“I think you’d flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention.”
“If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice. Are you jealous?”
“All the time.”
“I’m glad. What are you looking at, Matthias?” The low thrum of her voice vibrated straight through him.
He kept his eyes on the ceiling, whispering softly. “Nothing.”
“Matthias, are you praying?”
“Possibly.”
“For restraint?” she said sweetly.
“You really are a witch.”
“I’m not proper, Matthias.”
“I am aware of this.” Miserably, keenly, hungrily aware.
“And I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re not proper either.”
His gaze dropped to her now. “I—”
“How many rules have you broken since you met me? How many laws? They won’t be the last. Nothing about us will ever be proper,” she said. She tilted her face up to his. So close now it was as if they were already touching. “Not the way we met. Not the life we lead. And not the way we kiss.”
She went up on tiptoe, and that easily, her mouth was against his. It was barely a kiss—just a quick, startling press of her lips.
Before she could even think of moving away, he had hold of her. He knew he was probably doing everything wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry, because she was in his arms, her lips were parting, her hands were twining around his neck, and sweet Djel, her tongue was in his mouth. No wonder Fjerdans were so cautious about courtship. If Matthias could be kissing Nina, feeling her nip at his lip with her clever teeth, feel her body fitted against his own, hear her release that little sigh in the back of her throat, why would he ever bother doing anything else? Why would anyone?
“Matthias,” Nina said breathlessly, and then they were kissing again.
She was sweet as the first rain, lush as new meadows. His hands curled along her back, tracing her shape, the line of her spine, the emphatic flare of her hips.
“Matthias ,” she said more insistently, pulling away.
He opened his eyes, certain he’d made some horrible mistake. Nina was biting her lower lip—it was pink and swollen. But she was smiling, and her eyes sparkled. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all, you glorious babink , but—”
Zoya cleared her throat. “I’m glad you two found a way to spend the time while you waited.”
Her expression was pure disgust, but next to her, Genya looked like she was about to burst with glee.
“Perhaps you should put me down?” suggested Nina.
Reality crashed in on Matthias—the guards’ knowing looks, Zoya and Genya in the doorway, and the fact that in the course of kissing Nina Zenik with a year’s worth of pent-up desire, he had lifted her clear off her feet.
A tide of embarrassment flooded through him. What Fjerdan did such a thing? Gently, he released his hold on her magnificent thighs and let her slide to the ground.
“Shameless ,” Nina whispered, and he felt his cheeks go red.
Zoya rolled her eyes. “We’re making a deal with a pair of love-struck teenagers.”
Matthias felt another wave of heat in his face, but Nina just adjusted her wig and said, “So you’ll accept our help?”
It took them a short time to work out the logistics of how the night would go. Since it might not be safe for Nina to return to the tavern, once she had information on where and when to board Van Eck’s ship, she would get a message to the embassy—probably via Inej, since the Wraith could come and go without being seen. The refugees would remain in hiding as long as possible; then Genya and Zoya would get them to the harbor.
“Be prepared for a fight,” Matthias said. “The Shu will be watching this sector of town. They haven’t had the temerity to attack the embassy or the marketplace yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“We’ll be ready, Fjerdan,” said Zoya, and in her gaze he saw the steel of a born commander.
On their way out of the embassy, Nina found the golden-eyed Heartrender who had been part of the ambush at the tavern. She was Shu, with a short crop of black hair, and wore a pair of slender silver axes at her hips. Nina had told him she was the only Corporalnik among the Grisha refugees and diplomats.
“Tamar?” Nina said tentatively. “If the Kherguud come, you mustn’t allow yourself to be taken. A Heartrender in Shu possession and under the influence of parem could irrevocably tip the scales in their favor. You cannot imagine the power of this drug.”
“No one will take me alive,” said the girl. She slid a tiny, pale yellow tablet from her pocket, displaying it between her fingers.
“Poison?”
“Genya’s own creation. It kills instantly. We all have them.” She handed it to Nina. “Take it. Just in case. I have another.”
“Nina—” Matthias said.
But Nina didn’t hesitate. She slipped the pill into the pocket of her skirt before Matthias could speak another word of protest.
They made their way out of the government sector, steering clear of the market stalls and keeping well away from the tavern, where the stadwatch had gathered.
Matthias told himself to be alert, to focus on getting them back to Black Veil safely, but he could not stop thinking about that pale yellow pill. The sight of it had brought the dream back as vivid as ever, the ice of the north, Nina lost and Matthias powerless to save her. It had burned the unchecked joy of her kiss right out of him.
The dream had started on the ship, when Nina was in the worst throes of her struggle with parem . She’d been in a rage that night, body quaking, clothes soaked through with sweat.
You’re not a good man , she’d shouted. You’re a good soldier, and the sad thing is you don’t even know the difference. She’d been miserable later, weeping, sick with hunger, sick with regret. I’m sorry , she’d said. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it. And a moment later, If you would just help me. Her beautiful eyes were full of tears, and in the faint light from the lanterns, her pale skin had seemed gilded in frost. Please, Matthias, I’m in so much pain. Help me. He would have done anything, traded anything to ease her suffering, but he’d sworn he would not give her more parem . He’d made a vow that he would not let her become a slave to the drug, and he had to honor it, no matter what it cost him.
I can’t, my love , he’d whispered, pressing a cold towel to her brow. I can’t get you more parem. I had them lock the door from the outside.
In a flash her face changed, her eyes slitted. Then break the fucking door down, you useless skiv.
No.
She spat in his face.
Hours later, she’d been quiet, her energy spent, sad but coherent. She’d lain on her side, her eyelids a bruised shade of violet, breath coming in shallow pants, and said, “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About anything. Tell me about the isenulf .”
He shouldn’t have been surprised she knew of the isenulf , the white wolves bred to go into battle with the drüskelle . They were bigger than ordinary wolves, and though they were trained to obey their masters, they never lost the wild, indomitable streak that separated them from their distant domesticated cousins.
It had been hard to think about Fjerda, the life he’d left behind for good, but he made himself speak, eager for any way to distract her. “Sometimes there are more wolves than drüskelle , sometimes more drüskelle than wolves. The wolves decide when to mate, with little influence from the breeder. They’re too stubborn for that.”
Nina had smiled, then winced in pain. “Keep going,” she whispered.