Page 36 of Scars Beneath a Serpent’s Scales

She scowled, but the fire in Emmeline’s eyes dimmed at the mention of hypothetical plans, as if the work they’d been assigned had been slammed on the stone wall between them. The blood-soaked victim flashed through Roremar’s memory again, his amusement fading to crimson.

“Someone died,” she whispered.

Cold swept through him. “I know.”

“This case has to be solved, but it won’t take much to convince me to go it alone.”

She was already considering ending this partnership again? He’d thought they were making progress.

“And how did that turn out last night?” Roremar shot back.

At the reminder, Emmeline paled, freckles growing even more stark. “At least I was doing something worthwhile rather than seeking distractions in a pleasure hall.”

“Speaking of your worthwhile activities,” Roremar clipped, ignoring that last dig and the incorrect assumption of the Mezzanine. What’s her problem with it anyway? He kicked off the wall, scanning the arena and nearby walkways again to ensure they were alone. “We need to talk about a few things.”

“Such as?”

“What were you doing there?”

Emmeline’s breath hitched, the softest, slightest stutter than tugged at Roremar’s own lungs. “I heard the screams just like everyone else⁠—”

“Not everyone else was dressed to blend into the shadows, though.” He stepped closer, only inches from where she was propped on the wall, her fingers drumming against stone. “What was that about, Huntress?”

Another absent-minded step, his thigh brushing hers.

“You have a problem with my clothing?” Emmeline’s voice was throaty, and the sound rippled over his skin—skin that was suddenly too tight—and he was very aware of how close he’d gotten. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself, wanting to pick her apart ever since she flashed that smile in his uncle’s office.

Wind gusted through the ring, wrapping him in the drowning scent of lavender and something warmly sweet that he couldn’t name.

How did he find himself in this situation again? Heat seeping off her, his pulse jumping. She tilted her chin up defiantly, hair spilling behind her as her shoulder brushed his chest. And why was he now noticing all the places her body pressed against his?

Fucking Desmond and Nico.

They’d messed with his head with all their comments about her sounding pretty. They hadn’t even met her. When they did, they’d understand precisely how infuriating, obstinate, and downright maddening she was.

“A problem?” he forced himself to say. Fuck, why did his voice have to be so rough? He was normally so good at maintaining his front, but his interactions with Emmeline dismantled it. Brick by fucking brick.

She knew it, too. He was almost certain from the way the light returned to her eyes, the multitudes of colors dancing.

He went on, acting unaffected, “No problem with the attire. A warrior should always be dressed for battle.” He paused, steel eyes narrowing on her fiery pair. “But who were you fighting, Huntress?”

“Why would you think I was fighting someone?” Emmeline retorted, just as sharp. “That’s simply what I wore last night.”

He leveled her a skeptical look, refusing to step back. “You were going to a tavern or an incense den like that?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, popping off the wall and landing soundlessly on her feet.

That movement had been much too light for someone not trained in stealth. One corner of his lips hooked up.

“Sure.”

Suspicion wove into his mind. Was whatever she’d been doing connected to this case? He’d been teasing her about the outfit, but was it maybe more nefarious than he thought?

He tucked away that concern for later. “I’d love to see the establishment sometime. I’m sure it’s full of…interesting patrons if those leathers are required.”

“It’s a fascinating exhibit,” she taunted, her voice dropping to a sultry hum. The use of that last word had his mind racing to all sorts of sinful places, and he found himself wondering again what indulgences occurred in the upstairs offices of the Mezz.

“I’m sure there are plenty of things to exhibit there. Tell me, do they include blades like you had last night? Ropes?” Fates, he couldn’t get distracted thinking of that right now. Trying to rattle her, he added, “Perhaps you can show me.”