“I’m sorry.”
“Life is dark, and then you die, bébé. Just let it be a reminder that you never want to get lost down here. And if you do, go very quiet and follow the sound of water.”
Up ahead, a burble of voices. Vale stilled, and I nearly ran into his back before he relaxed.
“It’s my father. And he’s angry.”
I held my breath but caught no sound of Cherie, no soft rasp of skirts against stone. What little hope I had tumbled away in the darkness. “Bad news, then.”
“Today does not appear to be your lucky day, no.”
I fingered the rabbit’s foot still hidden in my pocket. “And how’s your day?”
He drew a deep breath and gave the call of a hunting owl, which was swiftly answered from the bowels of the tunnel. Leaning his shoulders against the wall, he regarded me, smirk back in place. “Could be worse. No silvers, but I already made my hunting quota for the week, catching you behind that bush. Such a big, tame bludbunny would win prizes at any festival.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He sighed, almost sadly, before turning to greet the group of men materializing from the shadows, lit by the glowing green of their own pendants. Their leader exactly matched my mental image for Vale’s father, leader of the brigands. A pro-wrestler type going to seed, with a paunch that stretched his vest, gray hair marching backward off the top of his head, and a scarred leather eye patch.
“Lose the trail? Lorn’s fault, I’m sure.” Vale’s voice was dry and silky, every word a dare.
The old man shot a disgusted look at his older son. “Your responsible brother is still tracking the bloody bastards. They’re faster than ever. Didn’t see a single one. Found this, though.”
I peeked around Vale and almost oozed into the water when I saw Cherie’s hairbob.
“That’s hers. My friend Cherie’s.”
The old man squinted at me with his one good eye. “Who the hell is that?”
Vale winked at me over his shoulder. “The girl I found behind the bush.”
“I thought you were lying as usual.”
“Then you owe me an apology, old man.”
The head brigand turned red, which was quite an accomplishment in the green light. “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing, son. You want something, you take it. If you can.”
Vale stilled in front of me, going stiff all over like a stalking cat. He snatched the hairbob and handed it to me. As I fingered the ribbons that I had helped tie under Cherie’s hair just that morning, Vale hopped across the water to the ledge on the other side of the tunnel.
“Care to join me, bébé?” He held out his hand.
His father glared at me, his single eye going narrow. “Mademoiselle, we’d be glad to escort you to safety. Despite Vale’s bad manners, the Hildebrand tribe is known for stout hearts and valor.” His eye roved over me, as if calculating the worth of my figure and costume. When he smiled, it was cold, like a shark.
I smiled sweetly, showing fangs. “Stout hearts? But I thought you were thieves.”
Vale swallowed a laugh, and I took his hand and leaped lightly to the other side, where he caught me with a palm splayed across my back.
“Vale, it’s your duty—”
“To escort this mademoiselle to her destination in the city. Don’t worry, Father. I’ll be home eventually.”
“Already told you, don’t come home unless you plan on living up to your birthright.”
Someone snickered behind the old man, and Vale released me and walked stiffly along the ledge, away from his father and deeper down the tunnel toward Paris.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said with a wave as I followed him.
The ledge wasn’t as well kept on this side. It crumbled in places and felt almost spongy in others. Whenever there was a rough spot, Vale slowed and held out a hand to help me across. I could feel conflict and unease roiling in him, and I wasn’t exactly calm myself. I wanted to break free, to run, to howl, to show my fangs to whatever creature had dared to take my friend Cherie. The ghostly plague doctors in the smoke now seemed like nothing more than nightmare visions I’d conjured myself. All we had was the hairbob clutched in my gloves. The anger and helplessness were maddening, but we had no choice but to creep along carefully, feeling our way down the narrow ledge, half-blind in eye and heart.
Which was probably why I decided to badger my savior.
“So . . . your dad.”
“He is a terror, no?”
“Is he trying to start a fight or something?”
Vale chuckled. “Something like that.”
“You want to talk about it?”