair as he whispered in her ear. And to add insult to injury, she was now back in her homespun gown with her makeup removed, playing the innocent.
“I didn’t think you had it in you,” he said.
She didn’t say anything, just turned away from him so that her hair hid her face from view. James’s anger boiled over. He grabbed her wrist. Too forcefully, and she gasped.
“Did you go to his bed?”
“What is it to you?” she said.
Part of him had still hoped she’d deny it. James’s lips curled in disgust. “You really are dedicated, aren't you? If you’re planning to use Hamel to reach your mark, you’re playing with fire. One wrong step with him—”
It seemed that something snapped in her, because her timidity fell away. Thalia whipped her head up, eyes ablaze. “Don’t be blind, James. Look at me. Do you think I enjoyed it?”
They were almost nose to nose, and her voice was threatening to crack. It was enough to make him pause. He pulled back and took in the hollow hopelessness of her face, the pallor of her skin. She watched him, eyes wide. Then Thalia seemed to gather herself. She stood up on her toes, eyes half lidded, and touched her lips to his. He knew she was just trying to distract him, to give him what she thought he desired. For a long moment, he stood unmoving against the pressure of her lips, but finally he tilted his face ever so slightly to meet hers.
This was the signal she was waiting for. Thalia pressed into him, urgent now, and a rush of heat filled James. Her lips were soft, her breath warm. He’d known he wanted her, but hadn’t realized how much. Thalia’s body was strong but pliant, just as he’d imagined, her restless fingers finding purchase in his arms and his shoulders. He buried his fingers in her hair, his frustration adding a savagery to his movements as he bore her toward his bed, sliding his hands down her back to pull at the lacing of her gown.
Only to see, in his mind’s eye, Hamel doing the same thing hours earlier.
He pushed her away. She gasped and fell onto the bed.