Kiss of Steel by Bec McMaster Page B

O’Shay. His gaze met hers, and she felt as though she were falling into a bottomless well, her body straining toward him, her eyes unable to drop from his.
    “All’s well?” he asked softly.
    She nodded, holding Lena’s hand tucked safely in hers. “All’s well.” It was a whisper. Her palms itched as though they hungered for the touch of him.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he told her. “Don’t go out till morn. I’ll make sure Will’s on guard, just in case.”
    He looked away. The spell was broken and Honoria blinked, sucking in a deep breath. She felt as though something important had happened, something that her mind couldn’t yet make heads nor tails of. Then he turned and strode back toward the bodies.
    “Honor,” Lena whispered. “That man just called him Blade. He’s not the Blade, is he? Where did you go?”
    Honoria held her sister’s hand, watching as Blade sauntered down the steps. “He took me for a meal.” It was starting to rain, a light drizzle that did little but dampen the air. In the distance, Blade knelt down over the pair of bodies, examining them with the trio of men at his side. “I don’t know why.”
    “I don’t like him,” Lena said. “You shouldn’t see him again.”
    Honoria turned and shut the door behind them. Her eyes were burning with exhaustion. There’d be little mending finished tonight. She desperately needed sleep.
    “I don’t have much choice. He’s our new protector.”
    ***
     
    Blade examined the blood patterns as he knelt in the street like a statue. O’Shay shifted impatiently, but Tin Man and Will just watched, letting him do what needed to be done.
    He shut his eyes and let the silence of the street filter through him. Small sounds and smells started jumping out at him. Whispers from nearby houses. A dog several streets over, harassed by a pack of street children. A young boy coughing. The stink of fried sole in the nearest house.
    He shut them out, went deeper. Will’s heart was hammering along at a clipping rate. O’Shay had excitement running through his veins, ready to fight or hunt. It lingered on his skin like an acrid scent. Tin Man’s breath whistled through his iron lungs. And underneath it all was the faint, rotten smell of a blue blood gone wrong.
    God ’ave mercy . Blade went cold. He’d never smelled that scent—except for that moment earlier tonight—but he knew what it was. He should have listened to his instincts. The bloody creature had been watching him.
    “Let’s hunt the limey bastard down,” O’Shay muttered. “We wait any longer and the trail’ll go cold.”
    Blade held up a hand. And opened his eyes. “No. No one goes anywhere.”
    His heart was starting to beat faster. One word of this, and the rookery would erupt like a stirred anthill as people killed each other trying to get out in a hurry. Right now a blue blood had murdered two men in Blade’s turf. Right now it was just a game between him and the Echelon. Everyone would be waiting around to see who was left standing at the end. They’d be laying coin down at Whitey’s and debating about what would change if the Echelon slit his throat and took over.
    “We’re workin’ double shifts.” Until the monster was caught. Or if… “Will, you and O’Shay watch the Todd ’ousehold tonight. Watch your backs.”
    “We gettin’ any relief when it starts gettin’ dirty?” O’Shay asked.
    Blade stood and brushed the dust off his pants. “We’re only watchin’ the house at night. When the sun rises, you can seek your beds.”
    Because there was no need to guard the rookery during the day. The creature—the blue blood gone wrong—couldn’t tolerate direct sunlight. It would go to ground, and that was when he would hunt it.
    “Tin Man, you’re with me. Time to rouse the troops, get us ready for a dawn ’unt.”
    “What are we ’untin’, Blade?” Will asked. His nose was wrinkling up in distaste. He could smell it too; he just didn’t