Heartless Hunter (Crimson Moth, #1) (19)

Rune turned her face to his, clearly intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

Getting you alone.

Alone, she would be vulnerable.

“Care to give me a private tour of your home?” It would provide him with the opportunity to search not only Rune for evidence of witchcraft, but also her house.

A smile curled her pretty mouth. “Of course. I should have offered.”

Her hand slid into his, surprising him. She was smaller than he’d realized, her palm nearly half the size of his.

“Come with me.”

Gideon let her plunge them through the murmuring guests, scattering their gossip like moths. For such a small thing, her grip was startlingly strong as she led him to the grand staircase on the other side of the room. Letting go of his hand, she started upward, leading them out of the noisy ballroom.

He was halfway up the steps behind her when a familiar voice called from below.

“Gideon?”

With one hand on the railing, Gideon froze, then turned to find his brother standing at the bottom of the stairs. Alex had discarded his suit jacket somewhere in the room, revealing brown suspenders over a crisp white shirt. His eyes flickered to Rune at the top of the steps, and back to Gideon, who stood between them, then lowered to the pale blue ribbon tied around Gideon’s wrist.

“What are you doing here?” Alex demanded. “You hate parties.”

“Not all parties,” said Gideon, thinking again of the ones he and his sister used to attend after midnight in the palace kitchens.

“This kind, you do. Which means you’re here hunting.”

“Rune invited me,” said Gideon, a little defensive.

“No doubt.” Alex’s eyes narrowed on Rune. To her, he said, “I’d like to claim my dance now.”

Gideon glanced back to find Rune’s eyes full of bullets, all directed at Alex.

Sweet Mercy. What had he walked into?

Rune clearly did not want to dance with Alex. And if she truly was the Moth, Gideon didn’t want his brother anywhere near her.

“She’s already promised me a tour of the estate,” he said.

“I’ll give you a tour,” said Alex, moving up the steps. “After I dance with Rune.”

His brother wasn’t even looking at him; his icy glare locked with Rune’s.

This was not a battle he wanted to be in the middle of. But if Gideon hoped to convince Rune he was truly vying for her affection, he needed to stake his claim. Doing so would drive a wedge between him and his brother, and there was already a sizable fissure in their bond, one cracked open years ago that had been growing wider ever since.

He thought of the casting signatures on Rune’s cargo ship.

I couldn’t protect Tessa, he thought, watching Alex. But I can still protect you.

He was about to cut his brother off when Rune herself stepped between them. Alex stood on the stair below hers, peering down at her.

“The song is already over, Alex. You’ll have to wait until next time.”

Before he could argue with her, Rune turned and left both brothers behind, her rust-colored gown shimmering as she went. At the top of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder, eyes glittering in the gaslight. It was darker there, and the shadows sharpened her edges.

“Coming, Gideon?”

He paused, shooting an apologetic glance back at Alex.

I’m doing this for you.

But his brother didn’t look wounded. He looked worried.

Exactly who Alex was worried about, Rune or Gideon, was hard to decipher. And he didn’t have time to figure it out. Fixing his attention on the task at hand—unmasking the Crimson Moth—Gideon quickly caught up to Rune. Together they left the party, and Alex, behind.





TEN

RUNE




RUNE’S FINGERTIPS PRICKLED WITH annoyance.

Yes, Alex had warned her away from his brother. Yes, Rune had flat-out disregarded his warning. But she had expected a scolding from him, not a direct attempt at sabotage.

She would have to nip his meddling right in the bud—as soon as she’d won over Gideon.

How am I going to do that?

She’d been expecting to leave the party with Bart or Noah tonight. Gideon was a very different type of suitor. Not only did he hunt witches for a living, there was also a good chance he suspected Rune of being one. It might even be why he was here tonight.

She wondered about his change of heart—was his irritation in the opera box actually due to fatigue? Or had something come to light about Rune that he needed to investigate himself?

She simply couldn’t trust him.

Rune thought about Verity’s mimic spider, Henry, pretending to be weak in order to catch predators in its web.

Verity’s right. She needed to be like Henry.

Rune had invited her greatest predator into the heart of her home. Now she had to ensnare him here so she could finish him the way she’d finished so many others before: by plying him with wine from the cup she had enchanted. Truth Teller would compel him to tell the truth without realizing he was being compelled.

As Gideon Sharpe’s long-legged stride caught up to Rune, she remembered the scene from the ballroom. It surprised her that he didn’t know how to dance, since Alex was such a proficient dancer.

But that’s because I taught him, thought Rune. Clearly no one had taught Gideon.