I slapped away a buzzing insect that had landed on my neck. The back of the mansion was much quieter now that the game of soccer had concluded and the servants had disbanded and gone back to their duties. The air chirruped with birds darting between the branches of trees, and a low droning hum came from insects flitting within the gloomy shadows of the lush shrubs and above the pebbled paths.

Thin shafts of pale sunlight poked through holes in the thick foliage and in between the graceful arches of the grand gazebo to slant across the wooden floorboards. Dark green stems clambered up the white posts and were entwined around the trellises and fretwork, serrated leaves and apricot blooms followed the sun's path across the sky. Above the smell of smoke that lingered on my suit, an evocative scent of roses wafted faintly on the crisp breeze and it reminded me of Tabitha: the scent of wild rose seemed distinctly her. The prickly stems and fragile blossoms were much like her tongue. Sweet but thorny.

I suddenly gritted my teeth around my cigar and dragged my whetstone across the adamere blade of my dagger, harder and faster—schlick schlick, schlick...

With force, I stamped down on the memory of Gratian and Irma. I'd caught them in the act of betrayal in another gazebo, one of worn gray stone, mottled and chipped with age.

Fuck Irma Szarvas.

The sole of my shoe anxiously rapped upon the wooden floor of the gazebo as I bided my time by sharpening one of my daggers, which had everyone else on edge too. They were clustered in small groups across from me, and I'd tuned them out while they filled the tedious hours of the day with mundane chatter and the passing of meals. Members of the upper ranks without jobs were so fucking dull. I might not enjoy my job keeping the crime syndicates in line all the time, but at least I had a purpose.

Rosa's puppy suddenly yapped with excitement, drawing my attention to it. The little Lhasa Apso sat obediently on a bench seat while Rosa snipped around his face with much more care than Tabitha had when she'd hacked away at Laurena's hair.

Snip, snip, snip...

Rosa finished clipping the long fur out of Fluffy's eyes. She pushed a wayward curl out of her eyes, leaning her upper body back and weaving from side to side to see Fluffy from all angles.

The Lyon brothers—Forrestor and Harding—yet again were present on the estate. The younger of the two, Harding, assisted Rosa and handed her a grooming comb to catch up any loose tufts that had stuck to Fluffy's long coat of fur. Rosa teased Fluffy's new fringe up and back into a quiff. "I could quite easily have been a hairdresser," she quietly mused.

A dog groomer for fucks's sake, Battagli.

But yes, Rosa did have a flair with her scissors. Fur was scattered on the bench and floorboards and I was sure once we left the gazebo a servant would come and tidy up after her. Perhaps Tabitha. My gaze sliced sideways to check if she was anywhere nearby and was disappointed to find she wasn't.

I'd not long joined the Deniauds in the gazebo after the fight with Tabitha in the drawing room. While Marissa chittered to Forrestor Lyon, her younger brothers were gathered around Rosa, Harding, and Fluffy. Once word reached Romain and Sanela of what I'd done, the pair of them quickly departed, murmuring to their sons to keep out of my way.

But did they do anything or reprimand me?

No.

Because I. Was. A. Crowther.

The shit that happened back there was expected from someone like me.

Romain strode toward the mansion informing Sanela in a clipped tone of his plans for the next few days, while she snipped back at him and shot me dirty looks over her shoulder.

At first, Marissa was determined to include me in her conversation but soon gave up when I grunted one-word answers in return. She went back to bemoaning the fact that the creepy Aldert had left the estate without even a goodbye or a promise to see her again, and droned on and on—darting plaintive glances my way—about how he'd kept asking her about Irma.

Maybe Marissa wanted a reaction from me to allay her own mind that Aldert had no chance with Irma if she and I were still together. Word hadn't got out about the impending engagement so I remained silent.

Irma was welcome to Aldert.

A second later I heaved a sigh. Not that I truly would have wished Irma to be with someone like Aldert. I always had an uncomfortable feeling that there was a perverse and twisted mind beneath that offensive poodle hair.

And Marissa was completely oblivious to Forrestor's irritation as he shoved his hands into his pockets with a dark glare.

Interesting.

I kept my senses sharp and my ears attuned to anything coming out from the mansion. I was slyly keeping an eye out for Tabitha. She wanted me gone from the Deniauds—however, that wasn't going to happen. I had Kinslayer business to attend to for Sirro ...kind of, maybe... And I'd been honest when I'd told Tabitha my business included her too.

Earlier, what I should have done was ask if she was alright after her encounter with Sirro when I first saw her out on the edge of the soccer match. Getting bullheaded and worked up by the fact that Toolface was asking her out on a date wasn't my finest moment.

Tabitha hadn't returned to the winter-adorned drawing room after she'd destroyed all those antiques. She'd taken off after shaking her godsdamned fists right in my face and roaring that Tomas hadn't exactly said no to a date with her.

If Tabitha wanted to go out on a date with a guy, I was all for it, as long as the date was with me.

Guilt slithered around in the pit of my gut and coiled like an asp. I wasn't sure about telling Tabitha about Irma. Part of me figured that the engagement hadn't officially happened yet, so I wouldn't actually be lying if I said I was unattached. The other part of me knew I was in denial. Tabitha was a burst of sunshine on the otherwise bleak moor of what my life was going to become if tied to Irma forever, and I selfishly wanted to bask in it and her as long as I could.

Rosa's voice cut through my wretched thoughts. "What do you think, Varen?"

In confusion at her question, my gaze snapped upward and my hand paused in its stroke along the dark adamere blade. Rosa posed with a hand on her plump hip. Sunlight glanced off the scissor's blades as she jabbed them toward me. "Maybe it's time for a bit of a trim?"

I unconsciously stroked the back of my hand holding the dagger against my shaggy beard. There was no way in Nine Hells I'd ever let Rosa near my face.

Gray smoke wisped in curls as I clenched the cigar between my teeth and growled, "You come near me with those, Battagli, and I'll treat your own hair like a fucking bonsai tree."

She flashed a grin and wiggled her eyebrows. "Sure, Vain Varen."

"What?" I hissed, my eyes narrowing and fingers tightening around the hilt of my dagger.

She swallowed and shook her head, frizzy brown curls shivering with the movement.

"That's what I thought," I softly snarled, snatching the cigar from between my gritted teeth and stabbing it into the ashtray beside me.

I heard footfall coming this way, and my spine went rigid against the wooden post I was leaning against. I twisted around to see who it was and had to tell my ricocheting heart to calm the fuck down when my gaze fell on Tabitha striding toward us, followed by Mei. Both girls were carrying large silver trays with morning tea. A picnic feel to it—was what Marissa had declared earlier.

The two servants quietly climbed the steps and set the trays down on an empty bench seat.

Act cool, act cool...

Tabitha's long glossy hair was tied up in a ponytail and it draped down her back in a cascade of gold. The shafts of pale morning light danced across her freckled cheeks and pouty lips. I swallowed thickly, tearing my gaze away from those pretty lips I wanted to claim.

Tabitha and Mei handed out cups of soup to the Deniauds and their guests. For a moment my appetite distracted me and my stomach grouched when a rich earthy smell of mushrooms rose from the delicate teacups on tendrils of steam.

I was starving.

And it smelled delicious.

My mouth curled downward to see how fucking tiny those teacups were. I'd drain one in three gulps. But then I brightened, my mouth watering when I caught the pungent smell of creamy goat's cheese and mustard coming from the sandwiches with their generous slices of fluffy and buttery-light brioche, ham poking out their sides.

Shoving the dagger and whetstone into the inside pocket of my suit jacket, I leaned down and brushed away the crumbs of dust that clung to my pants. I was eager to quietly whisper to Tabitha that I'd sorted everything out for her with the mess of shattered antiques in the drawing room. She might even smile and thank me and then agree to a date.

I purposely lingered back and apart from everyone else so Tabitha was forced to approach me with silent footsteps. There was nothing on her expression when she offered me the cup of wild mushroom soup—I was no one to her.

As I took the dainty teacup from her, my little finger brushed up against her forefinger. The merest touch had an electrifying zing sparking across my skin.

Hellsgate.

I am done for.

At the contact, Tabitha sharply inhaled and her golden eyelashes fluttered shut. I heard the quickening beat of her pulse before she pulled herself together. When she opened her eyes, her long lashes shadowed a vacant gaze as she stared right through me.

I tucked away the stupid grin threatening to surface.

Too late Miss Cat, I've caught you out.

The wild mushroom soup—piping hot and delicious—was done with after a few sips and the empty teacup returned to Tabitha.

Mei busily handed out plates of sandwiches to the Deniauds and their guests. But it would seem that Tabitha had reserved the last one for me.

I began to approach Tabitha and a flare of fear and a dark warning look of anger rippled across her features as she drew back a hurried step.

Shit, I mean I knew she'd kept telling me to keep away and not to talk to her, especially in company, but surely we could get away with it since she was handing out food. I was hungry and she had the food. One more time, I ran through my carefully composed speech when the words evaporated from my mind the moment I saw her furtively cast quick glances about as if checking everyone's attention was elsewhere.

She covertly prised off the top layer of brioche from my sandwich.

I froze mid-step.

What is she doing?

Tabitha snatched up the silver pepper canister and doused the hells out of it with black grains. My mouth slowly fell open with astonishment and dread. There was so much black pepper coating the ham I could no longer see the layers of meat.

Nausea and horror roiled in my gut.

Hellsgate.

Hells-fucking-gate...

She then glared at me and slammed the flat of her palm on the fluffy brioche to squish the fuck out of it, before swiftly cutting it up into tiny triangles, the same way you'd slice a sandwich for a small child.

She handed the plate to Mei who was too busy grinning at Fluffy's antics as the dog walked back and forth on his hind legs begging for a scrap of ham from Rosa, to notice what was in her hands.

Mei offered me the plate of the jacked-up sandwiches and it sat between us like a bomb.

I couldn't do or say anything. I certainly couldn't call Tabitha out on it.

I gulped and shot Tabitha a pleading look—Do I have to?

For a brief moment, cold fury set her green eyes on fire—Choke on it!

Mei slowly realized I hadn't taken the plate and her black eyebrows drew together in confusion as her narrow face tilted sideways.

I jerked forward and grabbed hold of the plate. Tentatively plucking one of the tiny triangle sandwiches with my enormous fingers, I hesitated a moment before I reluctantly shoved it in my mouth.

The instant my teeth chomped through brioche releasing a canister's worth of pepper, I exploded into a coughing fit—hacking and braying like a fucking donkey.

Spicy hot pepper blasted up my nose and shot down my throat setting everything ablaze in a haze of fiery dust. Tears welled in my eyes and the gazebo was a blur as a river of tears streamed down my face.

Oh my fucking gods!

The plate slipped from my hands as I buckled forward, bracing my hands on my knees.

Mei jumped with a startled shriek. "Mr. Crowther, are you alright?!"

"N-n-n-o-oo-o..." I furiously rubbed my chest until I could suck in a thin breath. "I swallowed,"—cough, cough, hack, hack—"the wrong way."

"Oh my gods, he's choking!"

Mei raised a hand and thumped my back with a pitiful fist.

It was like being hit by a fly. All it did was make me bray harder and louder and Mei manically started pounding at my bent back harder and faster with both fists in response to every gasping cough.

Fuck, fucking hells...

"Don't worry Mr. Crowther I've taken First Aid lessons!" Mei shouted enthusiastically. She left off hitting me, banded her girl arms around my middle, and pressed her locked fists into my abdomen, in and up, in a godsdamned attempt at the Heimlich manoeuver. "I got this! I got this!" She thrust her fists inward once more, trying to dislodge something that wasn't there because I wasn't fucking choking!

"I'm f-f-in-ine..." I barked at Mei, shoving an elbow backward to push her off. "F-fine. Fine!"

Mei stumbled back.

Managing to draw in a breath without breaking into a coughing fit, I gingerly straightened, wiping away the tears from my drenched face with the sleeve of my jacket.

Turning around I inwardly cringed at Mei's crumpled expression. She twined her fingers and darted a nervous glance at the upper ranks, I assumed worried that she was going to get into trouble for beating the shit out of me. But they were all staring slack-jawed and stunned.

Did a single one of them come to my rescue?

Nope.

Because they were all fucking useless.

Granted, I wasn't actually choking to death but it would have been a nice gesture. I did note that Rosa had made it halfway across the gazebo toward me, and my estimation of Baby Battagli went up a notch.

I gave Mei a strained smile and clapped my hand on her shoulder. She flinched. Her thin angular eyes widened in fear.

My chest convulsed with the effort not to cough my fucking lungs out. "I'm f-fine." I gently squeezed her shoulder and said it loud and dramatic enough so everyone could hear. "You d-dislodged the brioche and s-saved my life, thank you, Mei."

Mei sparked to life. She beamed an outrageously wide grin and surreptitiously pumped a fist in victory. I swore I heard her hiss beneath her breath, "Yeeeeeeeeeesss!"

"They were r-really d-delicious," I wheezed like a deflating balloon, gesturing to the sandwiches that were splattered on the gazebo's floor.

"Glad to hear it, Mr. Crowther," Tabitha replied, utterly expressionless as she scooped up the small sandwiches and the plate, placing everything on the silver tray. If I had choked on the mouthful of brioche and collapsed right in front of her, I was pretty sure she'd have stepped over my dead body and headed straight back to the kitchen.

Mei was waved over by Marissa and her brothers, and she glowed in their attention and the compliments they bestowed on saving my life.

I almost startled when Tabitha sidled up and handed me a glass of water. Sucking in a raspy breath, my mouth twitched with a smile. Maybe she did care. Maybe she was worried that I'd almost choked to death.

I was just about to take a sip of water when I stopped. I fixed a suspicious look on her and asked quietly, my throat raw and voice hoarse, "You haven't spiked this with anything have you?"

She rolled her eyes and replied just as quietly so no one could overhear her. "No."

Tipping the glass back, I drank fully, relishing the refreshing and soothing water that eased the ticklish burn in my throat. "Ahhhhh..."

"It was the soup that was spiked," she whispered innocently.

I stilled, my gaze snapping to hers. I cocked my head. "Pardon?"

"The soup. I added something special to it. Just for you."

I was opening my mouth to demand she tell me what she'd laced the soup with when ferocious pain stabbed my gut and my insides knotted violently in a flash of anger. Sickly heat surged through my body and my temples pounded with an oncoming migraine.

"I can't be sure which vial I snagged. Ebola, Marburg, Spanish Influenza...or the Bubonic Plague."

I blinked.

Wait...what?

"The Bubonic Plague?" I brushed a hand across my forehead, my fingers sliding through clammy sweat. I turned my hand this way and that, freaking out I was going to see my fingers turning black.

Tabitha checked her wristwatch, making a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. "It's really fast acting too. I think you've probably got around...hmmmm...thirty seconds to get to the bathroom."

I was shoving the glass of water into her hands when she added, "Enjoy your day."

I was going to kill her.

If she hadn't killed me first.

Before I shoved into motion she smoothly moved in front of me blocking my escape. She tipped her chin up. "If this isn't obvious to you, Mr. Crowther, let me spell it out. I want nothing to do with you. If you see me again, you don't know me, so keep walking onward as if I don't exist—because you certainly don't exist to me."

I briefly squeezed my eyes shut and it slipped from my mouth unheeded, "Don't...please..."

Tabitha's expression was a blank canvas. She stared back at me with nothing in her eyes, nothing at all. I had no idea what she was thinking. The weather perhaps, or what she had to do next—clear the gazebo of dirty dishes—but it certainly appeared she wouldn't give me the time of day.

She said nothing in reply, she simply stepped aside to allow me to pass.

As I surged forward in a blur of speed and darkness, I didn't know which part of me felt worse, my twisting, stabbing insides—or the hollow agony carving a hole inside my chest.