The Dagger and the Flame (The City of Fantome, #1)

by Catherine Doyle

“Dagger or not, even you are not above reproach from the King of Valterre. A predator is only unassailable when they’re at the top of the food chain. By the sound of it, you and your Daggers are no longer at the top. Which makes you as vulnerable as the rest of this city.” She raised a finger in warning. “You would do well to remember that.” Dufort caught her wrist.

away like a curtain. And there she was. His spitfire. She was peering around a stone pillar in her long black cloak, staring right at him. Ransom gave her a slow, lethal smirk. She hugged the column, the shock on her face quickly blooming into horror. He almost felt sorry for her. But this was war, and she had drawn first blood. He had thirty-six stitches in his side to prove it. So he dragged a finger across his neck, and mouthed, I’m going to fucking kill you.

“Sera, this guy is obsessed,” said Bibi. “He can’t take his eyes off you. I can’t tell if he wants to ravish you or murder you.” The latter, thought Sera grimly. “What did Dufort call him just now? Ransom? More like handsome.” Bibi chuckled to herself. “I’m hilarious.”

What the hell kind of a name was Ransom?

made a blade of her fury and drove it home. “You see, Ransom, you kill for coin. For praise from a rat like Gaspard Dufort. For a cold bed in a stone room far beneath the city. But me? My spirit—my fight—comes from my mother. And so does my magic.” A huff of breath at that word—magic. A dent in his composure. She went on, emboldened. “My strength is your weakness. My secret is your nightmare. And that makes me a lot more dangerous than you.”

Ransom leaped to his feet, rounding on Theo. “Who the fuck are you?” Theo spat out a glob of blood. “Your worst nightmare.” Ransom laughed. “Okay, Drama. The theater is two streets over.” “Keep laughing, tunnel rat.” Theo pulled a switchblade from his pocket just as Ransom brought out a vial of Shade. It was like bringing a toothpick to a swordfight. “Leave him,” she said, pulling Theo away. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Please don’t hurt him.” The Dagger blinked, then frowned. “What would be the point of saving him, only to hurt him?” She swallowed thickly. She didn’t know what kind of trick this was, but she refused to believe it was an act of kindness. Not from the Dagger who had killed her mother, then tried to kill her. She squeezed her necklace, silently begging for its protection, but it only offered a dim pulse of warmth. “Please,” she said again. Her heart was a drum pounding in her chest. She was going to be sick if he didn’t set Pip down. She was going to cry, her knees already threatening to buckle. “Leave him out of this.”

“Consider this a peace offering, spitfire,” he said, casually digging those violent hands into his pockets. “Next time, we’re going to talk about that antidote.” Sera frowned at the word. Not power. Not magic. Antidote. She wanted to call after him, but the Dagger was already gone, melting into the night as though he had never been there at all.

All this danger was beginning to feel like it was part of the same web, only Ransom couldn’t figure out where he sat within it—was he the spider or a fly?

Lark cracked his knuckles. “Who wants to do the honors?” Nadia kicked the door in. “No time like the present,” she said, stalking inside. “That was… incredibly attractive,” said Lark, trailing after her. She tossed her silky black braid. “I know.”