Rohondeish.

She couldn’t believe he’d gone to Rohondeish.

Serene hunkered in a corner near the bar, hood over her face. She could feel the itch of curious eyes crawling over her skin like spider legs. She was known here, in this bar. It was only a matter of time before someone caught enough of a glimpse of her face to recognize her.

The door to Basalt’s audience room opened, and his lieutenant stepped out, leading Kildare and the team back out into the common room. Serene straightened, watching them, like she had for so many nights before. Kildare’s back was straight, his shoulders square. A confident team leader.

He had no idea what he’d gotten them into.

The four quickly drained their drinks and tossed the empty cups back on the bar, then left the tavern. Serene waited for a few beats, then got up, leaving her half-empty mug of beer on the table, and walked over to the bar. The barkeeper turned to her, and Serene tilted her head up so he could see her face under the hood.

The barkeeper’s face grew wary. “Yes, milady thief?”

“I want your best room for the night, Tul.”

Tul’s dark eyes flicked down to the bar. “Sorry, milady, but Basalt just ordered it be given to some special guests he’s keeping for a few days.”

Serene arched her eyebrows. So Basalt had given them the nicest suite. Probably trying to throw off their guard by treating them as well as he could manage.

Tul tapped the bar. “We have the suite across the hall available though, milady.”

“I’ll take it,” Serene said. “But, Tul...would you please keep it quiet that I’ve arrived?”

Tul gave her a strange look.

She shot him a smile, fluttered her lashes just a bit. “I’m just tired,” she said in a soothing tone. “This last job was difficult. One night of rest before Basalt sends me off again, you know?”

Tul smiled and nodded. “He does work you hard, milady, that’s true.” He slid the key across the bar.

Serene picked it up, slipped it into the pouch at her side, then leaned across the bar to give Tul a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you. You’re always so understanding.”

The man grinned as she turned away. Serene’s lips prickled, and as she pushed the door open, she quickly drew her hand across them. The team stood on the street corner, looking for all the world as if they were just discussing what tavern to visit next. Snitch and Fir playfully shoved and punched back and forth, as if in a drunken mock-fight.

Serene pulled her hood over her hair and crouched, slinking through the shadows. As she neared them, she caught Mock’s voice.

“But he wants us to steal a puzzle box. Why?”

Snitch stopped punching at Fir and turned back to his companions, shrugging. “He’s paying us, and really, that’s all I care about.”

Serene frowned.

“Maybe we can figure it out before we hand it over to him,” Kildare said, putting his hand on Mock’s arm.

“I like this idea,” Fir said.

Mock frowned. “Just so long as it isn’t anything dangerous. We wouldn’t give anything dangerous to a crimelord, would we, Kildare?”

“No,” he said. “Don’t you worry about that, Mock. There’s no way we’d do that.”

“Great.” Snitch slapped his hands on their backs. “Now let’s go. I plan to enjoy myself! I’ve never been to a coastal town before!” He slung his arm around Fir. “Now, which way are the docks? Time to find some pretty girls, my friend!”

Mock shot him a glare. “And what am I, dragon meat?” Then she glanced up at Kildare and winced. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” Kildare started to go after Snitch and Fir, but Mock reached out, holding him back.

Serene’s eyes darted over the Alfaren woman’s posture—her hunched shoulders, the worry making lines in her face, the way her eyebrows drew together in a frown. She knows something.

Kil had to tip his head up slightly to look Mock in the eye. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just a bit worried.” Mock reached down and unwound a thin leather band from her wrist, then pressed it into Kil’s hands. She smirked. “Good luck charms never hurt, right?”

Kildare examined the trinket, then smiled and put his arm around Mock’s shoulders. “I appreciate it.”

Serene stayed back about half a block as the group made their way down near the docks. If it hadn’t been for the knot in her stomach, this would be just like the other times she’s secretly spied on them in the last few years. Serene half-smiled, recalling the times she’d clung to the outside of a building, watching through a glowing window as they talked, played games, and planned their jobs. She’d always loved the camaraderie and sibling-like relationship Kildare had held with each of the team. The way he listened to their concerns, took them seriously. His gentle nature had been the deciding factor in contacting him.

Kildare was different. He shouldn’t be a criminal. He didn’t have the heart for it. Serene had seen him handing out goldmarks to street kids at almost every town he visited. Buying medicine for customers in herbalist’s shops when they couldn’t afford it themselves. Treating an orphanage to pastries and cookies at a bakery. Kil was too good for this, and it was the one subject she dared not ask him--why he did what he did.

The crew eventually found themselves in the Dock Square, a huge, rowdy, twenty-four-hour market a mere block from the docks. Even at the late hour, there was a fair-sized crowd in the square. Merchants and shoppers alike chattered in multiple languages, and the air was rich and heavy with spices, sweets, frying food, perfumes. Bright bolts of cloth fluttered and flapped from a few of the stalls, and shelled nuts rattled in baskets. Gas lanterns poked up from the ground at random intervals, creating golden pools of light that lent the place an air of mystery.

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There, they split. Snitch slunk away between tents to a gaudy, silk-draped building at the side of one street. Mock watched him go, fists clenched tight, then stomped off in the opposite direction. Fir stopped at a bookseller’s stall, his long fingers running over the leather spines in gentle approval.

She trailed Kildare through the curved and winding paths in the square. Let him wander a bit, buy a fried pastry. Then she moved forward quickly, staying behind clumps of shoppers until she was close. She slipped between two men and bumped hard into the small of Kildare’s back. At the same time, she turned her head with a slight flick, making it seem as if her hood had slipped off with the impact.

She took a sharp turn between two stalls and ducked into small, dark street between two buildings, pressing herself up against the wall and behind a refuse barrel.

Sure enough, after a moment, Kildare came into the alley. He stood at the entrance for a moment, then stepped past her into the alley.

Serene grabbed his arm.

Kildare spun around, eyes going wide. “Ser—”

Serene clamped her hand over his mouth and pushed him backward into the alley. Kildare staggered a bit, but she didn’t stop until they were about halfway down the street, safely in the shadows.

Kildare wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her lips. Serene leaned against him, gripping his shirt.

“You utter idiot,” she whispered once he came up for air.

Kildare flinched and leaned back from her a moment, hurt and confusion crossing his face. “What?”

“Rodondeish? You know I’m from Rohondeish! And you accepted a job from Basalt?” Serene squirmed free of his arms and whacked him gently on the chest. “What were you thinking?”

“I tried sending you a wind message. And I left a letter.”

“I never got the messages, Kil.” Serene softened her tone a little. “They must have been pushed away by the storm winds.”

He grimaced. “I wondered about that. And the note?”

“It got wet. I was able to recover enough to know that you were coming here. But that still doesn’t explain taking a job for Basalt.”

“I didn’t know it was for Basalt at first. A Do’orite woman, she contacted me first, and—”

Serene’s throat tightened, and she covered her lower face with her hands. “Eras?”

“You know her?”

“When did she contact you?”

Kildare frowned. “Back in Helryen. Serene, what’s wrong? Why—”

“You can’t do this.” Serene dug her hands into her hair, then turned back and forth, looking up and down the dark alley. Her heart hammered. She probably knows we’re here. She probably followed us while I was too busy mooning over how wonderful my husband is. “Kil, they know about us.”

“No—”

“Yes. I’m almost positive. Eras talked to me that same day, Kil. She told me she’d heard us, in my room that night.”

Disgust crossed Kildare’s face. “She was spying on us?”

“I’m valuable to them, Kil. Of course she was! Basalt sent her after me to find out why I didn’t come home after a couple of days.” Serene grabbed his wrist, tugged him back toward the market. “We have to get the crew. We have to tell them now, and get them out of here before—”

Kildare’s arms wrapped around her, and he pressed her tight against his chest. Serene dropped her head back against his shoulder and blew out a deep breath. Even with her racing heart, the firm pressure of Kildare’s arms against her body made her want to sink against him. The thrumming panic faded, and she breathed easier.

“They don’t know,” Kildare said gently. “We’ve been careful. No one has followed us. No one knows about us, Serene. Besides, what does it matter?”

Anger surged through her. She twisted around and glared at him. “What if I’d become pregnant, Kil? I know we were careful. But what if?”

He stared blankly at her.

Serene ground her teeth. “He’s my contract holder. For all rights and purposes, Basalt owns me.” She shuddered. “If I’d become pregnant, Kil, the child would belong to him.”

Kildare’s face paled a little. Then he swallowed and raised his chin. “All the more reason for this job. Then we can pay the bastard back with his own coin. And to be honest, I can’t wait to drop the money right back on his table and tell him I want your contract.”

Serene rubbed her hands over her face. “Kil, you may think you can screw Basalt over like that, but I’m telling you, he’s shrewd. This is too much of a risk. Why is he even hiring you? He has me at his beck and call.”

“The job is too big for one person. It’s at the museum in town—there’s an item he wants.”

Serene frowned. Wanting a specific item didn’t sound like Basalt. He was only interested in money to fund his growing empire of slave traders and smugglers. Or stealing from rivals to warn them off. She’d always been given free rein on what she picked to steal—not once had he ever requested a specific item.

Kildare drew her in close to his chest. Serene curled against him, forcing herself to breathe deeply. As she calmed, she realized that Kildare’s own heart was pounding, and he trembled a little as he held her. She put her hand on his chest, looked up at him.

Kildare’s jaw clenched. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you and I want to see you free from this life.”

“Is it worth risking everything, though?” she whispered.

He eased back a little from her and looked down, confused. “Why do you feel like that?”

Serene hesitated. How could she explain the darkness and acid swirling inside her gut, eating at her every time she thought about Basalt, or Eras, or Taoh? How even now, the back of her neck itched like someone was watching her? How the weight of those three pushed on her shoulders until she felt like she might collapse under the pressure?

Basalt’s thinking about upping the price.

If any of them found out that Kildare was her husband, they would kill him. Or worse, put a slave collar on him.

And she knew that if he thought it would save her, he’d do it. He’d bow his head and submit to a collar, as long as they were together.

She couldn’t let that happen.

But how could she explain any of this to Kil?

“I—I’m just scared,” she choked out. “What if Basalt finds out?”

“He won’t,” Kildare said, his voice quiet and strong and even.

“But you don’t—”

Kildare shook his head. “We’ll get this job done, and we’ll leave as soon as we’re paid. It may take a while to fence some of the other items, but I will see this done, Serene. I swear it, by my heart, by my fire, I will see you free.”

She was going to be his ruin.

Serene slid her hand down to his wrist, rubbed her thumb over the leather looped around it. A feather charm dangled from the simple bracelet, the bronze glimmering with the light of the moon filtering through the curtains.

“Mock said it was a wyvern good luck charm,” Kildare said. He chuckled. “I don’t know if she’s pulling that out of the air or what, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Serene smiled. “I’m glad they’re taking care of you for me.”

He loosened his hug. “I should probably be getting back to the market. Finding everyone. We need to plan the heist.”

She gripped his wrists tight. “Please. Please, can’t you just give it up? Run away with me, now. Forget all of this. We’ll go hide in the shifter colony where you proposed.”

Even as she said it, she knew he wouldn’t. Kildare wouldn’t hide from his problems. Kildare wouldn’t abandon his team.

His dark eyes were soft and tender as he gazed down at her. Kildare pulled her against him and kissed her. Like he always did. Passionate and breathless, like it was his last time to kiss her.

But this time, for the first time, Serene worried it truly might be.

Serene clutched his arms and kissed back. She wished she could tell him to stay. To come to bed with her, back at the tavern. Tonight, she needed to run her fingers through his hair, and snuggle into the crook of his arm, and listen to his voice rumble in his chest as he calmed her and reassured her that everything would be all right.

But that would be a surefire way to get them caught.

So she let him go. Even though it felt like her heart was pulling out of shape, wanting to follow after him.

“See you soon, my fire in the sky.”

“You’d better,” she choked out, hardly daring to speak for the fear and the anger clogging her throat.

Let him be safe. Let him succeed, and oh, gods, let him be safe.