A man like him would never have amounted to anything in Lovero. Someone would’ve paid to have him clipped years ago. Maybe that was why he’d left.
Every time we approached another crowd of people I scanned their faces, looking for ones I recognized. But each face was a stranger to me, every eye soft, not hardened by Safraella’s tenets.
Lefevre marched me to a squat brick building, its window boxes empty of the fragrant flowers that adorned the other buildings in the city. Inside, we paused so he could search me. He found my stiletto and dropped it into a box beside my mask, sword, and cloak. Another lawman carried the box into a small locked room. I marked its location in my memory.
Lefevre pushed me through a gate and around a corner to an empty row of cells with iron bars. He shoved me into the last one on the right, then slammed the door, locking me in. He motioned for me to turn around, so I did, and he released the bindings on my wrists. I rubbed the sore skin.
“I’d get comfortable while you can, Lea,” he said. “You won’t be here for long.” He smirked and tapped the bars with his knuckles before he turned on his heel and walked out of the cell room.
In the evening the guards delivered what they considered “dinner”: a piece of stale bread, cheese that appeared ready to grow mold, and a watered-down cup of wine.
I ate every crumb. Forget crispy duck skin, or flaky fish and cream sauce. Stale bread and moldy cheese were my new favorite foods.
I set down the plate and thought about my situation.
I thought of the way Lefevre had grinned at me, the feel of his hands on me. I couldn’t let him win. But I was getting ahead of myself. First, I needed out of this cell and out of the building.
On the wall, directly to the right of my cell, was a small window about eight feet high. Most people would have a hard time getting through it, if they could at all, but I was a clipper and I wasn’t very big. I just needed to unlock my cell without any weapons or tools.
The window creaked. I stilled.
The window, hinged at the top, pushed in and someone slipped through headfirst. He grabbed the sill and flipped over to land on his feet.
Les.
I scurried to the front of the cell, my hands wrapping around the cold bars. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced around the room, then fired me his crooked smile and approached the bars. “What do you think I’m doing here, Clipper Girl? Can’t have you rotting away in prison.”
He wrapped his fingers around mine, holding me in place as he stepped closer, until only the bars separated us.
My pulse quickened and my skin flushed. I dropped my gaze. It was too easy for him, too easy to make me feel this way. I would always be the better clipper, but he wielded a different power over me.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked.
He tapped my fingers with his own, and then released me and took a step away, examining the cell block.
“I went to find you. Thanks for packing my weapons, by the way.” He patted his hip, where he’d strapped his cutter against his thigh. “But you weren’t there. And then, of course, everyone in the market was talking about the murderer the lawmen had arrested.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You should be resting. I can’t believe Marcello let you leave.”
Les rolled his eyes and rapped his skull with his knuckles. “It takes more than a brick wall to crack my thick head open. What’s one more lump on this head of mine, right? And I snuck out.”
He took everything so lightly. “You could’ve died.”
His smile faded at my tone of voice, and he stepped closer to the bars again. “It’s not your fault, kalla Lea.”
“Don’t call me that.” I shook my head, my hair brushing against my cheeks.
“What? Kalla?”
“Beautiful.”
He exhaled, a smile brushing his lips. “You figured it out?”
“You told me when you were injured. You shouldn’t be so kind to me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Lea . . .” He sighed and pushed the hood off his head. “Since that first moment we met, when you held that dagger to my throat and threatened me and reminded me of how little I actually knew about being a clipper, I’ve been mesmerized by you. Even before I knew your name, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then, when I did get to know you, the feeling just got worse. I cannot get you out of my mind. You fill me up.”
“Les, I can’t love anyone again. The last time I did, I lost everything—”
“No.” He waved a hand at me. “You’re not allowed to lessen what I’ve said by telling me how I’ve made a mistake, by coming up with some ridiculous reason why you don’t deserve it. You don’t get to decide that for me. Gods, Lea!” He threw his hands into the air. “You drive me crazy!”
My blood surged. He had no right to be angry at me. “I drive you crazy? What about me? What about how I feel? I come here with a mission, and then you show up and complicate everything! Look at us, we can’t even go five minutes without fighting! This is really the last thing I need right now.”