Rebel Witch (The Crimson Moth, #2)

by Kristen Ciccarelli

“He murdered two queens in their beds while his comrades cut the rest of us down in the streets. He would have let them murder me, too, if Cressida hadn’t saved me.” Gideon bristled. You’re leaving out a lot of the story, sweetheart.

Her gaze moved downward. The golden dress Soren had given her was not at all her taste. Gold was for accents only; it drew too much attention otherwise. And the cut was, well … razor-sharp. It put her entire body on display. She hated it. It made her think of another dress. One that suited her like no other ever would. Because the giver knew what her soul required, not just her body.

“You’ve raised your expectations considerably,” he said. “Aiming for a prince.” Her face hardened into a mask, but not one he was used to. All trace of the frivolous socialite she once pretended to be was gone. This mask was blank as a stone. “On the contrary. These days, my only requirement for suitors is that they don’t want me dead. Most people would call those low expectations.”

“Go ahead. Pull the trigger.” “I intend to.” “Yeah? Prove it.” He’d forgotten the way her eyes raged when she was angry. Like a storm he wanted to walk straight into. “We both know what you want to do to me, Gideon. Well, here’s your chance.” His gaze slid to her mouth. “You have no idea, the things I want to do to you.”

Their gazes locked. An invisible charge electrified the air. End this. Put me out of my misery. She knew what Cress had done to him in the past. She knew what Cress would do to him now. “Rune.” He stared her down, pleading. “Shoot.” Her eyes were a raging storm. If she pulled the trigger, it would not be out of pity but something much stronger.

“Your entire family is dead,” Gideon pointed out. “You don’t have any kin.” “Oh, but it turns out I do.” He frowned. What? “A long-lost sibling.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t know who or where they are. All the sibyls in my employ can’t See them. Someone’s concealed them with an ancient spell—for now.” A missing Roseblood heir?

Rune?

Gideon stared her down, trying to conceal his fear. “Do what you like to me. I won’t grovel to you again.” Where had he learned to lie, so boldly, to his enemy’s face? Perhaps he’d learned it from Rune.

Soren’s lip curled, as if he were inspecting a dead rat. “How dare you touch her.” Gideon knew better than to open his mouth. But he couldn’t help himself. “At least she likes it when I touch her.”

She glanced toward Ava’s body across the room. She still needed to draw the spellmarks on herself, but she’d used all of Ava’s blood on Gideon. THUD! THUD! THUD! “Who’s in there?” demanded the guard. Gideon grabbed the closet door and shut it, plunging them into darkness. Slivers of light filtered in from the cracks. “Here.” He thrust out his hand. “Use mine.” Rune glanced down to find blood shining on his palm, seeping from what appeared to be dozens of tiny cuts. When he held his hand up to the light filtering in, Rune saw shards of sparkling glass embedded in the skin. He needed to dig those out before the cuts got infected. “Better hurry,” he whispered, as the door to the powder room burst open and guards flooded in. Out of time, Rune touched the blood on Gideon’s palm and quickly drew the same three symbols on her wrist. Her fingers trembled as she rushed. If she got even one mark wrong, the spell wouldn’t work. But if she didn’t finish in time … The briny taste of magic prickled her tongue. A second later, Rune’s skin tingled as magic flowed out and around her, hiding her the same way it had Gideon.

She glanced up to find two iridescent moths flickering a few feet over their heads. Burning red in the darkness. She’d barely finished the spell when footsteps headed in their direction. As if on instinct, Gideon’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her hips against his, moving her away from the closet door. Heat poured off him. His scent filled the closet—woodsy, with a hint of gunpowder. Fire raced through her as old memories surfaced: reverent glances; whispered promises; the feel of his hands and mouth and body on hers, skin to skin.

Rune’s spell was from Cressida’s and Ava’s. The latter had used powerful binding spells, meant to force and humiliate him. But Rune’s was so subtle, he barely sensed it. It didn’t control him, nor did it control others. It seemed to merely suggest that people turn away from him, look past him, or ignore him altogether. It was almost … gentle.

Gideon blew out a breath. Raked a hand through his hair. Every moment he lingered here increased his chances of being caught again. But Rune had risked herself for him and was about to suffer the consequences. He couldn’t just leave her.

Gideon frowned. Were they swollen when he first cornered her in the powder room? No. He’d been so close to her, it would have been impossible not to notice. Worse than her lips were the bruises on her neck. They weren’t bruises from Gideon’s hands. These were from a mouth. Soren’s mouth. Gideon’s jaw clenched. He glanced from her to the prince’s balcony overhead. “Do you stay in his bedroom often?” Rune studied the same balcony. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” She was right. He couldn’t care less whose bed she kept warm at night. Gideon was here to pay back a debt, nothing more. If he were delivering her straight into another man’s arms, so be it. She meant nothing to him. Just as he meant nothing to her. So why couldn’t he keep his stupid mouth shut?

“You’ve outdone yourself this time. Seducing a prince.” Rune ignored him. “As his wife, you’ll have fancier balls, fancier friends, and fancier wardrobes than you’ve ever dreamed of.” “Jealous?” said Rune, studying the walls. “If you wanted to marry me, Gideon, you should have said so.” Gideon heard the taunt in her voice.

He glanced at the revolver, noticing the hammer wasn’t drawn back. He considered staying silent. Waiting to see how far she’d take this, if she’d really pull the trigger, and then overcome her when she realized her error. But he couldn’t resist. “You need to cock it before you fire.” Her cheeks reddened. “Curse you,” she muttered, then cocked the gun and kept aiming. But her form was still wrong. It was obvious she had little to no experience with firearms. He marveled at Soren’s lack of prudence. If she’d been his fiancée, the first thing Gideon would have done would’ve been to teach her how to properly hold, aim, and shoot a gun. And then she’d kill me with it. But she hadn’t killed him yet.

“I’m not dressed yet, my love. Why don’t you wait outside? I’ll meet you in a minute.” “There’s no need to be shy.” Soren sounded much closer. Less than five paces away. “I’ll see you undressed soon enough…” Gideon didn’t like the way Rune tensed at those words.

Gideon nudged Rune from the fitting room, keeping the revolver pressed to her head. “All of you.” He nodded to Soren, the shop matron, and the gaggle of customers—who now looked like a flock of frightened birds. “Get behind the front counter.” As they obeyed, Gideon backed toward the rear of the shop, taking Rune with him. Under her breath, Rune whispered: “Left. The door is to your left.” She hadn’t struggled when he took her hostage. As if she sensed his plan the moment he put it in motion. As if she were handing him the reins, letting him steer them out of this.

“I have a hotel room,” he said, letting Rune go. Pulling the fedora off his head, he chucked it in the nearby refuse bin. “We can go there until I figure out a plan.” “I already have a plan.” Rune pulled out of his grip and turned toward the bin. Two suitcases were hidden behind it. “Give me my gun back,” she said. “You’ll need both hands to carry these.” Gideon frowned as she dragged them out. Had she packed these and planted them here? But that would mean … “Now, Gideon. They’ll be on us in seconds.” “Is that the prince’s luggage?” “I’ll explain everything on the way.”

“I bought us passage. It departs at one o’clock.” Gideon spluttered. “One o’clock?” That was right now. “Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until it returns next week. The entire Caelisian police force—not to mention Cressida—will be looking for us by nightfall. We can’t afford to wait that long.” Mercy. She was three steps ahead of him. She predicted I would agree to this before I even showed up. Gideon was rusty.

When his bored gaze fell on them, he paused, glancing from Rune’s dress to Gideon’s suit. “Well, isn’t this a sight. It’s so refreshing to see a young couple settling down instead of sowing their wild oats all over the place! Congratulations on your nuptials.” Gideon was about to correct the mistake when Rune slipped her arm through his and stepped in closer. The press of her body surprised him. “It was a lovely ceremony,” she said to the ticket taker, beaming up at him. “We eloped.” Oh. No. No no no. Gideon glanced from Rune’s lace wedding dress to his vintage suit, realizing this was exactly how it looked: like they had just been married. “I’ve dreamed of a wedding in the Umbrian Mountains ever since I was a little girl.” Rune smiled sweetly up at Gideon. So sweet, it was making his stomach ache.

Gideon would just have to gird his loins and continue down the path Rune had forced him onto. You’ve pretended to be in love with her before. You can do it again. But there was that voice inside him again, small and insistent, begging to differ: How much did you really pretend? If Gideon were honest, Rune had always enchanted him. He was fifteen the day he met her and his heart first jumped into his throat. Ever since, he’d spent his time insisting he wasn’t drawn to her, for his brother’s sake, and for the sake of his pride—because someone like him could never deserve someone like Rune.

“Would you like some company to help pass the time?” “She already has company.” The familiar voice was like an earthquake’s tremor, reverberating through Rune. The young man glanced up midpour. Rune reluctantly followed his gaze. Gideon had changed into a dark green suit from Soren’s luggage. The jacket was too tight, the seams stretched to their limit. But the ill fit only made Gideon look more impressive, drawing attention to his well-defined shoulders and the strength in his arms. “You’re the seasick husband, I take it?” Gideon glanced at Rune, who smiled weakly up at him. “The very one.” His attention returned to the young man. “And you were just leaving.”

“You’re naive if you think all he wanted from you was some company.” Rune rolled her eyes. “Not everyone has ulterior motives, Gideon. Some people are just nice. You could try it sometime.” “Trust me.” Gideon watched the would-be suitor search for another table. “I’m a man. I know what he wants.” She scoffed. “You’re ridiculous. All men have built-in radar telling them the thoughts of other men?” “Something like that.”

“Outrank them, perhaps. But I can’t refuse to let them search you.” “No?” She leaned in, holding his gaze, keeping her voice low. “If I were truly your wife, you would let their filthy hands strip me naked while their gazes wolfed me down?” The look that crossed his face was primal. Raw. Like she’d let a prowling animal escape inside him. “Of course not,” he said, wrangling it. “I’d never let them strip a girl I loved and search her body for scars—but we’re not talking about that. We’re talking about you.” His eyes had gone cold as the sea. “You’re not a girl. You’re a witch.”

“We’re newlyweds, right? Let’s make them believe it.” His hand tightened around her thigh. “Is this how you’d behave with a real husband?” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I suppose that would depend on the husband.” The shadows in his eyes darkened. With disgust? No. Not exactly. In fact, Rune thought she saw desire there. An echoing desire howled through her. “Rune…” She liked how he said her name. Half-desperate. A little crazed. “Yes, Gideon?” He leaned in so close, he could kiss her if he wanted to.

When her gaze dropped to the rest of him, she stepped back, cocking her head. “You got fancy.” Gideon glanced down at Soren’s suit. “Trust me, I feel like a peacock.” Abbie laughed. “Yeah. Emerald is not your color.” “I agree. He looks best in red or black.” Gideon froze at Rune’s voice. Abbie turned to face her, then glanced quickly back at him.

“You need to drink some water.” He crouched in front of her and pulled off her shoes. “Food will also help.” Rune lay back on the comforter. “Too bad you whisked us away from the food.” “Yes. Too bad we didn’t stay longer so you could out us to everyone on board.” “Gideon?” She propped herself up onto her elbows and scrunched her eyebrows together. “What are you doing?” Gideon, who’d pushed up her dress and was pulling down her stockings, stopped in his tracks. What was he doing? Helping her undress. Like he would if she were his actual inebriated wife. So he could put her to bed. He shot to his feet and stepped back.

Gideon didn’t hear her. “I doubt I’ll have to try very hard,” he called to Abbie as he tugged off his jacket, dropping it over Rune’s shoulders. The warmth of him settled into her skin, and Rune couldn’t help snuggling into the fabric, thankful. The eyes of Abbie’s friends followed Gideon’s jacket, landing on Rune.

“How did a classy girl like you sully herself with a man like Gideon?” Sully herself. The phrasing brought to mind Rune’s illicit dream from last night. She could almost feel the heat of the boilers and Gideon’s hands on her skin. Gideon lifted the rifle and fired another shot, bringing her back to reality. Five for five. “Love doesn’t sully you,” she said. “Love purifies you.” Real love, anyway. Gideon paused as if to glance her way, but reloaded instead. “That so?” The young man grinned. As if he was very amused. “Singh,” Gideon growled, already aiming again. “Lay off her.”

Rune took a step back. He grabbed the rifle. No longer having the higher ground, she let him take it. “I could kill that prince for giving you a weapon without teaching you how to use it.” What? Instead of storming off and taking the rifle with him, he took Rune’s arm. “Come here,” he said, positioning her in front of him. “Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered as his hand dropped to her waist, pulling her against him. His breath warmed her neck. “Teaching you how to handle a gun.” “You don’t have to do that,” she said, feeling hot despite the cold air. “For the safety of everyone on deck, I do.” He placed her hand on the barrel.

“Keep your elbows down and in.” His lips brushed her ear. “And try to relax.” Relax. Yes, easily done when he was everywhere. Forcing her to remember how big and warm and strong he was. How was she supposed to relax when his arm coiled around her waist and the heat of his chest seeped into her back?

“Don’t close your eyes,” he said. “Pay attention to your breathing instead.” He pressed his free hand high on her torso, just below her breasts. “Breathe from here. You want to inhale, and only when you exhale do you squeeze the trigger.” Her body was on fire in all the places he was touching her. “That’s … a lot of things to remember.” “You don’t have to get it right the first time.”

When she finally relaxed, his rough cheek brushed hers. “What were you dreaming about last night?” His voice was low, near her ear. “When you called out for me.” Rune’s shot went wide. What? She’d called out for him? Humiliation flooded her. She kept her gaze fixed on the girl with the plate, trying to focus. But feverish images from last night kept flashing through her mind. “It was nothing. Just a dream.” His arm tightened around her, anchoring her to him. “It didn’t sound like nothing.” Rune lost control of her breathing. Lowering the rifle a little, she turned her face toward his. Their breath mingled in the space between. “Trust me,” she said, her gaze dropping to his mouth, “you don’t want to know what it was about.” “Oh?” His eyebrows shot upward. “Now you have to tell me.”

The girl across the deck flung the next plate into the air. Rune fired. This time, the china exploded. Rune watched the white shards plunge into the sea like falling stars. “I hit it,” she whispered in disbelief, lowering the gun to her side. “Gideon! Did you see? I hit it!” Pride surged, ballooning her chest. She turned to face him.

“The Gideon I knew liked to be challenged.” Her brown eyes met his, as if daring him to contradict her. “He enjoyed being kept on his toes. The Gideon I knew had stared into the darkness, and carried it with him.” Two crew members rushed by, forcing Abbie out of their way and closer to Gideon. She lowered her voice so only he would hear her. “He would never be happy with someone who couldn’t stare into the darkness, too.” “And Kestrel can’t?” She shot him a look. “She’s sweet. But she’s not your equal. She’s the kind of girl who cares more about a muddy hem than whether she can hit a moving target.” Gideon coughed to disguise a laugh, trying to imagine the Crimson Moth worrying about dirt on her clothes. “I used to think that, too.” He knew better now. There were depths to Rune he might never reach.

Rune looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m sure my husband doesn’t even know I’m gone.” The corner of William’s mouth lifted. “Then let’s—” Behind them, a voice roared like thunder. Louder than the engine’s noise. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with my wife?” William flinched. Rune spun to find Gideon materializing from the steam, storming toward them. His massive frame filled the narrow alley, and his eyes were black with rage.

Gideon lunged for William, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and shoving him up against the bulkhead wall. William winced at the impact. “Stop!” Rune grabbed Gideon’s arm before he did further damage. “He was only—” “And you.” Without letting go of William, Gideon threw her a dark look. “What were you thinking? Coming down here alone? With him?” I warned you about this guy was the furious accusation. But what right did he have to be angry? Rune wasn’t his actual wife. He’d made it clear the very idea of being married to her appalled him.

Rune crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere with a man who behaves as abhorrently as you do.” “As your husband, I insist.” He prowled toward her, reaching for her. “Insist all you like,” said Rune, twirling out of his grip. “I’m refusing.” He was standing over her now. Head bent. Inches away. His gaze bored into hers as they seethed at each other. “Listen, you demon: I will carry you out of here if I have to, and you know it.” “That’s precisely my point!” William cleared his throat. “I really don’t think this is—” Gideon tore his gaze from Rune to glare at the man beside them. “Get the fuck out of here. Before I throw you into something worse than a wall.” Rune rolled her eyes.

“Merciful Ancients. This is part of your plan, isn’t it? You’re going to use the Arcadia to smuggle your witches out of the Republic. That’s why you’re down here.” Rune’s heart fell. Was she so transparent? To him? Apparently yes. “You’re unbelievable.” Gideon stepped back, running a hand roughly through his hair. “Here I was, thinking he was trying to take advantage of you. But it’s the other way around, isn’t it? You lured him here to use for your own purposes.” Okay, that was too far. Rune hugged herself, trying to shield herself from his anger. “Yes, Gideon. That’s me: a grand seductress.”

This time when he reached for her, Rune wasn’t fast enough to evade. He pulled her in close, his grip firm on her wrist. “I was worried about you. Afraid you were falling prey to some cad, when I should have known better.” His gaze flickered over her face. “The Crimson Moth only ever pretends to be prey. In truth, she’s the predator.”

Her lies? What about his lies? “You want the truth?” Her own hurt bubbled up, like steam from a volcano ready to erupt. “This is the truth: I would have married you in a heartbeat, had you asked me. I would have married you knowing you would hand me over to my killers—or kill me yourself—the moment you found out what I was. That’s how pathetic I am, Gideon! That’s how desperately I wanted to be yours!”

“I loved your brother,” she said instead. “But only as a friend. A dear friend. Maybe it could have become more, eventually. And maybe that wasn’t fair to him. But…” She felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes she wondered if Alex had been in love with a version of Rune that didn’t exist.

“I was just a girl to Alex.” She stepped away, pulling her glove back on. “Someone to be loved and cherished and fought for. That’s why I said yes to him.” The nerve in Gideon’s jaw ticked. “I’m not a girl to you, am I? I’m a witch, and always will be. Something to be hated and hunted down. Not cherished or protected. Not loved.”

Anyone in this room could recognize her. Gideon surged toward her, cutting through the dancers, getting jostled and bumped and sworn at. “Excuse me,” he said when he arrived, cutting in. “I need to borrow my girl.”

Rune’s head turned, her gaze flickering between the officers. “Gideon…” Fuck it. Taking Rune’s face in his hands, drawing her gaze to his, Gideon did what he’d wanted to do for days now. Ever since he found her crying in that powder room. He slid his hands into her hair and kissed her. Rune tensed, like a deer in a hunter’s crosshairs. Don’t fight me, baby. He ran his thumb along her jaw to soothe her. He needed her to help him make this look real. At least until the next song started and they could escape to the shadows. Either his stroking worked, or Rune figured it out, because she relaxed. Then kissed back, her lips parting beneath his. It was as if the betrayal of the past few months never happened. Gideon suddenly couldn’t understand why they’d stopped doing this.

He missed her hair in his hands. Missed her warm, sweet mouth. Missed the way she melted like butter beneath his touch. His entire being ached for her. Every touch of her lips, every press of her body, sent him closer to a deadly fire. One that had burned him before, and, he suspected, would burn him again.

If this was weakness, he wanted to be weak. If this was sin, let him be damned to hell. Kissing Rune was like a realignment. There was before, when everything was off its axis. And there was after, when everything was steady and right.

Rune pushed past him, disappearing into the crowd. No. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, coming to his senses. Cressida and Rune were impossible to confuse. They were as different as poison and its antidote. Gideon would know. Of that, he was certain.

“I’ll make you a deal, Rune Winters.” William stepped closer. “If you come back with me to my room, I won’t shoot you.” The insinuation of what he would do to her in that room was unmistakably clear. Rune lifted her chin, staring him down. “I’d rather be shot.” “And if I don’t give you a choice?” The shadows moved again. Only this time, it wasn’t because of flickering lights. A few paces beyond William, someone stepped out from behind a tower of crates, silent as a wolf. Gun drawn. Rune’s pulse hummed as his furious gaze met hers over William’s shoulder. Gideon. The sight of him lit a flame inside her. When had he entered the room? William took another step toward Rune, oblivious to the man behind him. Before he came an inch closer, Gideon said, “She said no, William. Didn’t your parents teach you that when a girl says no, she means it?”

His voice was like a barrel full of gunpowder, ready to be lit. William went still as a statue. “You’re not her type,” Gideon continued. “That’s what she’s been trying to tell you. You should have taken the loss and left her alone.” William licked his lips, staring at the door over Rune’s shoulder. “And what is her type, Captain Sharpe?” Rune studied the witch hunter in the shadows. Stupid brutes, apparently.