Uncrossing his arms, he took the paper, unfolding it to study the sketch. A girl stared back at him. Her dark, shoulder-length curls matched her dark sunken eyes, which were partially hidden behind spectacles.
“Looks remarkably like Rune’s friend, don’t you think?” said Harrow.
Verity de Wilde, she meant.
Sure, there was a slight resemblance. But this sketch could easily be some other nearsighted scholar. He handed it back to Laila. “We’ll need more than a sketch to prove it.”
“You could start by asking your sweetheart where her friend was the night of the attack,” said Harrow, her arms crossed over the back of the chair, her tone sharp.
Gideon ran a hand through his hair, not liking where this was going.
“I disagree,” said Laila, leaning against his worktable. “If the suspect is Verity de Wilde, Rune was likely in on the scheme. Asking her will send her running to warn her friend.”
“Hold on,” said Gideon. “We can’t know this”—he held up the vague sketch—“is Verity de Wilde. Even if it resembles her somewhat, the print shop owner might have given a false description.”
Harrow started to say something, but Gideon held up his hand, locking eyes with her. “More importantly: Rune wasn’t in on the scheme.”
Harrow slit her eyes. “You’re certain of that?”
Gideon remembered Rune sitting outside his front door, weeping. Believing him dead.
He thought of everything they’d done last night.
“She’s not a witch.”
“Do you have proof this time?” Harrow’s voice dripped with suspicion.
Aware of Laila’s gaze, Gideon shifted uncomfortably. But if this was a standoff, he wouldn’t be intimidated. Rune deserved to be exonerated.
“The proof is currently sleeping in my bed.”
“You slept with Rune Winters?” Laila’s eyes widened. “Are you out of your mind?”
Gideon glanced at his hunting partner, wanting to defend Rune. But Harrow already suspected he was bewitched by her. If he proved that suspicion true, she would accuse him of being compromised. If he was compromised, Laila would have to report him.
So he said, “It was the only way to know for sure.”
“He means it was the best way to search her for casting scars,” Harrow clarified, her honeyed eyes still fixed on Gideon. Like a cat waiting for a mouse to show itself. “And? How was it, Comrade? Was she everything you hoped she’d be?”
His whole body prickled, not liking her tone—or the question. But he needed to be careful here, for Rune’s sake as much as his own. He needed to make Harrow and Laila believe he felt nothing for her. That what he’d done with Rune was pure business.
He forced the words out.
“I’ve had better,” he said, staring Harrow down. “You were right; it was no chore. But I’m not about to repeat the endeavor anytime soon.” The lie sank inside him like poison. “She’s a pretty face, nothing more.”
Harrow looked like she was about to respond when a floorboard creaked outside the room. As if someone stood listening on the other side of the door.
All three of them looked to the closed door.
In three strides, Gideon crossed the room and swung it open.
Rune stood in the frame, her face pale, her hair a tangle. The look of shock and hurt in her eyes was like an axe splitting open his chest.
“Rune …”
Visibly trembling, she stammered, “I-I have to go.”
Before he could stop her, she turned on her heel and stumbled out into the street.
FIFTY
RUNE
RUNE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT hurt more: that Gideon would stoop so low in his quest to unmask the Crimson Moth, or that she’d fallen for his ruse.
I’ve had better. The words haunted her as she stepped into the street, lurching toward Lady, who waited dutifully at her hitching post. She’s a pretty face, nothing more.
As if sleeping with her was a task to accomplish. Something to get over with.
If she hadn’t walked in on that conversation, she would still believe it was the real thing. That he truly liked her. Maybe even loved her.
She wanted to cry.
This is over. No more courtship games. No more playing pretend. I am done with Gideon Sharpe.
He’d done her a favor. Cured her of what might have been the start of a pathetic, one-sided, deadly infatuation.
And yet …
Gideon caught up to her.
“Rune, wait.”
As he grabbed her wrist, Rune wrenched herself free and spun to face him.